#gotta look at old videos of him now before bed thanks

[httpiastri]

I’m always just hoping for the best and crossing my fingers especially if the boys are in the midfield… lot can happen there.. Indeed, so maybe a little rain just to turn their luck around? 🫣 papaya double podium should be the cure for many illnesses 😌 Singapore could be a great one for them tho.

He looked incredible all weekend, so many gorgeous pics of him 😭😭 definitely true, cuz I’m just eating up all the content I get of him 😌 gimme everything!! Same!!! I’m so delighted so see him again and now vlogs are coming too… we’ll be drowning in content 😮‍💨😮‍💨

I’m so into his long hair thick neck agenda, but his shorter hair, smaller neck was just as sexy! He radiates that confident and dominant energy that turned him even hotter 🫠🫠 like Jeddah was the turning point probably… sweaty messy haired rosy cheeked Oscar on the podium 🫨🫨🫨🫨

Omg, that happened with me too, luckily wasn’t as bad as yours 😅 I simply went for a call not a video call. That’d have ended me lmao no matter what and how afraid of us that some embarrassing things happen while using our phone sleepy, will still do it 😂😂 here I am at 0:20am sleepy as hell but wanted to answer you quickly 🥹

Alex appreciation is always approved 🫶🏼 but Oscar slander? Never!! Okay to not find him attractive and all but ugly?? 😩 grandpa Fernando really attracts people lately 😂😂😂😂

4 years 😩 I mean if we look at Max and Kelly, it’s indeed not that big 😂 tell me about it… I’m somehow always crushing on younger people.. dunno why 😩 omg you’re the same age as Liam? Awww you’re a literally baby too then 🥹 oh to be that young again 🥴

It should mean just like that😌😌 go for it girlie 👀👀👀

yeah def, hoping that the rain can help them fight for the top slots instead of "just" midfield 🥰 they can do well in both monza and singapore, would that be okay with everyone? 😚

truly!!! i'm very happy about drowning in osc content, it's a very good death 🥰 honestly the vlog was one of the best things ive seen in a long time, so many good shots.... such a gorgeous man, and he's a great driver and has a good personality?? wow, save some for the rest of us 😵

same here! jeddah oscar..... there aren't enough words to describe how perfect that was........ all clips from then are just *chefs kiss*, he was so pretty and hot and gorgeous and just everything at the same time 😭 i love him (surprise!)

but a regular call is bad too 😭 yeah def, yesterday i wanted to answer some asks and i dozed off while answering again?? do i never learn 😐 idk why im not tired rn though... 🤨

to have the oscar slander come from my own roots.... my mom agrees that oscar is super cute but even when i show my dad my like all time fave pics and videos and gifs, he doesn't agree 😐 it doesn't make sense? what about fernando is giggle material???

lmaooo not the max & kelly comparison 🙈 pls the only good thing about being born in 02 is being the same age as liam 😭 i feel like i've been crushing on old celebs all my life so im thankful younger ppl are finally getting famous lol

[pure-smut]

helping out a friend.

featuring: Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

contains: childhood friends to lovers, mutual m*sturbation, missionary, softdom!kuroo, watching p*rn

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

You’ve known Tetsuro Kuroo since you were practically babies. You found each other at nursery and you’ve been inseparable ever since. Even though you’re older now and went to different Universities, you video call nearly every day. You’ve managed to break out of your shell a bit and make some new friends at Uni but nothing beats seeing Tetsu’s face pop up on your phone. He just cheers you up.

“Hey, nerd,” Tesu greets you one day. You balance your phone against the stack of books on your desk so you can see each other while you study.

“Hey, loser,” you greet him back. He must be just out of the shower because he’s not wearing a shirt and his chest is slick and shiny. “You couldn’t make yourself decent?”

“What, you don’t like?” he says, grinning. You roll your eyes and ignore him.

If you’re being honest with yourself, there was maybe a time years and years and years ago where you had a bit of a thing for Tetsu. You’re super close, after all, and he’s good-looking so you figured it was normal. After it became apparent that he didn’t view you that way – he flirts with literally everyone – you buried it way down deep until it disappeared. So, yes, at one point a comment like that would have made you blush. Now it doesn’t even phase you.

“You still studying?” Tetsu continues, oblivious.

“Duh. My last exam is tomorrow.”

“And then you’ll be back home, right?”

“Yep! Flights are booked for Friday.” You smile, excited to see him in person again.

“We need to hang out asap. I’ve missed you, dude.”

“I’ve missed you too. But are you not seeing Clarissa on Friday?”

He winces.

“Uhhh… no. That’s… not really a thing anymore.”

“Oh.” You look up from your notebook. “I’m sorry, Tetsu. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, dude, don’t even worry about it. I’ve gotta go but good luck with your exam tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you Friday!”

You hang up and shake your head. For some reason, Tetsu can never stick with a girlfriend. Clarissa had lasted the longest and you had actually really liked her. You start to wonder what went wrong before stopping yourself. No, you need to focus on the exam and then you can catch up with Tetsu this weekend. The corner of your mouth upticks in a smile at seeing him again.

*

The exam goes as well as it could and you have a couple of hours to yourself before you need to catch your flight. You text your FWB but he replies with a busy today, sorry x. You sigh and pick up your laptop.

You have a few bookmarked porn videos and, exhausted from the exam, you decide to click an old, familiar one rather than searching through a bunch of new ones. As it starts up, you lick your finger to get it slick and snake a hand down under your panties. By the time the guy in the video is getting started, you���re softly rubbing your clit, your gaze on the screen intense.

Just as you’re nearing your orgasm, your phone rings. You groan with frustration but, seeing Tetsu’s name, you pick up.

“What?” you snap.

“Whoa, hello to you, too,” Tetsu chuckles.

“I’m a bit busy.”

“Doing what?”

There’s an awkward pause and, to your horror, you realise you haven’t stopped the video. The sound of slapping flesh and moaning fills the air.

“Oh,” Tetsu says.

“I-I’ll call you later,” you stammer out and hang up immediately.

Mortified, all your earlier horniess evaporates and you lay back in your bed, your face in your hands. Your phone buzzes with a message from Tetsu but you can’t even bring yourself to look at it. Instead, you push it down before your humiliation overwhelms you and start getting ready for your flight.

*

You arrive in your hometown that evening, exhausted and irritable.

“Did your exam not go well, sweetie?” Mom asks, frowning and pushing back your hair from your face.

“No, it was okay,” you sigh. “I’ve just had a long day.”

And you’ve embarrassed yourself so much in front of Tetsu that you want the ground to swallow you whole, you think but keep that part to yourself.

“I’ve got some dinner in the fridge for you, d’you want me to warm it up?”

“Thanks, Mom, but it’s alright. I’m just going to hang out in my room tonight. Get an early night.”

She seems displeased but doesn’t argue, letting you wheel your suitcase up the stairs and into your room.

It always feels weird coming home to your old bedroom – most stuff you took with you to the University dorms so all that’s left are your childhood things that you don’t want to part with. Even the walls are bare now. They used to be covered with photos of Tetsu and you but you took those to Uni with you too.

You groan at the thought of him and how awkward he must have felt. He’d sent you a few more messages but you haven’t checked them in case they confirm your worst fears – that you’re gross and he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. The thought makes you well up so you pull out your laptop and put on some low-stakes sitcom and bury yourself under the duvet.

You’re deep into your wallowing when there’s a knock at the door.

“I don’t want dinner, Mom!” you call. “I already said!”

“Unfortunately, I’m not dinner but I am a snack,” Tetsu responds from the other side of the door. You snap up to sitting, nearly launching your laptop off the bed. “Can I come in?”

“Uh…” You desperately look around although you don’t know what you're even looking for. “Um, yes. Yeah, come in.”

Tetsu steps in with his hand covering his eyes and closes the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” You squint at him.

“Oh, just in case I’m interrupting you jerking off again.”

A burst of laughter explodes from your chest, despite your burning cheeks, and you throw your pillow at him.

“You’re a dick!” you say but you’re laughing. He takes his hand away from his eyes and grins.

“Didn’t you get any of my messages?”

You avert your eyes and don’t say anything. Tetsu crosses the space between you and sits down next to you on the bed. You hate how embarrassed you feel – Tetsu always puts you at ease and you automatically want to rest your head on his shoulder but it feels too awkward to do so now.

“Listen, don’t worry about it,” he says. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So you were getting yourself off, so what? Everyone does it.”

“I know but…” You bury your face in your hands. Tetsu reaches across to ease your hands away and looks you in the eye.

“Seriously, don’t be embarrassed. Honestly? It was kind of hot.”

A million butterflies explode in your stomach and your heart sets off at a gallop.

“W-what?”

“Not to be weird or anything,” Tetsu grins and rubs the back of his neck. “And you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. But we talk about everything else, right?”

“Right,” you say, breathless. “What… I mean, what would we even talk about?”

He shrugs.

“I don’t know, like, what kind of stuff were you watching?”

Your face flushes but you fight the urge to dive under the covers.

“I… don’t really know how to describe it.”

Tetsu’s eyes glint.

“Why don’t you show me then?”

You give a nervous bout of laughter, your heart still thunderous in your ears.

“Only if you want to,” he adds and you nod your head.

“I do, I just… won’t you find it weird?”

“Why would I? You’re my best friend.”

Tetsu smiles at you and it’s so familiar and reassuring that you smile back. You know that as soon as you reach for the laptop, your friendship will shift and you won’t be able to move it back. But it feels okay. Natural.

You pick up the laptop as Tetsu moves up the bed to sit next to you, his back against the headboard.

Your finger hovers over the link in the bookmark bar, hesitating before you take the plunge and click it. The familiar video starts playing as a man in a suit makes out with a woman in a secretary outfit. Tetsu gives a low chuckle.

“Nice,” he says and you get a weird thrill at his approval. “D’you watch this a lot?”

“Um, I guess. Every couple of days.”

His breathing hitches and he gives you a sidelong look.

“What?” you ask, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

“Nothing. I just like the idea of you touching yourself.”

“Shut up,” you say, your face warm and he gives a wide grin.

You keep watching for a few minutes as the man in the video starts fingering his secretary. His fingers plunge deep inside her and she throws her head back in pleasure. You feel yourself getting wetter and squirm uncomfortably. Tetsu must notice because he gives you another look.

“Touch yourself if you want,” he says. “I don’t mind.”

“I… no. It’s too awkward,” you reply, keeping your eyes forward on the screen.

“I could do it for you.”

You chance a glance at him and his eyes are on you. He’s looking at you in a way he never had before, like he’s hungry.

“Do you… would you want me to do it for you, too?” you say clumsily. You both look down to see the bulge in his jeans.

“Yeah,” he says, his playful smile gone. “If you want to.”

Your eyes are glued to his bulge. Your entire crush, which you thought you’d long buried, suddenly resurrects itself and you find yourself desperate to touch him.

“I do. Want to, I mean.” You lick your lips and he glances down to look at your mouth.

Unsure who should go first, you hesitate. Luckily, Tetsu doesn’t, and you watch him lick two of his long fingers.

“Spread your legs for me,” he instructs and you do so immediately. He pushes his hand down under the band of your pyjama shorts and panties. He doesn’t break eye contact the entire time. When his fingers reach your pussy lips, he finds them already slick with your arousal.

“The video do this to you?” he asks.

“The video,” you say. “And you.”

Emboldened, you reach across and undo his jeans. You slip your hand in and close it around his cock, gently pulling it free. As soon as you touch him, he inhales sharply.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

His cock is velvety soft despite being rock solid and it feels hot against your fingers. You begin to stroke him slowly.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his hand still down your shorts. “I want to make you cum but I can’t fucking think straight with your hand around my cock.”

You keep stroking him regardless, enjoying him melt beneath your fingertips. He repositions himself so he’s closer to you and his fingers begin circling your clit. You give a small gasp at the jolt it sends through your body and Tetsu groans, his eyes glazed over.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmurs so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

“Do what?” you whisper as his finger continues playing with your swollen clit.

“Touch you,” he breathes. “Fuck you.”

The muscles in his arm are taut and hard, his stomach solid as you start jerking him faster.

“I want you, too,” you tell him, your voice laden with need.

“Really?”

“Yes, Tetsu. Fuck me, now, please.”

“Oh, fuck,” he groans and, with effort, pulls himself free of your grasp.

Your pussy feels bare without his hand but it doesn’t last long as Tetsu positions himself over you. There’s something unspoken between you – that you can take this slow another time, that you can explore each other’s bodies afterwards. Right now, you need each other too much to wait.

Tetsu quickly strips you of your pyjama shorts and panties, the only thing in between his cock and your pussy. You wrap your legs around him, using your feet to push down his jeans just enough so that his cock is free. He lines up the head with your entrance before looking up at you, a question in his eyes. You nod without hesitation.

Tetsu pushes his hips forward. He starts slow, only sinking in a few inches but he’s hard and thick and it’s enough for your eyes to roll back in your head. You can feel him stretching you, rubbing against all your nerves.

“Fuck,” you gasp. When you open your eyes, his are watching you.

He draws back ever so slightly before pushing in even deeper, waiting for you to adjust to the size of him before going any further. Every stroke sends your nerves alight. He continues until he’s buried completely inside you, filling you.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans.

The walls of your pussy clamp down on him and you can see the muscles in his arms bulging as he holds up his weight over you. He pulls back until he’s nearly fully out. In the light of the laptop, you can see his cock glistening with your juices before he slams back inside you. He picks up speed, finding a rhythm, and each time he pounds you, you hurtle closer to an orgasm. Your pussy starts to contract around his cock.

“T-Tetsu, I… I’m going to…” you gasp but you can’t finish the sentence.

Your orgasm rocks through your body, your pussy squeezing Tetsu’s cock. Your legs wrap tightly around him, encouraging him to go harder, deeper. Tetsu gives a long, low moan and you feel his cock throb. His hand grips your hip, pinning you beneath him as he unleashes thick ropes of his cum inside you. You both collapse onto the bed.

After a few moments, while you both catch your breath, he pushes himself up on one arm. While still inside you, he presses a gentle kiss on your lips – your first kiss. When he pulls back, there’s a grin on his face.

“That was way better than jerking off.”

masterlist

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[btsgotjams27]

the back-up plan | jjk

summary: one drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.

💖 title: the back-up plan | one-shot 💖 pairing: jungkook x f!reader | 💖 genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?) 💖 rating: SFW | 18+ | 💖 word count: 18.1k | 💖 playlist 💖 warnings: jungkook & reader are both 29, reader is a hopeless romantic (what else is new with my characters?), jungkook is always pining and head over heels in love, jungkook is sweet and in luvrrr but he’s bad at feelings and tells some terrible lies (don’t hate him—ok!!), reader has a skewed view of relationships and what's expected of her, jungkook calls her wifey, hot and seggsy neighbor!namjoon (yes, pls), shirtless namjoon (2x), kissing, hand-holding, some suggestive language, mentions of erotic art and positions, first dates, alcohol consumption, reader has her belly button pierced, talks of tattoos & getting them, mentions of needles, and idk some things may come off as cheesy??? but it's a romance story so idk take what you will, light angst (you should know me by now!!), jungkook gets a lil drunk (pls drink responsibly), jealous jk comes out, love confessions 💖 a/n: the plot is a bit ridiculous, but that's the point! it's fiction (lol), i hope y'all enjoy it for what it is. the idea came from a tweet I saw, but ofc, I can't find it! so thank you to whoever tweeted it! and, happy birthday to the loml, jeon jungkook (this was supposed to be out for his birthday, but my brain said no). i also have to thank holly (@alphabetboyluvr). i respect her so much as a writer and friend, and I was super scared to ask her to even look at my outline, but she's always so sweet and willing. i couldn't have done this without her help, her comments, and suggestions <3 (i'd also recommend listening to the playlist while reading :)) and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts 💖

sunday.

Another day has passed, and it’s creeping closer to your birthday. They’re supposed to be joyous, celebratory occasions–and you love feeling special, showered with love and gifts. What more could a person want?

But you had a clear goal before hitting the big 3-0: get married–or at least be engaged to be married.

Most girlfriends your age were still having fun, enjoying life, and not ready to settle down. You’re unsure if your upbringing or society’s expectations distorted you, but you were fond of marriage and finding the one to spend your life with.

You also blamed the hopeless romantic in you when you dragged every one of your girlfriends with you to see the new romantic comedy, giggled, and kicked your feet when reading the latest best-selling romance novel.

The thing was, you were so close to getting engaged. You and your boyfriend, Theo, of eight months–well, ex-boyfriend–discussed it openly from the beginning of your relationship. And not even two weeks ago, he broke up with you out of the blue and gave no clear explanation.

You sat in bed debating whether to download your old dating apps again. Your birthday was in six days, and you knew you wouldn’t find a suitable mate before your birthday, but at least you could try, right?

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 PM Happy ‘almost 30th’ birthday.

You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:28 PM Are you still crying over Theodore Boner?

You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:29 PM 🤣🤣🤣 You were saved from that one. Imagine having the last name Boner.

You rolled your eyes at the text from Jungkook, throwing your phone beside you as you curled under your duvet.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

“What do you want, Kook?”

“You gotta admit, ____ Boner sounds awful,” Jungkook laughed as he pushed back in his recliner.

“I’m hanging up!” you threatened, getting ready to push the end button.

"No, no! I'm kidding. You would've made a great Mrs. Boner."

"Bye–Kook."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm done, I promise."

"I had a whole plan. What am I supposed to do now? My birthday is in six days," you groaned, covering your face with the duvet.

"You don't remember our agreement, do you?"

You brought the cover down. Curious about his comment. "What agreement?"

💖💖💖

Before this most recent one, your ex, Jimin, had broken up with you, and you were on the rebound, looking for a good time. Jungkook came to the rescue, saving you from your next mistake. He took you out for drinks, let you drown in your sorrows, and the two of you got pretty drunk. You could only remember bits and pieces of your conversation.

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by 30,” Jungkook suggests.

“You wanna marry me? But I’m such a mess.”

Your dating life, career, friends, and family were fine.

“Yeah, why not. We get along. You seem a little kinky in bed and make a mean spaghetti dish.”

“Is that all I’m good for? Sex and spaghetti?”

“That sounds like a bad porn film waiting to happen. No, but I'm serious. If we're still single, let’s get married.”

You wave him off. “Kook, you’re drunk. You’re just saying whatever.”

“Yeah, I'm drunk, but I'm serious about this.” 

He gets up, looks around, sees a straw wrapper, and ties it around your finger. He's on one knee before you.

“____, will you marry me? Hypothetically, of course, if we’re both still single by 30.”

You shake your head at your loveable friend. It was hard to say no. How could you?

“You’re so dumb.”

“See. You can write that in your vows,” Jungkook jokes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, you are pretty cute, and I can stand being around you,” you tease.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

You smack his arm. “Is this how you’re wooing your future wife?”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can’t believe how beautiful my future wife is.”

You’re unsure if it’s the alcohol making you susceptible and vulnerable to your good friend asking you to marry him or if it was because you were on the rebound. But what’s the harm? If you couldn’t find someone by 30, then you’d get to marry a good friend.

“That's more like it. Why yes, Jeon Jungkook. I will marry you if I'm still single by 30.”

💖💖💖

You let out a cackle. “Oh shit–I agreed to that?”

Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”

But Jungkook’s messing around, right? He was a good friend and comforted you in your time of need. There’s no way he’d want to spend the rest of his life with you. Plenty of suitable women were fawning over him, and now you’ve noticed you've never seen him with a girlfriend.

“You’re–you’re not serious, are you?” You stumble over your words, going into panic mode.

Why would Jeon Jungkook choose you, of all people, to want to marry? He could have anyone at any time.

No, you shook off the thought. You couldn’t lock him into a loveless marriage.

Jungkook licks his lips, tongue flicking his lip ring back and forth.

You shifted in bed and cleared your throat. “Aren’t you seeing that one girl?”

It wasn’t hard to notice when she practically hung onto him like a lovesick puppy.

Jungkook makes a face, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s nothing serious.”

You give him a blank expression. “Nothing serious? Kook, she’s practically foaming at the mouth and shooting heart eyes when you’re around.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That could be you, too.”

You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.

“Just saying,” he adds.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way if it is serious.” You surely didn’t want to become a homewrecker.

He waves his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t back down from promises I make.”

Your lips turn into a pout, and you tilt your head, wondering why he’d ditch Clingy Chloe and commit to a drunken promise. “What’s in it for you?”

He seems offended by your question, so he scoffs. “I mean, I’m just trying to save you from a future where you’re an old lady with 50 cats, collecting newspapers that pile up from the floor to the ceiling, and then you show up on an episode of Hoarders.”

You chuckle. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.

“I mean, marriage is a pretty serious thing, and we’re friends getting married because we have no one else?” The sentiment seems ridiculous once you say it aloud.

“What? You don’t think I'll be a good husband?” 

“No, I didn't say that. I think you’d be a great one, actually.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Don’t think you can handle me?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes at your cocky friend. “I don’t know, Kook. What if I meet someone, or what if you meet someone?”

“You don’t think I can make you fall in love with me?” he asks, ignoring your question.

Your nose scrunches, and you laugh. “No.”

“Oh, well, that sounds like a challenge, and you’re lucky I love a little competition.”

He’s not going to let this go, is he?

You settle into the plush of your pillows. “Okay–tell you what, if you can make me fall in love with you within the week, I’ll consider marrying you.”

What would you have to lose? Being wined and dined by a cute guy? What girl would pass up this opportunity?

“Deal.”

💖💖💖

monday.

Your everyday routine consists of rolling out of bed, logging into work, checking your emails, and then sitting on the couch until you get a support ticket from someone who forgot their password for the umpteenth time.

It’s a great gig, and now you’re glad you went into the right field of work.

You’re on your random binge of rewatching The Fast and the Furious saga. Your friends always make fun of you, but you can’t help it. It’s a guilty pleasure of yours.

“You got some sexy legs. When do they open?” Roman says with a grin.

You burst out laughing. The dialogue is so bad, yet somehow, these movies keep getting made. You must be the target audience.

The doorbell rings and it’s 8:30 AM. Who is here this early? You didn’t buy anything online while you were drunk, did you?

You peek through the viewfinder, and it’s blocked by something yellow. You can’t see the delivery person’s face when you open the door.

“Special delivery for ___,” the person says in a deep voice.

“That’s me.”

And out from behind the flowers, Jeon Jungkook pops out. “Happy birthday week,” he says in a sing-song voice.

Your heart settles when you realize it's your friend or future husband. “What are you doing here?”

You notice two grocery bags on the ground next to him. He hands you the flowers and picks them up.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” He raises his eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe.

Real clothes and makeup don’t exist when you're working from home.

“Cute slippers,” he points out as you stare at your fluffy white bunny slippers.

You sigh, grabbing his arm to drag him into your apartment. As you’re about to close the door, you notice moving boxes outside the apartment next to yours. Hmm, someone new must be moving in.

“Is this what you look like underneath all that makeup?” he asks, making himself comfortable in your kitchen. The two bags are on the counter, and he’s going through the cupboards to find a vase.

“Top left above the sink,” you say.

He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting company. Otherwise, I would’ve put on some decent clothing.”

And a bra, you think as you cross your arms, covering your chest.

Jungkook shakes his head. “You look good in anything, and with or without makeup. You’ll be my future wifey, so there’s no need to look for good me. We can just be comfortable with each other, right?”

You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow. He’s serious about this, isn’t he? You suppose you wouldn’t mind playing along to see how far he would go.

A man ready and willing to commit to marriage? You must be living in your romantic film.

You nod. “Right, we’re friends, possibly moving onto more than friends–well, actually, straight to marriage,” you chuckle, "but I’ve always felt comfortable around you, Kook.”

He flashes a warm smile. “Good, then everything will be easy, peasy lemon squeezy.”

He’s cute, you think.

“I hope you like mimosas,” he says as he unloads the groceries from the bags.

Bread, eggs, bacon, strawberries, orange juice, and champagne.

“Are you making me breakfast?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the man in the yellow beanie and white Nike shirt.

“Consider it your birthday breakfast, wifey,” he jokes, peering in your cupboards for a pan.

“Right side next to the oven.”

“Ah, I gotta remember this if I’m gonna be cooking here more often.” He whistles, setting the pan on the stove.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t you have to work today?”

“Nah–called in sick. It’s my wife’s birthday week. I have to shower her with all the love.” He wiggles his eyebrows and puckers his lips.

It’s funny to see Jeon Jungkook act this way. He’s always been playful and flirty the two years you’ve known him, but this must’ve been his way of pulling out all his cards of wooing a woman.

💖💖💖

“Breakfast is ready,” Jungkook yells from the kitchen.

A support ticket from work came through, distracting you from your movie and Jungkook.

“‘Kay! Almost done.” You recheck your work emails, ensuring everything is complete.

This time, you put on a bra, change into a decent shirt, and put on a skin tint and blush to make yourself look alive.

You stroll into the kitchen, and Jungkook perfectly displays the sunflowers on the counter and two delicious breakfast plates. The champagne flutes are filled to the brim and topped off with a beautifully sliced strawberry.

“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”

He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”

The two of you sit beside each other, digging into the breakfast spread.

“What’s that one movie you wanted to watch again?” Jungkook asks before he sips his mimosa.

Your mouth is full, and you chew quickly to answer him. “The one on Netflix?” He hums. “Wedding Season.”

“Sounds like the perfect movie for us to watch this week.”

“You’re into rom-coms?”

“I love ‘em.”

“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”

“I don’t know why you never ask me to watch them, but you’ll ask the girls.”

You look down at your food before catching his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d be into them, so I never asked. And you don’t seem like the hopeless romantic type.”

“I mean, growing up, I wasn’t. My parents didn’t have a fairytale romance, so I didn’t believe in love for a long time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So, someone must’ve changed your mind then?”

He hums, not wanting to admit who made it an exception.

You nudge his arm. “Are you gonna tell me, or will I have to pry it out of you?”

He chuckles, not saying a word.

You scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me? Keeping secrets from your wife already? Rude,” you tut.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.

The two of you finish breakfast, and Jungkook insists on doing the dishes. You set your plate in the sink and clutch onto his arm, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

💖💖💖

tuesday.

You take the morning off to run errands for your upcoming birthday extravaganza. And you’re struggling to hit the lock button on your keypad while holding a heavy box of birthday decor.

When you finally hear the whirring of the lock and chime, you turn around, bumping into someone, dropping your box, and knocking over a handful of books.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, quickly picking up as many books as possible, and he picks up your birthday decor.

The man reaches for the pink heart-shaped sunglasses and other pink-colored decor. “Someone must be celebrating big,” the man’s dimpled smile displayed.

Your fingers accidentally touch his when you switch his books for your decor. You clear your throat, trying not to ogle the man. “Um, yeah, it’s for my birthday.”

He perks up. “Oh?” He flashes a thin smile. “Happy birthday.”

A breath gets caught in your throat, and you struggle to get any words out. “Uh, my birthday is actually on Saturday,” you finally croak out. “But, you must be my new neighbor.”

“Yeah, I’m Namjoon. I just moved in this past weekend.”

Oh, this is bad. Really bad.

He’s tall, has beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair, and you could live in his dimples.

“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”

“Sorry about bumping into you, and it’s nice to meet you too. I hope you have a good birthday,” he says before picking up one last book on the ground.

“Are you doing anything this weekend? You can come if you want.”

After you ask, you want to kick yourself in the bum. Inviting a man you just met. What if he’s a weirdo? But how can he be if he’s reading ‘A Bigger Message Conversations with David Hockney.’ You may have managed to peek at one of his books.

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding! I’m inviting you, and you can’t say no to the birthday girl,” you tease, adjusting the box in your arms.

A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re right. It’d be messed up to say no to the birthday girl.”

“So, you’ll come?” you ask, and a smile grows from ear to ear.

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

The two of you exchange information before you leave to finish your errands. You’re beaming down the street while carrying your box of decor.

You didn’t expect to find someone cute and endearing so quickly. And you’re surprised he said yes to your party. Maybe he’s new in town and wants to make friends. It would be a good way for him to get acquainted, and a part of you hoped you’d keep bumping into him in the halls.

💖💖💖

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 AM Wanna do a movie night today? We could watch Wedding Season.

You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:35 AM Is 6 okay? I can bring dinner too.

You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.

It's six on the dot, and you hear a knock on your door. You suppose Jungkook is the type to show up right on time, which you greatly appreciate.

He holds a six-pack of beer and a pizza box when you open the door.

"Ready for movie night?"

It’s halfway through the film, and you’re enjoying it. You love the fake dating trope because you could always count on the two mains to fall for each other.

"Are you cold?" Jungkook asks when he sees you tuck your hands in between your thighs.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Come here."

He opens his arm to cuddle, and you blink expressionless at him. The most intimate thing you’ve done with him is hug him–a side hug.

He laughs when you don’t move. “What? Scared I’ll bite?”

“No—it’s just that cuddling is an intimate thing to do,” you admit.

Arms and legs become entangled. Bodies are warming up against each other. Possibilities of things progressing.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you have a throw blanket somewhere?” He looks around and sees a woven basket next to the couch. He grabs a white fluffy throw for you.

Jungkook gives you an out, and for that, you’re grateful.

“Thanks,” you say as you snuggle in the blanket.

He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”

Even though you rejected Jungkook’s invitation to cuddle, somehow, by the end of the movie, the two of you had fallen asleep—cuddling.

You didn’t pull away from him yet. You peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall. Light snores escape his lips, and now and again, he puffs out a breath like a whale coming up for air, making you chuckle.

You rest your chin on his chest, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this before waking him up.

“Kook,” you whisper, gently shaking him. “Kook,” you repeat.

He hums, popping his head up while his eyes are still closed. He flutters them open and immediately sits up, wiping the drool that’s dried on his chin. He clears his throat. “Um—how long was I asleep for?”

You giggle. “We both fell asleep. I blame the beer,” you say, stretching your arms.

Jungkook can’t help but notice the shiny piece of jewelry hanging from your navel. “You have your belly button pierced?” he asks with a raised brow.

You quickly pull down your shirt. “It was a dumb thing I did when I turned 21.”

“It’s cute.”

You shy away from his comment. At times, you forget you have it.

“What else are you hiding, hm?” Jungkook asks.

You scoff. “Nothing. I only have my ears and my belly button pierced.”

“No tattoos?”

Tattoos are cool on other people, and you toyed with the idea of getting one. You were indecisive about what to get.

You shook your head no. “Maybe one day.”

“Get one for your 30th. I’ll go with you. I know a guy,” he teases, pointing out the ink on his skin.

“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”

He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”

A tattoo, huh? You’ve always wanted to see how high your pain threshold was. “I’ll think about it.”

“Just let me know, and I’ll get an appointment with the guy I always go to. I only trust him.”

Jungkook stands, proceeding to clean up the mess you two made.

“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”

He looks at the clock. It’s nearly midnight, and he still needs to wash up.

You walk him to the door, holding it open for him to leave. “Kook?”

Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”

You’re unsure what comes over you, but you pull him in for a hug. Only this time, it doesn’t feel like a friendly hug. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, then he wraps his arms around you. Every ounce of his body presses against yours, and you fit perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. His fresh, clean scent invades your nose, and you wish it could linger for a bit longer while his hand snakes to the nape of your neck, fingers curling in your hair.

Why do you feel more vulnerable when sleeping next to him now than earlier? Is it because you’re awake and aware of your intentions? The question was, what were your intentions? Did you want this? Did you really want him?

You withdrew from the embrace, bidding him farewell. He gives a small wave before disappearing into the elevator.

As you enter your apartment and shut the door, you repeatedly knocked the back of your head against it, muttering, ‘fuck.’ You were playing along to see how far Jungkook would go before calling it quits, but you failed to see that maybe—just maybe you could be falling too.

Hoseok’s minding his business, eating his ramen when he sees his roommate walk in. Jungkook looks like he’s floating on cloud nine, beaming from ear to ear. There’s even a hop in his step. He twirls around, daintily sitting beside Hoseok.

Hoseok scans his friend, watching him as he breathes a happy sigh and stares into the distance.

“What’s going on with you?” He raises a brow and narrows his eyes.

Jungkook giggles and scrunches his shoulders. “I just came back from cuddling with ___,” he says as he continues in his reveries.

“Oh, boy. Everyone, can I please have your attention,” Hoseok cups his mouth into a megaphone, “Jeon Jungkook has officially gone off the deep end. He thinks being delulu is the solulu.”

Jungkook glares at his friend and kicks him under the table. “Yah–aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”

Hoseok slurps his noodles. “Of course, I’m rooting for you. You’re my best bud,” he says as he places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he pats Hoseok’s hand. “Now–be an even better friend, and let me raid your closet for ___’s party.”

Jungkook lies in bed; his bicep flexes when he moves his hand behind his head. He’s watching an array of colors flash across the vastness of his room. The northern lights and stars twirl and sparkle like the movements of butterflies and the ones milling around his stomach for days.

Is this what being in love feels like, he thinks. It’s like he’s living in the romance movies he’s watched. Boy meets girl, boy, and girl fall in love, and they live happily ever after.

This is it. This must be it. His chance to be with you–the one he’s fallen completely head over heels for.

If the Jungkook from four years ago were to see him today, he’d laugh and call him a simp, especially with how he’s at your beck and call.

But the Jungkook, from four years ago, was a cynic. He had no healthy or loving relationships around him until he met you through Hoseok. And, even though you were with someone at the time, he saw how kind and wonderful you were to your friends and could only imagine the kind of love you’d show toward someone special.

There were only a few more days until your party, and he was determined to make each day count.

wednesday.

Since Monday, Jungkook has surprised you every day with a gift. They were his attempts to make you fall in love with you, along with his random trips to your place. 

Today’s gift was a pair of pink seashell earrings. Jungkook tells you he spent hours making it from clay, then baked them in the oven. You shook your head, wondering how he got an idea like this. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gift.

He texted throughout the day, leaving cute words of encouragement or sending TikToks of funny videos he’d find. Maybe this was his love language, taking the time out of his day to let you know he’s thinking about you.

As your day winds down, you’re scrolling through YouTube, and what catches your eye at 7 p.m.? Dessert videos.

And that’s your worst toxic trait—thinking you can bake. It always looks easy enough. If they can do it, so can you.

That is, until you’re in the kitchen, halfway through a recipe, and notice you’re out of sugar. The grocery store is too far and will close when you get there.

See what happens when you decide to bake? It always goes differently than you want.

You could call Jungkook to see if he has any or walk over to your new neighbor’s place. The latter was plausible since Namjoon was only a few feet away.

You shook off the nerves, flattened your apron, and lightly knocked on Namjoon’s door. You could hear shuffling as he unlocked it.

Your eyes widened, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Namjoon’s half-naked, black shorts hung dangerously low on his waist. His forehead is glistening with sweat.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” you ask while trying to keep your gaze in line with his and not ogling his chiseled body.

Shit—maybe he had company over.

He cards his hand through his platinum blonde hair, but a few pieces fall back, covering his eyes. “No, you’re good. I just finished working out. What’s up?” he asks. His hand holds the door open as he leans against it.

You’re dumbfounded, unable to form words again. It’s like a giant hairball stuck in your throat.

Namjoon’s brows raise, and he calls out to you.

“Oh, sorry!” you say. “I’m attempting to bake a cake but I'm out of sugar. I wanted to ask if you have any I can borrow.”

“I think I do,” he ponders as he steps back. “Come in. Come in.”

You step into a squeaky clean apartment. Didn’t he just move in? How does someone unpack so quickly? Or maybe he had little to begin with.

His apartment was like a museum, with pottery, sculptures, and art prints adorning his walls and shelves. But what catches your attention is the translucent, cylindrical coffee table. It doesn’t seem like anyone should be putting anything on it.

Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.

“Ah, thank you so much! Now my cake batter won’t go to waste.”

“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.

Granted, this man is still half-naked, standing beside you. You’re trying not to go feral over how broad and built he is.

“This, actually,” you point to the glass coffee table.

“That’s probably one of my most prized possessions.”

“It looks expensive.” You’d later come to find out it was worth $1.2M after you did an internet search.

“It is,” he chuckles. “It’s on loan from a friend.”

“On loan?” you ask, turning to him. Your eyes narrow and lips thin. “Can I ask what you do for work?”

“I’m an art curator.”

That makes sense now, considering the expensive and extensive art collection.

“Oh—you’re so fancy,” you tease. “I don’t know shit about art.” You could stand before a painting and feel nothing while looking at it. Maybe you were just going in with the wrong mindset.

Namjoon chuckles. “You can always ask me questions,” he notes before walking away to put on a t-shirt.

You’re a bit disappointed that you can’t ogle him anymore.

“Well, I can’t ask you questions if you don’t take me to a museum,” you flirt, turning toward him.

He grins, showing off his pearly whites and dimple deeply etched into his left cheek. “Are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”

You can’t help but play dumb. “Oh no, of course not! I would like your expertise to guide me around a museum, and if we happen to eat afterward, then I don’t know—would you call that a date?”

Namjoon licks his lips and nods, impressed by your boldness. “Are you busy Friday night?”

The cake wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. You’d have to keep perfecting it and maybe keep asking to ‘borrow’ some sugar from your neighbor.

You debated whether you should tell Jungkook about your date with Namjoon. It’s a harmless date; Jungkook would be off the hook if it goes well. Besides, it’s a silly agreement you two made up while drunk.

But, you’d sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow. There was one more day before the date anyway.

As you were sitting in bed, doing your nightly scrolling through social media. A video call comes through.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

You're on your side when you answer his call. “Hey, Kook,” you say before covering a yawn.

“Ready for bed?” he asks, shuffling underneath his duvet.

Your eyes scan the screen, and you notice his bare shoulders and collarbone on display. You never realized his tattooed sleeve reached so high on his arm, scantily kissing the top of his shoulder.

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, about to call it a night. What's up?"

"I just wanted to call and see how your day was. I was busy at work, so I didn't get to text you," he says.

Now that you think about it, the last text you received from him was this morning. And since the start of your little agreement, Jungkook has been texting and calling more than usual.

"I worked, then attempted to bake a cake."

He props the phone against something as he lies on his side, and parts of his hair still look damp from a shower. And you hate how cuddly he looks while he’s in bed and how you can see how much he works out just from the outline of his arms.

And no—you aren’t thinking about anything else. 

"How'd it turn out?"

You shook your head in disgust. "Not very good."

"Ah, I'm sure it was great."

"I'll stick to store-bought cake for now."

"Next time, we can do it together and fail."

He wants to do everything with you, huh?

You chuckle at his comment and then say what’s on your mind, "I never realized how far your tattoo sleeve went up."

He peers at his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he leans forward to show you, his bicep flexing as he moves.

"Cool guy."

He chuckles. "Hardly cool. Just bored," he says. "So, should I schedule you for your tattoo?"

Since the last conversation, you've been scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram to get some ideas.

"I think I want the birth flower for September."

Jungkook shows you his arm, pointing to his tiger lily tattoo. "This one is for the actual day of birth, but the flower for the month of September is pretty too. Have you thought about placement?"

"Mm, maybe on the back of my neck or the inside of my arm. What do you think?" You show him your arm, then the back of your neck.

"It would look great on the back of your neck. It could be a nice surprise when you have your hair up."

"Oh–I like that idea."

He props himself up on the side with a wide grin. "So, I'm booking your appointment?"

You chuckle. "Yeah, why not? We only live once, right?"

Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.

“Once you get one, you’ll want more. Trust me.”

“At least I’ll have a tattoo buddy for life,” you tease.

“Ah, see, I like the way you’re thinking. Well, I should let my wifey get to sleep,” he gives a small smile. He reaches for his phone, placing it on his chest. His other hand is behind his head as he watches you through the screen.

You hum in agreement. “Night.”

“Night.”

Daydreams are one thing, and when Jungkook lies in bed, he can't help but wonder.

Wonder how you’d look in his favorite t-shirt. Wonder which side of the bed you prefer. Wonder if you dream of him, too. Wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.

Jungkook doesn’t want to wonder anymore; he wants to make you his reality.

thursday.

The birthday festivities started early for you as you requested today and tomorrow off. There’s no way you’re spending your last few days of being 29 stuck at work.

Today’s agenda consisted of a pedicure. The toes have to look cute with your new heels, and as you’re ready to head out to your appointment, Jungkook is at your door when you open it.

You tilt your head, knitting your eyebrows together. “Did we have something planned?”

He shakes his head no and pouts. “No, I wanted to surprise you with another gift.”

He hands you a gift bag, and you take a small peek, reaching down to grab the gift. You pull out a peach-shaped heart bath bomb.

“Peach?” You raise a brow and give a smug grin. “What makes you think I like peach?”

Jungkook snorts. “Oh, pfft–I don’t know. Could it be all the candles or soap? Or how you always order any type of peach-flavored alcohol? Tea? Or–”

You suck in your lips, then give a thin smile. “Son of a peach.”

“Very cute. You’re also great at fruit puns. I’ll add that to the list of reasons why I like you,” he chuckles.

To be fair, everything in your apartment had a hint of peach–your candles, air freshener, hand soap, ChapStick, and not to mention a cupboard full of peach tea.

You chuckle. “Thanks, Kook. You didn’t have to.”

“I do if I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”

You set the bath bomb back in its bag, then on the entryway table. You close the door behind you, forcing him to step back.

“You talk a lot about making me fall in love with you, but you’ve still failed to do so. It’s almost my birthday,” you tease.

What girl wouldn’t want gifts, but you thought he’d push a bit harder.

Jungkook smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He steps closer to you–close enough for you to smell his cologne. It’s a fresh, clean scent.

He’s inches away from you. Warmth is radiating off of him. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. Your eyes are on his, then focus on his lip ring, then the freckle underneath his bottom lip. It’s the first time you’ve been close enough to notice it.

His eyes dart back and forth between yours. His tongue wets his lips, then plays with his ring. “I’m just getting started,” he says.

You close your eyes, fluttering them back open. There’s relief escaping your body once he backs away.

“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, stepping out of the way to let you lead.

“I have a pedicure appointment. Wanna come?” you ask. You wouldn’t mind having company around, and you’re curious how he’ll continue to sweep you off your feet.

You feel bad for the poor woman who has Jungkook in her seat, and you’re trying your best not to laugh as he’s squirming, clutching onto the armrests.

You clear your throat. “Is this your first pedicure?”

“What? No,” he counters, but he’s giggling non-stop, holding on for dear life.

“Sir–I need you to stop moving,” the woman warns.

You cover your mouth. Your shoulders are bouncing due to your giggles. “Kook, she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.”

“How the hell do women do this? This is torture.”

“Can’t handle a little torture?”

He perks up, shaking off the chills. The woman continues to scrub his feet with a pumice stone. He’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh and smile when she gets to the underside of his foot. Then his reflexes get the best of him, and he almost kicks her.

The woman gives him a blank expression but is professional and continues as fast as possible.

An hour later, Jungkook is coming out of the nail salon, sweating bullets from the endless torture of a pedicure.

You look at him and then his toes. “At least your toes are cute.” He let you choose the color, and you had to choose hot pink to match your birthday theme for this weekend.

He does the walk of shame in a pair of yellow flimsy flip-flops because he wasn’t prepared for a pedicure. You’ve been there, done that.

You link your arms to him when you catch up to him. “Hungry?”

Jungkook groans in delight. “You have to try this.”

He leans forward. A piece of his roasted chicken ravioli covered in pink sauce looks delectable. You open your mouth, devouring the pasta. You close your eyes, savoring it.

“See, what did I tell you?” He smiles, going back to his bowl of food. “How’s yours?”

You didn’t want to say you didn’t like it–but you hate it. “It’s good,” you smile and lie through your teeth.

You begin moving the ravioli around, pretending to make it look like you'll eat it.

Jungkook sets his fork down, pushing his bowl toward you. “Here, take mine.”

You look up at him. “What? No–I like my food,” you lie again, grabbing your bowl and clutching it closer to you.

He deadpans. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t like something. Come on, I’ll finish your food, and you can have mine.”

You let go of your bowl. “Are you sure?”

Jungkook smiles warmly, his small dimple on display as he nods. He grabs your bowl and begins to eat it.

Your heart softens, and you’re enchanted by your friend/potential future husband, so it pains you to have this conversation. You tossed and turned the night before because you couldn’t bear the thought of locking your friend into something he'll regret later on.

“So, you might not have to marry me,” you say.

Jungkook looks up at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Damn, someone beat me to it?” he jokes.

You flash a thin smile and shake your head no. “Well, I have a crush on my new neighbor.”

He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”

You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”

Jungkook nibbles on the inside of his mouth then continues to eat. “You barely know the guy, and you’re already tossing me aside?” He tuts, shaking his head.

“I’m–I’m not tossing you aside. You’re still an option, but I’m just saying if it works out with the new neighbor, then you’re off the hook. I'm sure there are better girls out there than me, Kook. You don’t want to be married to me.”

He sets his fork down, pushing his bowl forward. “Well, what can I say? You can’t see the guy?”

“So, you’re okay if I see him?”

Jungkook hesitates to answer. “Mm,” he hums with a nod.

“Are you upset with me?”

“Why would I be upset?” He shrugs. “I’m only a back-up.”

His answer gives you a sense of relief, but you also feel guilty about everything. “Should we end our little deal? That way, you don’t have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. It seems silly now that we’re both sober and not drunk making promises like this.”

He hums and nods again. “You’re right. It does seem foolish.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I'll go pay while you finish up."

You watch him get up and walk to the register. His demeanor changes as soon as you mention ending the deal. 

Is he serious about this?

Honestly, you’re stumped by Jeon Jungkook and his intentions. If he did like you, why not ask you out like an average person? Why go through the trouble of marrying you? So that you could fulfill some silly goal you had for your life?

“I’ll walk you up,” Jungkook says as he turns off the car.

“It’s fine, Kook. You don’t have to,” you counter.

On the ride back, guilt has been eating you from the inside out. You’re unsure why you feel this way–maybe because you feel like a shitty friend. Saying one thing and then doing another.

But again, marriage is a serious thing for two people to consider.

Jungkook doesn’t waver in his decision and escorts you anyway. The silence is deafening in the elevator; the two of you stand at opposite sides, stealing glances. There’s an elephant in the room, but neither of you addresses it.

When the elevator doors open, you expel the caught breath in your throat. Jungkook follows a few steps behind you.

“Are we okay?” you ask, glancing at him before lowering your head.

He stuffs his hand in his pants pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. I feel like an ass because you’ve been such a good friend–especially after my breakups. And then this past week, you’ve been sweet and cute with all the little gifts and hangouts,” you pause to look at him.

His eyes are big and innocent, and his lips form a slight pout. He’s intently listening to your words.

“I’m trying to say I’ve enjoyed being with you this week, and I’m sorry how things turned out,” you manage to spit out.

Jungkook nibbles on his lip, showing off his pretty dimple. His eyes dart to yours as he flashes a thin smile. “Well, I’ll always be your back-up if this guy doesn’t work out.”

You breathe a sigh of relief that he can still joke about this situation. You close the distance between you, reaching up and draping your arms around his neck.

It takes a moment for him to return your hug, but he does–wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. He nuzzles in the crook of your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent and softness.

Your heart’s fluttering, your stomach is somersaulting and doing back-flips. Jungkook’s warmth is all-encompassing, encapsulating every fiber of your being. Neither of you let go, allowing this embrace to go longer than usual friends do.

When you pull away, your lips are so close to his. Close enough to explore what they taste like. Close enough to see how plush they are. Close enough to find out just how much you’d have to gasp for air afterward.

You almost want to give in. You almost want to see where this could go. You almost want him to make a move.

Jungkook whispers your name, and you hum, gazing into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? About the deal? You don’t want it anymore?”

You're becoming lost in the stars and galaxies contained in those doe eyes. Jungkook doesn’t lose focus, doesn’t break character, and doesn’t give you a chance to run away.

“This stops when you say so,” he utters softly.

He’s unrelenting, you think. He wants this, doesn’t he? He wants you.

So these next few words sting. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Jungkook doesn’t even realize when he’s outside his apartment complex. He sits in his car, zoning out. He’s so close to finally getting you, but now there’s someone else?

For two years, he’s been trying to buck up the courage and finally ask you out, and when he finally gets an opportunity, someone always swoops in and steals you away.

When he proposed the agreement, it was more of a joke, that is, until you agreed, and that’s when he knew he’d try whatever it took to get you to the altar.

A knock on Jungkook’s window breaks him from deep thought. He looks up to see his roommate, Hoseok.

He gestures for Jungkook to roll his window down. “Why do you look like you're on the verge of crying? Why don’t you go up to the apartment?”

Jungkook holds onto the steering wheel and groans as his head hits it a few times, muttering, ‘Stupid.’

Hoseok knits his eyebrows in confusion as he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, opening the car door.

Jungkook drags his feet through the threshold and drops his backpack on the floor. He continues walking sluggishly, plopping on the couch, still in a daze.

Hoseok blinks at his friend. “What’s going on?”

“You know how I was trying to make ____ fall in love with me this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “There's a new guy already? I swear this girl must have some kind of bat signal that’s beaming up into the sky that attracts men the second she’s single.”

Jungkook drops his head back, then rubs his face. “What am I going to do?”

Hoseok shrugs. “Maybe tell her how serious you are about being with her.”

“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want to be with me?”

“So, you’re going to trap her in a marriage instead?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Make it make sense, my friend.”

Maybe that's what he wanted. It could be like an arranged marriage. Meet first, then fall in love.

“I know it sounds ridiculous!”

Hoseok rubs Jungkook’s shoulder. “This whole deal is ridiculous. Be honest with her, then she’ll have to choose between you and the new guy.”

He knows Hoseok is right. He should be honest and tell you how he feels.

Or he could get rid of the new guy, and the deal would be back on.

Decisions. Decisions.

friday.

Jungkook was determined to make this agreement work out in his favor. He wasn’t going to back down so easily.

He took off early from work, going straight to your favorite bakery to grab a cake. Thoughts are racing through his mind as he clutches the cake box and walks through the crowded street.

What if this was his last chance? What if this new guy was ‘the one’ for you? He couldn’t let you slip away again.

He’s even prepared a monologue. He’s mumbling it under his breath when he arrives at your door.

When the door opens, he doesn’t find you. Instead, he finds a half-naked man with broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.

Jungkook stands tall and puffs out his chest, back straight, when he sees this unknown man. His mouth is agape as he scans him from head to toe. Was this the guy you were talking about?

He clears his throat and stands his ground. “Oh, uh, who are you?”

“Hey, man. I’m Namjoon. ___’s neighbor,” he says.

“I’ll be right out!” you yell from the other room.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, and he’s trying to calm his nerves. There’s no way you were sleeping with this guy already, right? No, you can’t be, Jungkook shakes the thought from his head.

You sprint from the hallway, holding a shirt. With your clumsy ways, you spilled iced coffee on Namjoon’s shirt right before your date. You felt bad, so you offered to wash it for him.

“Namjoon, I’m so sorry! I’ve tried everything to get it out. I might have to buy you a new shirt–oh,” you gasp. “Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook walks in, setting the box down, and he doesn’t say anything else as he leans against the counter, watching you two.

Namjoon sucks in his lips, strolling to your side, looking at his stained shirt. “Don’t worry about it. It was time to get rid of that shirt anyway.” He gives a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna grab a new shirt, then we’ll be on our way?”

You hum. “See you soon.”

Jungkook’s eyes follow you and Namjoon as you bid him farewell. You lower your head and purse your lips when you approach Jungkook.

“Date night?” he asks, turning to you.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Just wanted to drop off a cake I picked up for you,” he points to the box on the counter.

You see the bakery's name on the box, and it’s from your favorite place. You undo the tabs and unfold the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake with various shades of baby pink and blue, then sitting prettily on top is one of your favorite Sanrio characters: Cinnamoroll.

“Kook–you didn’t just pick this up.” A cake like this was ordered well in advance.

His eyebrows rise, and he gives a half-smile. He walks beside you. “Happy early birthday,” he says as his eyes flick to yours. “See you tomorrow.”

When the door shuts, you wince.

Namjoon has a brilliant mind, and that intimidates you. He's far too intelligent and reasonable for a hopeless romantic who lives in their daydreams and wants a ring on their finger by tomorrow.

The two of you come to a crowded spot in the museum. You look back and smile at Namjoon. He puts his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind. Your stomach somersaults from the affection, but you continue leading the way through the sea of people, trying not to focus on it.

An announcement reminds museum go-ers that they’ll be closing in 15 minutes.

“Should we head out soon?” you ask with disappointment. You thoroughly enjoyed hearing Namjoon talk even though you had nothing insightful to say about the numerous art pieces.

The corners of his mouth curve up. “But we have one more exhibit to see,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He holds out his hand for yours.

You’re intrigued, so you don’t question and place your hand in his.

Everyone starts to file out toward the exit, but the two of you enter an exhibit hidden away in the back.

“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?” you ask.

He chuckles. “You’re cute,” he says before showing you his work ID and security badge.

“Oh,” you giggle. It makes sense. Namjoon did say he was an ‘art curator.’ He just never mentioned where he worked.

“Feel free to look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”

You take your time, roaming around, going from piece to piece. Namjoon stays in place, waiting until you’ve found something. You tilt your head, examining the drawing.

[ frida castelli, milan ]

It's a woman. Her back is bare, and she's curling her hands into the bedsheets. The drawing is cut off right at the small of her back, and one can assume the rest. It's erotic–as this exhibit displays various works from modern artists.

Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”

Horny, you think, but considering this is your first date. You probably shouldn’t blurt it out.

“I like the position she's in,” you say, and Namjoon chokes on nothing. You cover your mouth and can’t help but laugh.

“I like that position too,” he adds.

You try to suppress your smile because now, you’re thinking about the two of you in that position.

"Should we keep looking?"

After a late-night dinner, you’re standing outside your door, not wanting to say goodbye to Namjoon. You’d invite him in, but tomorrow’s a big day, and you have an early wake-up call.

“I hope I was able to answer your questions,” Namjoon says, leaning his shoulder against the door, facing you.

You give him a small smile, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I think you answered everything."

He hums and parts his lips. "Well, I have one question for you, if that's okay."

You nod.

"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"

You lick your lips. "It's not my birthday yet."

Namjoon steps forward, scanning your face. "You can consider it an early birthday present."

"Well, I won't say no to a birthday present."

Your heart is swooning over this tall, handsome man. He’s perfect. He's brilliant and well-spoken. Someone secure and confident, even emotionally available. You’d be a fool not to want this to go further.

Your gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his lips, unsure how to respond. You've been wondering what they taste like all night and want to kiss the freckle underneath his lip. They look so rosy and pillowy, almost like kissing a cloud.

He softly presses his lips against yours. His big hands cup your face. His nose brushes against your cheek. His lips encapture your top lip, then your bottom. He lingers briefly before pulling away, his lips ghosting over yours, and you want to return for more–you’re not done.

“Do that again,” you whisper.

His breath is warm, and he smiles before going back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands are placed on his taut chest, fingers curling and tugging on his shirt. The butterflies in your stomach are yearning for a way out. The desire in you grows deeper. You’re breathless at this point, but you don’t care if you never breathe again.

First kisses always make you go weak in the knees, and you wish you could experience them over and over.

“Your lips are stained,” you notice when you pull away. 

Namjoon chuckles; his thumb swipes at his bottom lip. “That’s okay.”

He moves in to kiss you again, but you stop him by putting your index finger to his lips. “The birthday girl should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

You render him speechless—he made the first move, but you’ll have the final say.

You bid goodbye to him, trying your best not to linger and give in to your urges. Peering through the viewfinder, you see him smiling and shaking his head before he closes the door to his place.

You’re grinning from ear to ear as your back is against the door. The date couldn’t have gone better–though you probably couldn’t write a dissertation on Modern Art in Korea, you appreciated that he took the time to explain what he loves and why he’s so passionate about it.

Maybe he could be the one.

It’s midnight when you’re under the covers and still glowing from your date with Namjoon.

You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:22 PM Hey! I found some cool birth flowers. Do you like any of these? [ 5 images attached ]

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:27 PM And my tattoo guy had a last-minute cancellation for Monday at 6 p.m. I’m gonna book you for it, okay?

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 10:05 PM I can go to hold your hand if you’d like.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:11 PM I hope you had a good day. See you tomorrow, birthday girl.

This differed from how you wanted to celebrate your birthday week, especially not how you envisioned your friendship with Jungkook. Did you ruin it?

And that’s when your heart aches as you reflect on this past week. Jungkook has been so sweet, and you feel like the worst friend. Could he be into you, and you’re blind to notice?

But what about Namjoon? He’s undoubtedly checked off all the boxes you could want in a partner.

Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.

saturday.

The sun is peeking through, and the birds are chirping away. You’ve slept through your alarm because you’re still in dreamland.

You’re unsure who’s in bed with you. All you hear is a groan and shuffling as they reposition themselves. You peer over your shoulder, quickly turning away when they pull themselves closer to you. Then, as an arm comes into view, draping over you, you recognize the inked skin.

It’s Jungkook.

A buzz from your phone and a bang at the door awakens you. Missed notifications of calls and texts from Jenn, your best friend, flood your screen.

You sprint to the door, unlocking and opening it for her.

“Jesus Christ—I thought you were dead,” Jenn says after she brushes past you, setting several bags on your kitchen counter.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, babe,” she blinks, giving you the once-over. “You haven’t showered, have you?”

You shake your head no.

“Well, go! It’s your birthday, but we can’t wait all day for you.” She shoos you off to the bathroom.

When you’re out of the shower, Jenn’s sitting in front of your vanity, putting on her blush.

“So, how are you doing, babe? Still not over Theodore Boner?”

“Bonner,” you correct her.

You adjust your towel, tucking it securely. “There’s been some new developments,” you say, walking to your dresser.

Jenn slowly turns around. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with him? He was a walking red flag. Well, at the end of your relationship anyway.”

You press your lips together, shaking your head. “You know that time I was upset about my break-up with Jimin?”

Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.

“Jungkook and I went out and got pretty drunk.”

She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”

You cleared your throat. “I may have agreed that if Jungkook and I were still single by 30, we’d get married.” You turned around, opening the top drawer in search of cute underwear.

Jenn’s jaw drops. “You’re not going to marry Jeon Jungkook, are you?”

You laugh it off. “No, of course not! But he’s always been there for me after my break-ups.”

“Oh, how convenient that he also happens to be single by your 30th birthday,” she says dryly.

“Jungkook’s been a good friend, and if we were to get married, and that’s a big if, then honestly, I think we’d be pretty good together,” you explain.

You're not sure if you're attempting to persuade Jenn or yourself. You’re not going to lie. You’ve toyed with the idea this whole week.

“Why don’t you just date Jungkook then?” she asks, returning to add more blush to her cheeks.

You nibble on your bottom lip. “Err–well, because there’s a new guy.”

She whips her head back around. “I go on a solo trip, and you have not one but two guys who want to be with you?”

“Technically, I told Jungkook that if things work out with me and Namjoon, he doesn’t have to marry me.”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”

“Shut up! Your neighbor?” Jenn stands, sprinting out your bedroom door. “Which apartment? I need to see this man.”

“Jenn!” You run after her, clutching her arm, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, will you? He’ll be at the party tonight.”

Jenn turns to you. “Babe–you have Jungkook and new neighbor guy vying for your attention? Sheesh. When can I be the main character?”

You grip your towel and drag her back to your room.

“At least tell me more juicy details,” she whines.

Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror. Hot pink usually is not part of his wardrobe color, but he does it in a heartbeat if it involves you and your silly antics.

He slips the hot pink denim jacket over his white shirt and matching pink cargo trousers. He adds a neon green necklace to finish off his look.

This outfit is Ken-esque, right? He sighs, wishing you could be the Barbie to his Ken.

His roommate, Hoseok, knocks on his door, breaking his focus. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

Jungkook nibbles the inside of his cheek. This week’s been a rollercoaster of emotions for him. He was at an all-time high before you broke the news that you no longer need a back-up.

He’s gone back and forth, debating whether to fight for you or give up.

"I don't know yet," Jungkook responds. He glances at Hoseok through the mirror's reflection.

“Tell her how you feel. Be honest with her,” Hoseok says. He’s been telling Jungkook for two years now.

Jungkook turns around. “I can’t–” he pauses and huffs a breath, taking a seat on the bed.

Hoseok narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans against the door frame. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve done too much shit by breaking up her relationships. She’ll never forgive me,” Jungkook explains.

Hoseok choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Remember Jimin and Theo?”

Hoseok hums.

Jungkook clears his throat. “I may or may not have told some harmless lies that ended up in them breaking up with her.”

Hoseok huffs out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell her right off the bat that you wanted to date her.”

“I’m an idiot, that’s why, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t want me. She wants the neighbor guy.”

Hoseok sits by his friend. “It’s either now or never. You can’t keep breaking up her relationships because you’re too scared to be in a real one with her. You don’t want to start it off that way.”

Jungkook flings himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know! I’ve just never done this before. I don’t know how to act. She’s the first person I’ve had actual feelings for.”

Hoseok blinks at his friend, ready to say something, but Jungkook interrupts him. “Don’t say shit about that–many people don’t meet the right person until later in life.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. “There’s no judgment from me, my friend. Just consider my words before anyone gets hurt.”

You swipe the lip tint across your bottom lip and repeat with the top. Glancing in the mirror, you adjust your dusty rose dress and tie your matching ribbon in your hair.

The theme for tonight's party is Barbie core, and individuals are encouraged to wear any shade of pink. You’re ridiculous, but you only turn 30 once–why not go all out?

Buckets of bubbly are filled with rosé bottles and floral ice cubes. Barbie-esque props, including heart-shaped sunglasses and cut-out foam lips, are ready to be used at the photo booth. You’ve spent too much time on Pinterest planning the perfect celebration.

It’s ten to seven and still too early for people to show, so you order a Malibu Barbie cocktail at the bar. Jin, the bartender, even tops off your drink with pink sanding sugar for this special occasion and throws in a little peach schnapps.

“There’s the birthday girl.”

When you turn around, you see Jungkook in a bright pink attire. Not every day you see him dressed in anything other than black or white, so you consider this a rare treat.

He offers you a warm hug, and you both act as if nothing has changed. It’s not like you’ve seen him every day as he’s dropped off gifts for you, or he willingly watched a rom-com and definitely hadn’t cuddled.

It’s like you’ve gone back to being just friends.

As you withdraw, you give him the once-over. “You look great in hot pink. I wish I got to see your matching toes.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t think sandals would go with this outfit.”

You shake your head no.

“You look amazing,” he adds, taking your hand and making you twirl for him.

“Thanks, Kook,” you grin. Your hand lingers in his as he delicately caresses your skin. The back of your neck is warming up, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake breaking off your deal.

“Ah, there’s our Barbie girl!” Jenn exclaims as she approaches you. Immediately, you let go of Jungkook’s hand.

“Hey!” you answer, rubbing the back of your neck. “What’s up? Did you need something?”

Jenn raises her brow at you and Jungkook. “I did, but you’re busy with Ken, so I’ll ask Hoseok to help me. Enjoy your night, babe.”

You take your drink and dash off with Jenn, telling Jungkook you’ll see him later. As you stroll behind her, you loop your arm around hers.

“Are you okay?” Jenn narrows her eyes, suppressing a smile.

You clear your throat. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It looks like you and loverboy were having a moment there before I interrupted,” she says, setting down the flower vase on the dessert table.

“He’s not my loverboy. I’m gonna start seeing Namjoon, remember?”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Look–all I’m saying is you should give Jungkook a chance. Anyone could tell he’s head over heels in love with you.”

You choke on your drink. “What? How come no one’s ever told me?”

Jenn laughs. “I never put two and two together until you mentioned your little agreement with him this morning,” she pauses, cupping your face. “And my sweet, innocent Barbie girl, he shoots heart eyes whenever you’re around.” She holds your chin, turning you in Jungkook’s direction.

Jungkook is leaning on the bar, attempting to find the perfect stance to appear cool, but he has no idea what to do with himself. He peers in your direction, catching your gaze, and quickly turns away, waving down the bartender.

She continues, “You’ve been with so many knockoff Kens that you were blind to the real one. He’s a bit of a goofball, but he seems sweet, and like you mentioned today, he’s always around when you’re in need.”

What if your decision was a mistake? Would it be too late to change your mind? You were sure Jungkook had already moved on after being rejected.

You watch while Jungkook drinks something–you figure it's vodka. A shot for yourself seems enticing, simply to settle your anxieties.

Your birthday is supposed to be filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, not you being torn between two great guys.

The party is in full swing–the music’s blaring, friends laughing, chattering, drinking away. Everyone has arrived except for the one person you've been looking for: Namjoon.

You giggle when you scan the room and see Hoseok and Jungkook dancing in the corner. When your eyes catch him, he gestures for you to come dance, but you haven’t had enough alcohol to make a fool of yourself.

He sprints to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. “You need a drink before you dance, huh?”

Your lips thin, and you think, how does he know you so well? 

You nod and follow him from behind. You stare blankly as his hands are loosely intertwined with yours. He’s leading you through the crowd, letting go once you’re at the bar’s counter.

“Do you still want that pink drink thingy you had earlier?”

“Surprise me,” you say.

“Two Pink Cadillacs, please,” he says to Jin.

As Jin gets to work on your drinks, Jungkook makes small talk to kill time.

“Are you having fun?” he asks, standing before you. He sways to the song's beat, grinning from ear to ear.

You’d have more fun if you weren’t thinking about him and Namjoon all night. Considering that Namjoon hasn’t even shown up yet, you appreciate that Jungkook’s a sweet and caring friend.

“I’ll be having more fun once I have this drink,” you say over the music.

“You’re not having fun with me?” he jokes, holding out his hand for yours, and of course, you take it.

He draws you to him, makes you twirl around, and then dips you. A slight squeal escapes your lips when you come back up.

Jungkook chuckles. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“No, I’m–I’m having a good time,” you answer his previous question.

“Are you sure? It looks like something’s on your mind,” Jungkook notes. "You can always talk to me, you know."

Even after breaking off your agreement, he's still willing to be a good friend to you. How'd you get so lucky with someone like him?

"I know," you smile, draping your arms around his neck.

"Two Pink Cadillacs."

You break away from him, grabbing your drink. The two of you sip on them, watching the crowd.

"Jungkook, one. Hot sexy neighbor, zero," Jenn whispers in your ear before walking away.

You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at her. It’s been an hour, and Namjoon is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe something came up. Things happen. You get it.

"What's going on with Jenn?" he asks.

"Nothing," you reply as you move to stand before him. "You know how she is."

Jungkook takes another sip of his drink. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

Your eyes widen and flick to him. Have you been obvious about what’s on your mind?

“Yeah, of course–” you say before a hand slides on the small of your back. You turn to see the man who’s been MIA, Namjoon.

“Hey, birthday girl. I’m sorry I’m late! It was a lot harder to find a pink outfit than I thought,” Namjoon chuckles, then he sees that he may have interrupted something. “Oh–hey, man! Jungkook, right?”

Jungkook gives a small smile, and you mouth, ‘Sorry.’

“Can I steal you away for a second?” Namjoon asks, and you oblige.

Namjoon takes your hand, ready to drag you off, but you stop and return to Jungkook. “Can we talk later?”

He nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your birthday. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”

Jungkook looks on as you and Namjoon disappear. You laugh when he says something, and Jungkook can hear it–you always let out a tiny squeak, your shoulders bounce, and you cover up your mouth because you don't like how your teeth show when you laugh.

He rubs the back of his neck. He’ll have to find time to talk to you later.

Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”

Jungkook sips his drink and inhales sharply. “Her neighbor.”

“They look pretty cozy to me,” Hoseok remarks. “Go say something before it’s too late.”

It’s already too late, Jungkook thinks. He’s lost you again. What’s the point if he tried with you and you didn’t want him?

He chugs the drink and orders another round for him and Hoseok. He might as well enjoy the booze while he can–at least it would get you off his mind.

Jungkook's vision is blurred, speech slurred. Even though he sees double, his gaze is still fixed on you and Namjoon, following you wherever you go: the photo booth, the bar, the dance floor. Namjoon’s hands haven’t left you, whether holding your hand or soft touches on the small of your back.

It should be him, he thinks, but he’s been turned down before. He couldn't imagine being rejected twice.

He leans on a high-top table, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it. A few of your friends drag you off to the photo booth for the umpteenth time tonight, and Namjoon is left waiting for you.

Jungkook waits and observes Namjoon, wondering why you’d choose Namjoon over him. He thinks he could take the guy in the boxing ring. He’s too big and sluggish to move as fast as Jungkook. Indeed, he could knock Namjoon out with his right hook. But if it’s not a physical thing you’re looking for, then it’s an intellectual thing.

He shakes off the self-deprecating thoughts. Why doesn’t he go over and chat the guy up? Get to know him. It won’t hurt to find out what kind of guy he is.

There's a queue of friends waiting to take individual shots with you, and you look over to check whether Namjoon is all right. You notice Jungkook approaching and breathe a sigh of comfort, knowing he'll keep Namjoon company.

Jungkook stands up tall when he’s beside Namjoon. “Lavish party, huh?”

Namjoon turns to him and chuckles. “Yeah, she went all out for her 30th.” He cracks his neck and adjusts his bright pink blazer.

“Since you’ll be around, you should get used to it. ___ throws parties like this all the time.”

“She does?” Namjoon’s eyes widened with concern.

Jungkook pouts and nods. “You think this is bad? Last year, she rented a private island, and everyone who attended had to buy a plane ticket to her party.”

Namjoon gulps.

“Man–and now that you guys are together. I'm wishing nothing but the best for you," Jungkook shakes his head. "The last guy was going through it.”

“Last guy? What happened to the last guy?”

Jungkook glances in your direction, then back to Namjoon. “Oh, you guys haven’t had that conversation yet?”

“What conversation?”

“Let’s just say there was a restraining order involved.”

There’s a look of relief on Namjoon’s face. “Man, that guy must’ve been a psycho.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Oh no, no, no. The restraining order was against her!”

Namjoon shifts his position, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. Once, she took a bat to a neighbor’s car, thinking it was her boyfriend’s. Mind you, she was pretty drunk—and it was dark, but when she has an idea that you’re cheating on her, all hell breaks loose,” Jungkook tuts.

“Oh.”

Jungkook chuckles. “And don’t even get me started on her obsession with that one K-pop group, Seventeen. She practically has a shrine in her bedroom. Mingyu’s face is plastered on every square inch of her walls, and when they finally came on tour, she drained so much of her savings flying everywhere to see them—front row, I might add.”

Namjoon clears his throat. “I think I need a drink,” he says.

“But don’t worry, man, you’ll be fine!” Jungkook shouts as Namjoon walks away.

He lowers his head and rubs his face. He blames the alcohol for his stupidity. His string of lies is why you would never want to be with him.

Although Jungkook has spewed many lies to Namjoon, it doesn’t scare him off. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. And when he sees Namjoon jet off somewhere, Jungkook swoops in, hoping he’ll have a chance to talk to you before it’s too late.

“Hey!” Jungkook says out of breath. “Going home?”

“Yeah,” you beam a warm smile. “I’m pretty wiped.”

“I can take you home, and then maybe we can talk?”

You nod. “Mm, that sounds like a plan.”

You’ve always found it easy to talk to Jungkook. Even though he claims not to be good at chitchatting, he knows how to make you smile and laugh.

“Did you see Hoseok and Jenn trying to undress each other?” Jungkook chuckles.

“Jenn claims she thought Hoseok was a Ken doll,” you giggle. “I don’t know why they keep skirting around each other. They should date already.”

You two arrive outside your apartment. You unlock the keypad, leaving the door open. Turning back, you see Jungkook standing there. “Are you gonna come in or talk to me from out there?” you ask, shaking your head.

Jungkook walks through the door, closing it behind himself. He smooths down his pants and fixes the collar of his jacket. His gaze darts around the room as he prepares to say what’s on his mind.

“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”

Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.

With a heavy sigh, he takes a seat on the couch. He keeps shifting his weight, but nothing feels right. The sweat on his hands increases as the seconds pass by. He's never done it before, confessed his feelings.

Jungkook had rehearsed like he was up for a big audition but felt he’d stumble over his words and blurt out bleh-bleh-blahs.

You resurface a few seconds later, wearing an oversized t-shirt and what appears to be nothing underneath, but when you sit down, he catches a peek at your shorts.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, about us.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Us?”

A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyebrows knitted together, wondering who it could be this late at night. When you open it, you find Namjoon.

“Hey! You left your phone at the restaurant,” he says. He acknowledges Jungkook as he steps in.

“Oh, thank you! Ah–don’t leave yet! I have something to give to you, too.” You dash to your room, leaving Jungkook and Namjoon.

There’s a moment before Jungkook breaks the silence. He turns to Namjoon. “That shirt she’s wearing is from her ex-boyfriend. She sleeps in it every night because she misses him.”

Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.

“Trust me–you should run while you can,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.

He points to the small Seventeen merch collection sitting on a shelf in your living room. “See. It’s cute and innocent until it’s not.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Namjoon says reluctantly as he turns away, trying to focus on other things until you return.

You leave your room with a bag, handing it to Namjoon. “I washed your shirt and bought you a new one too.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he reaches for the shirt, taking it out.

“I know, but I felt bad about ruining it.”

Namjoon chuckles. "I like how you're giving me a gift on your birthday."

You wave off his comment. "It's nothing. Thanks for returning my phone,” you say, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you later?”

He flashes a grin; his dimples etched deeply into those cheeks. You pull him down to kiss him on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his lips. You let it linger for a second longer, ensuring Jungkook can see it.

“Bye,” you whisper, closing the door behind him.

You stand with your back facing Jungkook. Clenching your jaw and your fists, you huff a breath. Turning around, you stare at the one person you thought was your friend.

“This is my ex-boyfriend’s shirt, and I sleep in it because I miss him?” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.

Your glare silences Jeon Jungkook, and his deer-in-the-headlights appearance implies guilt.

You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Have you been sabotaging all my relationships? Tell me the truth.”

You remember Jimin and Theo and how conveniently Jungkook had been there after each breakup.

There’s still no word from Jungkook. He’s playing with the invisible hair on his chin before he stands. “Yeah, but it’s only because—”

“Because what!” you exclaim. Never in a million years did you think you’d be yelling at a good friend. “Because you want to marry me? Why didn’t you just ask me out, Kook?”

The nickname causes his heart to ache. His eyes darted to the floor, then at you. “Because...”

You lean forward, waiting for his excuse, but he doesn’t give you one. You’re only met with silence.

“Because you’re the kind of guy who lies and manipulates to get what he wants? Didn’t really think you were that kind of person.”

“I’m not—”

“You are! If you cared about me, you wouldn’t go around spreading lies. And to think I was going to marry you? God–you must think I’m fucking stupid.”

"No, I don't think that at all—" he counters, taking a step toward you, and you take a step back.

Licking your lips, you play with your bottom lip. "I—I don't even know who you are anymore."

"I'm the same person you met two years ago," he says. Jungkook steps toward you again, reaching out for you.

"Don't touch me," you warn. "Don't you ever talk to me again," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You should go, Kook."

Jungkook walks past you. He makes his way to the door—and when it shuts, you flinch.

Approaching your 30s, you figured you’d be crying because you’re likely to have a mid-life crisis and not because one of your good friends has lied to you for the last couple of years.

Jungkook has misled you throughout the week. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.

Your heart aches from the pain. Why did this hurt more than a breakup? You trusted him, even considered marrying him and spending the rest of your life with him. How could you be so naive? Maybe it was your distorted perception of love and relationships, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.

Maybe it's your fault and no one else's.

sunday.

It’s early. Too early for Jungkook’s taste.

He’s been tossing and turning all night. Wishing he could redo the last two years. Wishing he could’ve been honest from the beginning. Wishing you didn’t hate him right now.

Picking up his phone, he grumbles after seeing the time—six in the morning. There’s no way you’re up, he thinks. And there’s no way you’ll pick up his call either.

He assumes you’ve blocked him—wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t blame you.

The expression on your face is ingrained in his memory, and the lies he told are on a continuous loop. How would he win you back—if you’d let him, that is.

It’s that point in the romantic movie where the love interest finds the courage to go for it. Jungkook has nothing else to lose at this point. It’s now or never.

With your favorite iced coffee and pastry in hand, he’s ready to beg for your forgiveness. Beg for another chance to make things right.

Three knocks strike your door. No answer.

He gives it another moment before doing it again.

And nothing.

He pulls out his phone, searching for your contact. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. At least you didn’t block him, he thinks.

Should he wait here all day? In hopes you’ll leave your apartment?

Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.

Jungkook figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He’s already lost his dignity.

Another three knocks, only this time it’s on Namjoon’s door. A few moments later, the lock unlatches, and the door opens.

Namjoon’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Hey. Have you seen or heard from ___?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t.”

The corners of Jungkook’s lips turn down, and he nods. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lowering his head. He turns on his heel, ready to leave.

“Hey, Jungkook?”

He turns back and hums.

“If you like her, be honest with her,” Namjoon says.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Did ___ tell you?”

Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head no. “I figured you were lying when you said she made everyone fly to a private island. She mentioned that she’s never flown before. So I put two and two together, and it was hard to ignore all the glares you gave me at the party.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry about all the lies I told you. None of them were true—except maybe the Mingyu thing. She does have an obsession with that guy.”

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry about coming between you two. But it’s no wonder she likes you. You have your head on straight, unlike me.”

A grin sweeps across Namjoon’s face. “It’s okay. I get it, man. I’ve been there before—not the lying, but I’ve been head over heels for someone. ___ is cool, and you seem like a good guy. Just…don’t give up on her, okay?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What about you guys?”

“Huh? Me and ___?” Jungkook hums. “We’ve been out on one date, and you’ve known her for…?

“Two years.”

“You have more history with her than I do.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”

Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’d be a fool to give up now. Trust me, you don’t want to live with the what ifs and what could have been.”

“Um, here,” Jungkook says, handing Namjoon the iced coffee and pastry bag. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”

He bids Namjoon goodbye, and as he’s driving home, he stares off into space, pondering Namjoon’s words.

What if you never want to talk to him again? What if he loses you?

He only wanted his chance with you; whenever he gathered the courage to do so, someone always came into the picture before him. He’s realized how much his lies caused more harm than good. He was cheating his way into your heart, which is unfair to you and him.

You peek out when the elevator doors open, ensuring the coast is clear. You've seen the missed calls and texts but needed more time to be ready to face Jeon Jungkook. That's why you've been hiding out at Jenn's all day. But alas, you had to go home and face your fears.

Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.

It’s not like Jungkook’s been waiting around for you, right? Though, you didn’t want to make it known that you were home.

Not even ten minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s a knock on your door. Peering through your viewfinder, you check if the coast is clear and unlock your door. You grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the apartment.

"Whoa–miss me that much?" he jokes, setting down the iced coffee and pastry bag.

"What's that?"

"Jungkook dropped it off this morning, but you weren't here. Have you been hiding?"

You lower your head. "Yes."

Namjoon licks his lips. “He’s in love with you, you know?”

You ignore the coffee and pastry bag and sit on the couch. “It’s a weird way to show that you like someone by lying and sabotage.”

“I think it’s cute,” Namjoon chuckles, sitting beside you.

Disbelief is written all over your face: eyes wide, brows lifted, jaw open, which only makes him laugh harder.

“You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d say single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.”

“Is this a weird ‘guy code?’ Am I missing something?”

He shakes his head. “I get where he’s coming from. Does it suck that he lied instead of saying what he wanted? Yeah, but maybe he didn’t know how to say it because he feared he’d say nonsense in front of you. I know the feeling–where you like someone so much, you’re afraid of looking dumb.”

You ponder Namjoon’s words, sipping on your iced coffee. “You seem chatty. Does that mean you don’t go dumb around me?” you ask dryly.

Namjoon laughs. “I get butterflies and excitement every time I walk out my door, hoping I’d bump into you.”

“But?”

“But you should figure things out with Jungkook, and then we’ll go from there.”

It’s silly—the glow-in-the-dark stars that are plastered on your ceiling. Half of them threaten to fall, and the other half are stuck on so tight it’ll take off the paint.

“You’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars before?” Jungkook asks. “Let’s get some.”

The only reason why they’re up there in the first place is because of him. Jungkook was comforting you after your breakup with Jimin.

You throw your duvet over your head, screaming into it. How could you have been so blind? So stupid? How are you supposed to face him again with your friend group? Or alone?

This past week was perfect—at least, you thought it was. But you’re second-guessing every interaction, every conversation, every laugh, every touch.

If you hadn’t met Namjoon, could you have fallen in love with Jungkook?

The more you thought about it, the more you hated that you were falling for him. Maybe Namjoon was just an excuse not to explore a relationship with Jungkook. Maybe you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, but then again, what did it matter because it’s been sabotaged by Jungkook himself?

How would you get out of this mess?

monday.

A notification ding shows up on your phone.

[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]

Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.

You go through your text messages, finding the Instagram profile of Kai, who’s supposed to tattoo you. You frown when you see a cancellation fee and that the cancellation should’ve been done two days before the appointment. Now, you have to mentally prepare yourself for getting your first tattoo.

The recommendations on your YouTube only show videos of ‘how much does getting a tattoo hurt.’ You know the pain that goes into a needle puncturing your skin. The question was, how high was your pain threshold?

When you walk into the shop, a bell chimes. It’s in pristine condition, as one would expect from a tattoo parlor. You’re greeted by a girl dressed in a black latex v-neck top. A sunray heart tattoo sits right on her chest.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”

She clicks through her computer and beams a warm smile. “For ___?” You nod. “Is Jungkook coming too?” she asks.

“Oh no. I don’t think so.” Was he planning on getting something, too? You didn’t think he’d show after everything went down.

“Kai is finishing up with a client, and he’ll come get you when he’s ready.”

You flash a small smile, taking a seat in their lounge. You’re picking at your nail beds and bouncing your leg. You’re trying to focus on anything other than what will happen soon.

A light noise of whirring fills the room. You close your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. It’s a small tattoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you think.

A part of you wishes Jungkook was here to hold your hand like he said he would. It's dumb even to want him to be here. But after spending so much time with him this past week, you admit you miss him.

"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.

You take a deep breath and follow him to his workspace.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”

“You’ll do great. I know it,” Kai smiles, sitting at his desk. He grabs his iPad. “Okay, what are we getting today?” Kai asks.

“Um, I turned 30 yesterday, so I wanted to get the birth flower for September,” you say, showing him the inspiration photos.

“Ah, Happy Birthday,” Kai grins. “Birth flowers are a great choice. Any idea where you want it and the size?”

"On the back of my neck, I don't want anything too big. Two to three inches."

"Oh–a woman who knows what she wants. There was no hesitation," Kai teases. "Cool–so, I'll sketch out a few options, and then we'll go from there. Sound good?"

You press your lips together and nod. As Kai's working on your sketch, you stroll around his workspace, looking at the illustrations hung up. There's traditional and fine line art, and you recognize a drawing of a snake—it looks like the one Jungkook has on his arm.

“See anything else you like?”

“I, um, recognize some of your work. You’ve tattooed my friend, Jungkook,” you note, turning back to look through more of Kai’s sketches.

Somehow, your nerves have finally calmed down. The whirring noise from the tattoo gun is like white noise to you, drowning everything out. You’re lost in the intricate detailing of the drawings. Tattooing is true art, you think. But instead of a traditional canvas or paper, it’s forever inked on someone’s skin.

“Okay, let me know what you think of these.” Kai shows you the iPad with a few flowers drawn out.

“You’re so quick,” you comment as you review your options. “Let’s go with this one.” You love how delicate and dainty the tattoo looks.

“If you need a break at any time, just let me know,” Kai gives a warm smile. “I apologize for the weird positioning, but I’ll need you to lay on your stomach, and your head will hang off the table.”

Your lips thin when you catch his gaze. You remove your zip-up hoodie and place it on a chair with your bag. Kai prints the design on transfer paper, putting the placement on the back of your neck. He hands you a mirror, ensuring it’s in the correct spot.

“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.

Once you’re on the table, the once-soothing noise of the tattoo gun flips a switch, and sweat builds up in the palms of your hands. The blood rushes to your head as your head is hanging off the table. You can see Kai’s feet as he steps on the foot pedal, ensuring his equipment works correctly.

You take a deep breath, trying to exhale fear and anxiety, but nothing works. The tattoo gun sounds closer, and the needle inches away from you. Your fists clench up, and you close your eyes, hoping it’ll be over quickly.

You can feel the latex glove on your back as Kai’s ready to outline the design. You can do this, you think.

With eyes still closed, fists clenched—you’re ready.

The shop's bell chimes again, but you’re too focused on this needle about to prick your skin. You can feel another presence. Their warmth is radiating on you. You figure it’s just the girl from the front, so you don’t bother to open your eyes.

Your fist unclenches, and not because of your own doing. It’s whoever is beside you. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of black motorcycle denim tucked into leather stomper boots.

“Hey—my man,” Kai stops and acknowledges. “Good to see you, Jungkook.”

“Hey,” Jungkook replies. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Nah, you’re right on time. We just started. I’m sure ___ appreciates you being here,” Kai notes, returning to tattooing you.

You didn’t want to admit it, but having Jungkook’s presence was comforting. A part of you wanted to be stubborn and pull your arm away, but considering that a needle was piercing your skin—it wasn’t a good idea.

Jungkook laces his hand with yours; his thumb lightly grazes over your skin. He leans forward, whispering, “Hi.”

You’re unsure if the shiver running through your spine is because of the needle or Jungkook.

While lying on this tattoo table, you’re at war with yourself. An angel on one shoulder tells you to stay strong and not give in because he’s holding your hand. The devil, on the other hand, is telling you you’re a simp and can’t resist when a man is fawning over you.

You hate that the devil is right, and you’re even considering Namjoon’s words, ‘You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d stay single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.’

Was it dedication or delusion?

You won’t lie. You’ve done questionable things when it came to love, too, so you couldn’t blame Jungkook. Maybe you should hear him out and see what he says for himself.

You’re silent, letting Kai do his thing. He and Jungkook chit-chat about life and future tattoos. The buzzing mechanical hum from the tattoo gun is constant and annoying—you’re growing numb to it like you’re growing numb to the pain.

But Jungkook’s touch? It makes you tingle. You’re keenly aware of how his thumb strokes against your knuckle—the constant squeezes, reassuring your anxiety when the pain shoots down your spine.

Through the years, that’s what Jungkook’s always been—he soothes your pain.

Maybe he’s responsible for your current pain - the shattered relationships and this tattoo you’re getting, but he always has a back-up plan: himself. He’s the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold—the constant, consistent one who shows up repeatedly.

He’s confusing but calming, and you’re annoyed at how much you don’t mind his touch. Your breathing slows, and your shoulders relax as you sink into the cushioned table.

“Almost done,” Kai notes.

That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.

Kai finishes cleaning the tattoo, and after you stand up from your awkward position, you’re face to face with Jungkook. Once again, Jungkook resorted back to his favorite color: black. He’s in an oversized long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and there’s a silver chain adorning his neck.

His doe eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth curve up. “The tattoo looks good on you,” he says softly. “Do you wanna see?”

Even with a mirror, the placement makes it hard to see the finished product. You grab your phone, open the camera app, and hand it over to Jungkook. You turn around, facing the mirror, holding up your hair. You catch Jungkook’s gaze and look away. His hand gently touches the nape of your neck, removing a stray hair. He snaps a few photos, handing your phone back.

“It looks beautiful on you.”

You mumble a word of thanks, grabbing your things, attempting to flee from his presence.

Pulling out your wallet to pay for your tattoo, you head to the front, but the girl stops you.

“Jungkook already paid,” she says.

The nape of your neck warms up, and your nostrils flare. You nod at the girl. Bumping into Jungkook on the way out, you stuff your wallet back into your bag, and Jungkook follows you, catching up.

“Why did you do that?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook.

"Because it's your birthday present. I couldn't let you pay for it."

You narrow your eyes, giving him the once over. “Why? So you can tell the next guy I date how we have matching tattoos and scare him off?” you retort, brushing past him.

Jungkook cards his hand through his hair. “Come on, that’s not fair,” he shouts, running after you again.

He calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you breathe a heavy sigh. “You’re right. It's not fair,” you give him a wry smile. “But doesn’t it sound like something you’d say? Mr. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.”

The third time must be the charm because he’s chasing after you again.

“Hey, can we talk, please?” he implores as his eyes scan your face.

You zig-zag around him.

He repeats by running and standing in front of you. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“Watch me,” you retort, attempting to flee again.

Jungkook holds his hand up. “Just hear me out, and if you never want to talk to me again after that, then so be it."

You huff. “Only if you drop me off at home,” you say, crossing your arms. You don’t feel like taking the subway; it’s the least he could do.

With hands in your lap, you’re waiting for Jungkook to say something, but he’s as quiet as a mouse. He’s missed two exits and been driving in circles, going past your apartment complex for the fourth time. You wouldn’t be surprised if a police car starts following you, considering how suspicious the two of you look.

You can’t take it anymore—the endless dancing around this conversation. “I thought you wanted to talk?” you ask as your eyes flick in his direction for a moment.

He straightens his posture, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road. "I'm, uh, I’m sorry for telling all those lies. It was stupid of me. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.���

You bury your face in your hands before turning to him. “If you liked me, why didn’t you tell me?”

You had come up with many scenarios in your head and thought back to your conversations and interactions with him. Jungkook had so many chances to say something, but he never did.

Jungkook shrugs and looks at you briefly before returning to the road.

“It’s easy being your friend, but to be your boyfriend? That scares me.”

You get it. Opening your heart, being vulnerable, and giving your everything to one person is terrifying. Sometimes, it feels like days, months, and years are wasted with one person when it doesn’t work out.

“Scared you’d screw it up?” you ask, turning to him.

Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.

With a sigh, you admit, “You were on your way to being a pretty good boyfriend.”

You hate that you found him so sweet and cute, even after everything that’s happened.

“I was?” he questions with widened eyes and turns off the ignition. He shifts to face you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. Your hand lingers on the door handle. “Walk me up?”

The two of you are on opposite sides of the elevator. Jungkook’s leaning on the metal bar behind himself with his legs crossed in front of him.

He hangs his head before looking up at you. "What if I had been truthful from the beginning? Do you think we would’ve been together?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “I don’t know, Kook. I guess we’ll never know.”

When the elevator arrives at your floor, it chimes, and you exit, and Jungkook follows. You stop outside your door, watching as Jungkook leans his shoulder against the wall, facing you.

You can tell when something is brewing in Jungkook’s mind. You’ve been friends long enough for you to notice some tendencies.

With an eyebrow lifted and his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek, he’s ready to lay something on you. He licks his lips, eyes flick to yours.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says.

You can feel your stomach somersaulting when he doesn’t break eye contact. Your heart rate rises as you work harder to pump more blood than usual.

There were small, fleeting moments where you could picture yourself with him: weekend mornings with breakfast in bed and late-night cuddles on the couch.

“I’m trying my hardest not to feel something,” you confess. As much as he was scared to screw it up, so were you. You’ve never dated a friend. You’ve met all your ex-boyfriends through mutual friends. You’ve built fantasies of what a perfect boyfriend and relationship should look like, and Jungkook wasn't perfect–but neither were you.

Jungkook moves closer. “So you like me too?” His eyes dart from your parted lips to your eyes.

“I don’t not like you,” you say softly, stepping forward as you play with his silver chain.

"So where does this leave us?" He’s searching your face for an answer.

As always, your heart is at war with your head. The sensible thing to do is to stay friends. The foolish thing is to see how this could pan out. What if you could get your happily ever after?

"What would you do if I was yours?" you ask.

"If you were mine?"

You hum.

"If you were mine, I'd spend every waking minute with you. Asking anything and everything that comes to mind. I want to know what makes you happy and sad. I want to know what you love and hate. I want to know everything your heart desires." Jungkook eliminates the distance. "I'd pepper you with kisses all day–on your neck, cheeks, forehead, lips–everywhere,” he says softly as his eyes never leave yours. "If you were mine, I'd never lie to you again. I'd love you with every breath and never let you go." He’s eye to eye with you, hands cupping your face. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I was an idiot for not saying anything sooner. But if this is the only time I could be with you, I'll take it."

You gulp. Jungkook’s saying all the right things, everything a girl could want. You hate it. You hate that you’re a sucker for heartfelt moments and love confessions. Neverending cartwheels occupy your stomach. The little gymnast in there is going for the gold–doing back flips and leaps; there’s no way to stop them. Your heart beats faster for him than for anyone else–even more than Namjoon.

All it took was a silly agreement and a few lies to make you realize you didn’t want a perfect boyfriend or relationship. Forget getting married by a certain age. Forget the expectations of you instilled by society. This boy was a bit messy, a bit ruined, but a beautiful disaster.

Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.

You take another second to look at him because what you want to say next will change your friendship.

“Kiss me,” you say softly, your gaze dropping to his lips.

“Are you sure you want me to kiss you?”

You nod.

If there’s one more thing to add to Jungkook’s list of fears—it’s ruining your friendship.

“I won’t be able to stop if I do,” he whispers.

Restless is how you would describe Jungkook. Restless when it came to telling your exes lies. Restless in his ability to sit still. Restless as he chews on his bottom lip–it could be how he incessantly licks his lips or just lacks hydration. You’ve never noticed before how badly he needs chapstick.

But Jungkook’s within touching distance of your lips, and all you can think about is how much he needs chapstick. Your sweet peach one, you think.

Maybe you should offer him some.

“Then don’t.”

It’s slow and gentle when he kisses you. He’s taking his time. There’s no urgency. No tongue, no hands beneath your shirt, or roaming your body. Nothing like that.

It’s like he’s been waiting so long to do this. It’s like he’s forgotten any other mouth existed but yours. You’ll forget your name or where you are when you finally break away from his lips.

He consumes every thought you have, and this is what you were afraid of–that you’ll become addicted to his kisses. You’re unsure how long you can stand before he has to carry you to bed.

His breath is warm and sweet. You love him breathing life into you and taking it away over and over. Your hands curl into his shirt, tugging him as close as possible. Tilting your head, you open your mouth to catch more air before kissing him again. Lips upon lips are discovering each other.

Jungkook pulls away, his nose nudging yours. He kisses the corner of your mouth and your cheek. He’s on his tippy toes, kissing your eyelids, then your forehead.

“Okay–don’t stop,” you say, breathless, reaching for another kiss. “It’s for scientific reasons.”

He chuckles. “Are you researching how long someone can go without breathing?”

“Mmhm.” You reach again, but he pulls back, making you pout.

“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, ‘Where does this leave us?’ he asks.

You realize he won’t kiss you until you answer him. You cock your head to the side. “I like you, but it will take a minute for me to trust you again.”

Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”

“So–we should take this slow and see where it goes.”

He sucks in his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “What about Namjoon?”

The two of you hear someone clearing their throat, and you look in their direction as they appear from the hallway. It’s Namjoon, giving you a quick wave.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says as he walks to his door. “I saw you guys when I turned the corner, but then I ducked back into the hallway, waiting for you to…finish.” Namjoon presses his lips together into a smile.

You turn to Jungkook. “I’ll be one second.”

With a sprint in your step, you head toward Namjoon. “I’m so sorry you saw that.”

Namjoon laughs. “Why are you sorry? I knew I didn’t have a chance against Jungkook. I was waiting for you to realize you wanted to be with him.”

Your eyes widened. “You knew?”

His eyebrows raise, and he nods. “Mmhm.” He leans forward. “We had fun, but look at the guy.” Namjoon glances at Jungkook. “I would’ve felt like the back-up until you two got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about me. Go–he’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks Namjoon.” A sense of relief rushes over you, and you’re thankful he understands.

Returning to Jungkook, you’re no longer looking at your back-up plan. He’s the one you want to wake up next to, the one you want to laugh with, smile with–he’s become your first choice.

He extends his hand for yours. “So, should I get my tux pressed?”

You deadpan.

“We’re practically engaged now, right?” he jokes before leaning in for a kiss.

You press your finger into his taut chest, pushing him away. “Be fucking for real, Jungkook. We’re going inside and watching my favorite rom-com–While You Were Sleeping, so you can see the consequences of how lying gets you in trouble.”

“Oh, I love that one! It's the one where she pretends to be engaged to the guy in a coma, but she falls for the brother?”

You slowly turn to him, mouth agape. “You really have seen a lot of rom-coms, haven’t you?”

“I may have learned a thing or two from them.”

“Yeah–lying!” You scold him as you enter the apartment. The two of you continue bickering back and forth.

Who knew you’d be living in a romantic film of your own?

[embarrasingmf]

₊˚ෆ | old wishes | S.B (3)

SUMMARY: Ben decides to look some stuff up on Hughie’s laptop, finding how different certain videos are nowadays.

WORD COUNT: 900.

WARNINGS: not proofread, suggestive / 18+, mention of porn bc its ben and someone suggested this idea, use of Y/N, swearing.

A/N: SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, I WENT TO THE HOSPITAL OVER THE WEEKEND N I’VE BEEN SUPER BUSY W COLLEGE😣 new theme so that means new text color!

part one! | part two! | part four!

After wrapping up a mission with Butcher and everyone else, you tiredly trudged into the little office hideout.

You made a beeline for the worn out couch sitting by a big window overviewing the city, plopping down onto it with a weary sigh.

Leaning your head back and closing your eyes, it didn’t even take a minute until someone ran up to you.

“Y/N! You gotta help me-“ Hughie said in a worried tone.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, and he must’ve seen your annoyance because he mumbled an apology.

“What is it?” You questioned with a grumble.

“It’s Ben.” Hughie said simply. “He stole my computer to uh, ‘research some stuff’ as he said.”

You scoffed, waving a hand dimissively to brush him off. “He’s probably tryin’ to figure out how your laptop works more.”

“I would think that too!” He quickly defended.

“If I didn’t hear noises coming from his room later…” Hughie added as an afterthought.

That got your attention, and you immediately shot up.

“What?! He stole your laptop to look that shit up?!” You exclaimed, immediately knowing what Ben was talking about.

Hughie nodded, “yeah. So I was wondering if you could get my—“

He didn’t even have time to finish his sentence before you got up from the couch and stormed off to Ben’s room.

—————————————————————————

You prepared yourself for the sight of Ben possibly getting himself off while watching some porn video he had found on the web when you barged into his room.

…but you didn’t find that.

You found Ben leaned back against the headboard of his rather tiny twin size bed that barely fit him, an irritated expression on his face.

“Ben. What are you doing?” He immediately perked up hearing your voice at his doorway, his eyebrows raising.

“Oh thank fuck you’re here. I need someone to complain to. C’mere.” Ben motioned to the side of the bed, and you reluctantly walked over to be greeted by the sight of two people going at it like animals.

“I mean, I knew porn changed over the years, but I didn’t think it changed this much.” Ben complained with a groan, gesturing to the screen.

You uncomfortably nodded, looking back at Ben.

“Why don’t you give this back to Hughie? He needs it.” You reached out for the laptop, but Ben snatched it away.

“Hell no. Not ‘till I’m done complaining.”

You sighed, shoulders sagging as you knew you wouldn’t be able to convince him. You snapped a hand in his direction in gesture for him to go on with his ranting.

“First off, this girl is moaning so fuckin’ loud. Back then, the moans were natural, y’know what I’m saying?” Ben flashed you a cheek smirk.

“And these things they’re doing are weird as hell. I’ve seen this one guy spit into the other girls mouth.” Ben huffed.

“It was kinda hot,” He added. “But still weird as hell!”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Okay I get it, now can I bring Hughie his laptop back?”

“Nope! Not until I find a good one.” Ben chuckled as he returned to the homepage of the site and started scrolling.

“Ben—“ You tried to protest, but Ben held up a finger to shut you up; which worked, pathetic as it sounds.

—————————————————————————

You awkwardly sat in some chair you pulled up next to Ben while he watched a few videos before making a comment about how bad or weird they were before continuing on his quest for a good video.

Within those minutes, you tried to convince Ben to give you the laptop so you could return it to its rightful owner; all which fell on deaf ears.

It wasn’t until you got an idea — a slightly evil idea — that you started to lose hope.

Said idea was to lie to Ben and tell him that if he continued to use that site, that he’d give Hughie’s laptop a virus and it wouldn’t be able to be used anymore.

“Hey, Ben.” You said, easily getting his attention.

“I think you should really get off that site, you might give his laptop a virus.”

“A virus?” Ben tilted his head to the side like some cat or dog. “Like it’ll get sick?”

“No, Ben.” You sighed at his obliviousness. “Like Hughie won’t be able to use it anymore.”

Ben’s face fell.

“You mean I won’t be able to look stuff up on that bitch’s computer?” He asked incredulously.

You shook your head, holding back a laugh at his shock.

“Nope. You can’t use Hughie’s computer anymore if that happens.”

Ben scoffed, as if the idea was stupid, and closed the tab before handing the laptop to you.

You grabbed the laptop and watched him cross his arms, chuckling under your breath.

“Well I’m gonna go give this back to Hughie, okay?” Ben nodded.

You quickly walked out and located Hughie, holding out the laptop for him.

“Thanks, Y/N! but how did you get him to give it up?” Hughie couldn’t help but be curious.

“I may or may not have told a little white lie about how you’d get a virus on your computer and it’d be unuseable in the future.” You explained with a grin.

Hughie let out a laugh, shaking his head. “And I’m guessing he didn’t even get suspicious about it?”

“Nope.”

—————————————————————————

feedback n reblogs r appreciated! :3

[educatedsimps]

Aww I can't get over how amazing this blog is. Your fics are incredible, you're all so talented 🫶🏻 May I please request a Kenma x fem reader fic where we're married and have a little boy together who's like Kenma's double? I'm a sucker for cute domestic fluff and I just think you'd write husband and dad!Kenma perfectly. I hope that request is alright. Thank you so much! I hope you all have a lovely day ❤️

≪ back to fics masterlist

kozume kenma x f!reader

a/n: hi anonn thank you for sending in a request and we're so glad you like our works! i'm a sucker for cute domestic fluff too so i was pretty excited writing this request hehe, HOPE YOU LIKE IT :)

cw: domestic freaking fluff, reader's called mom, a lil surprise at the end

"Kaito! Time's up!" Your voice echoed down the hallway of your penthouse.

Sighing, you padded over to the game room with half a mind to throw the PS5 away for good. Giving the door two solid knocks, you opened the door to reveal your husband and son in the middle of a video game.

Kenma and Kaito were seated next to each other in their gaming chairs with their house slippers on the floor. With sock-clad feet, both of them had one leg tucked under them while the other leg was propped up on the armrest. They even wore matching Kodzuken hoodies and had the same hunch in their backs.

Kaito's cat-like eyes were laser focused on the screens in front of him (he got it from his dad), darting from point to point every second while his thumbs flew across the console in his hands. His concentration was unmatched and his avatar seemed to be holding up pretty well. Kenma, on the other hand, didn't have the same level of focus as his eight year old son - this level of the game was nothing to him.

Noticing your presence, your husband's gaze met yours and a small smile appeared on his face. The clacking of the console in his hands continued as he spoke, "Hey, babe, we're just finishing up the game."

"I'll be right there, Ma," came your son's monotone reply. You raised an eyebrow.

The clacking of the consoles continued and sound effects from the on-screen battle intensified.

"Kaito."

"Just ten more minutes, please? We're in the middle of a game- SHIT, DAD, HELP ME-"

"Kozume Kaito."

Kenma's eyes flitted over to you once again. Seeing your figure by the doorway with your arms crossed and eyes narrowed at the two of them, he chuckled knowingly before discreetly winking at you. You hummed in response.

So cute, Kenma thought.

Within seconds, he had absolutely destroyed their opponents and a congratulatory message popped up onscreen with confetti in the background. Kaito's eyes widened and he looked at his dad in awe. With matching smirks on their faces, Kenma and his little clone exchanged a swift handshake before your son hopped out of his chair and made his way towards you.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked at him expectantly. With a sheepish look on his face, he mumbled, "I know. School night. Sorry, Ma, I got carried away."

"I know you wanna be as amazing as your old man one day, but you still gotta get through school first, got it? After that, you can do whatever you wanna do. Now, listen to your mom, go brush your teeth and then it's straight to bed, okay?" came Kenma's voice. You nodded in agreement.

"Okay. Goodnight, dad," Kaito replied, sighing heavily. Approaching the door, he tiptoed to plant a kiss on your cheek and greeted you goodnight. You ruffled his hair in response.

Bending down, he placed a kiss on your baby bump and whispered, "G'night, lil sis. Once you're born, I'll play games with you till midnight everyday. I promise."

You watched as he shuffled off to the bathroom to do his business and you felt Kenma's warm hands wrap gently around your torso. The digital clock on the wall read 10:32pm. Rubbing your belly, your husband buried his face in the side of your neck.

The penthouse was now quiet except for the running of the faucet and the muffled sounds of Kaito brushing his teeth. Placing a hand over Kenma's, you stood there in silence for a while, soaking in the peacefulness.

The aggressive honk of a car on the streets below jolted you out of your thoughts.

"Babe, what time's your zoom meeting with the Russian investors?"

"Uh... 11pm," Kenma mumbled.

"Then you need to go get ready for it," You urged, lightly nudging his lean body off of you.

Kenma's phone buzzed in his pocket. Checking his notifications, he sighed, "Yeah, you're right. Yaku's already pestering me about it. He's not even the one presenting, he's just helping me translate stuff, but he seems more nervous than me."

Giggling, you gave him a peck on the lips before waddling over to the kitchen. "I'll have some instant ramen ready for you once you're done with it, okay?"

Kenma hummed, "Thanks, sunshine. I'll let you know once I'm done with the meeting. I love you."

"I love you too!" You called from down the hallway.

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down (likes and reblogs are appreciated)

[saturnville]

ii hands ii heaven, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x she (black!fem!reader) warning: suggested sexual situations content: in which two newlyweds bask in the essence of one another. an: don't ask me what I know about LH44, I'm not gonna front and act like I know this man like the back of my hand. I saw some videos, watched some interviews, read some fics, and now we're here. just know I wanted to write & I pictured him for this fic lol. hope y'all enjoy

Soft mewls flowed from her parted lips like a waterfall. Her noises dove and crashed into the deepest oceans of their devotion. The intimacy of the moment was deep. They welcomed themselves to drown in it, leaving air at the surface and choosing to inhale the breath of adoration the other exuded. 

With the soft light of dawn peering through the curtains, their bodies wove together like yarn, knotted together and unable to be untangled. As he whispered sweet sentiments against the shell of her ear, the remnants of the outside world faded away.

The desperation for one another flowed between them like lava, further igniting their passion and desire. They moved together in a unified harmony, exploring all the other had to offer. Tender affection and unrestrained passion were their portion. Each fiery touch, each delicate kiss was an unspoken promise of the depth of their love. 

When the heat of passion began to cool, they stayed wrapped in the warm embrace of one another; damp bodies pressed against each other like glue. On their lips were smiles fueled by dopamine. Low eyes filled with adoration. 

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his breath warm against her lips. She giggled like a lovesick teenager and whispered back, bringing her trembling hand to his face, drumming her finger over his bitten and swollen lips. “Let’s get ready, yeah?” 

She nodded slowly, her face lifting against the pillow as her head moved. She sat up slowly, her wince falling on the ears of her lover. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her and swept her off the warm bed. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Baby!” 

He hummed softly and placed her on her feet. His tattooed arm opened the shower door and turned the handle. He waited for the water to warm before ushering her into the shore with a tap against her bottom. She scolded him playfully, “Hands to yourself.” 

“I’ll try my best.” 

What was intended to be a quick cleanse turned into a thirty-minute shower with heavy droplets against their bodies as she was pressed against the glass, heaving as the humidity invaded her throat. Goodness, they’d be so late. 

They couldn’t keep themselves off of each other. His zipping the back of her dress led to his fingers brushing her hair off her neck and tracing the placement of her dark locks with his lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her hands gripped the edge of the counter. He would be the death of her. 

Her tongue darted out and slid over her swollen bottom lip. His hands began to wander over the perfectly fitted dress. It was the prettiest emerald green shade and complimented her skin's richness wonderfully. Every curve, riff, and ridge was accentuated. She looked beautiful. 

“Okay, okay,” she whimpered, pressing her hands against his thigh. “We gotta go, baby, we gotta go.” She turned in his arms and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. His chest, decorated with tattoos and the finest of jewelry. 

“You look stunning,” he whispered, caressing her waist. “So pretty.”

She smiled bubbly and pecked his lips, “Thank you kindly.” Her hands smoothed out the thick linen of his suit jacket, the bling from her rings catching his eye. His heart leaped at the sight.  

He hummed lowly and squeezed her bottom, smirking when his fingers caught the dampness between her legs. She gave him a look. He gave one back. “Mhm. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker we get back. Let’s go, Mrs. Hamilton.” 

“That’ll never get old,” she said, reaching behind to swipe her purse off the counter. 

Her husband smiled softly and led her out of their shared bedroom. With a light kiss against her temple, he said, “It’s not supposed to. Let’s get out of here.” As they prepared to depart, the intimacy lingered like the sweetness of her fragrance., 

With whispered words, playful touches, and gentle kisses, they prepared themselves for what the outside world had to offer. Heaven.

[stardewstardropthoughts]

ahh imagine the bachelors when you’re pregnant talking to your belly to get the baby to calm down at night. like the baby likes to keep you awake at night by kicking you directly in the ribs and the only thing that works is your husbands voice.

I think shane would feel super awkward at first since hes not much of a talker anyway, but it becomes a cherished nightly routine for him in the last few weeks of your pregnancy “hello, papa shane reporting for duty, its time to chill out so your mother can get some sleep” and tell it chicken stories, elliott would read poetry and shakesphere, Alex would probably talk sports to it.

I would LOVE to hear your headcanons

Deadass sleeping while pregnant is so hard, and when the tiny child your growing rolls they’re whole body while your trying to sleep? It feels so weird 😂 also listen I know Skyrim isn’t in Stardew but I love it and I know Sebastian would also, lemme have this lmao

The bachelors talking to your baby bump to calm down your unborn child so you can sleep

Harvey:

Probably a bit nervous at first because he isn’t sure what to say

But when your having issues sleeping because your unborn child keeps kicking you as hard as they can he agrees to give it a shot

Gently lays his head on your bump

“Hey there little one, your moms out here trying her best to grow you and she needs to sleep to do that, think you might be able to settle down a bit?”

Is surprised when his voice seems to calm the unborn child down

Very quickly becomes his favorite part of the nightly routine

“Well hello in there tiny one, thank you for tuning into the nightly talk show. Today we’re gonna learn about you! That’s right, tonight’s broadcast is all about your growth”

Your giggling at his little radio show impersonation

Alex:

Ya know those TikTok videos of people doing little handshakes with their wife’s pregnant bellies and then when the baby’s born? He’s doing that, just wanted to add in that tid bit lol

He probably noticed you were having issues sleeping and he could see all the wild movements from the outside

Leans down and starts talking to the bump

“Hey kiddo, I know your doing your own thing in there but momma needs to sleep, whatcha need?”

When you tell him the baby calmed down after hearing his voice he’s thrilled

Will 100% explain the rules of gridby in depth to your unborn child

“Okay so if you wanna grow up big and strong like your daddy, your gonna have to have proper nutrition, lucky for you I have years experience”

Spends almost every night at bedtime telling your unborn child all about the farm and gridby and of-course rusty the dog

Sam:

Mans been talking to your baby way before they could hear or acknowledge him

He’s just so excited

“Hey little guy, mommy’s trying to sleep so we gotta calm down, I know you wanna shred but once your out I’ll teach ya to skateboard”

Definitely goes over skateboarding safety with your unborn child

“Sam he’s not even born yet”

“Okay but he’s gotta know how to grind the pipe baby, it’s a great skill”

100% also going to blow a raspberry on your bump to startle the baby cause it’s funny

Shane:

Dude definitely chats with your baby bump all the time

Especially when your cuddling so mostly at night when y’all are going to bed

Probably the reason the infant can’t stop kicking you without hearing from daddy first

“Hey kiddo, you’ll never guess what kinda antics the chickens got up to today, I can’t wait to introduce you to Charlie”

Definitely brought Charlie in the house once and put him on your bump

“Hey kiddo, this is Charlie, he’s my favorite chicken but don’t tell the others that”

You gently pat Charlie’s head while he looks very confused about the situati

Sebastian:

Mans fully prepared to teach your kid all about video games when Theyer old enough

But when they won’t stop kicking you at night unless he talks to them? Now they get to learn early

“So in Skyrim right? There’s a whole character builder and you get to pick what race you want to be, I always go for dark elf personally but you can be whatever you want”

It’s like two hours later, your asleep and he’s still going

“So when you get to white run you have to find the jarl and tell him about the dragons attacking helgen so he’ll send troops to riverwood and then there’s a whole side mission to go on to get the dragon stone and-“

Notices your soft snoring and chuckles to himself silently

“Okay kiddo, we’ll pick this up again tomorrow night, good night my little tadpole, love you”

Presses a little kiss to your bump before going to sleep

Elliott:

This mans been reading poems and story’s to your bump since he learned that baby’s can hear and recognize voices

It’s a nice little nightly routine, after baths and pjs and whatever snack your craving you both settle in and he grabs a book

Tonight’s book selection is the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe

“Alright little one, it’s story time”

Cozy’s up with his head on your bump

“Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore”

Loves knowing he can sooth the baby even before They’re born yet

Also loves knowing he can provide a bit more comfort to you as you grow them

[mossyivy]

I just finished seeing this tik tok, and an idea popped into my mind…☹️

One day you’re looking through your closet, just organizing and throwing out old things you and Leon don’t really need anymore. There’s a pretty large box tucked under a pile of dust, reluctantly opening it hoping to not find some dead spider or something.

Opening the box, you find so many recordings, cameras, photos, photo books, Polaroids, just filled of you, Leon, and your kiddos. You couldn’t help but get a bit emotional, remembering the time when Violet could barely even walk…Her adorable little baby cheeks, cute and silly poses she’d do.

Now she was all grown up, barely even wanting to take pictures because it was ‘embarrassing’. You’d find a couple of Cecilia as well, not many for Scottie thanks to modern technology and everything being on phone now. It hurt your heart a little bit seeing everything. Videos on old dusty cameras of them running around in the yard while Leon chased them, picking little Violet up in his arms and smothering her with kisses as she erupted into her sweet giggles.

You’d look through all of those for hours, getting a bit teary eyed as you found old pictures of you and Leon together. When the two of you were still young and could do anything without kids, pictures of when he took you to the paramore concerts.

You were grateful for being able to watch your kids grow up; you really were. But sometimes you wished you could just turn back the clock, hold them one last time before they ultimately decided they didn’t wanna be held by mommy anymore.

Let’s just say, Leon found you sniffling in the closet and you rambled to him for what felt like hours. But he just held you and listened, pressing kissed to the top of your head. Like a good husband does.

- Anon! 🎀

(Live reaction of me tearing up over these fake children growing up... 🎀Anon it's your fault!!!!)

Leon would rub your back, sitting on the floor of the closet as he held you close. You stare down at the old picture from the day Cecilia was born. You remember it so vividly...

Leon coming back into the hospital room with Violet as she excitedly ran over to you holding baby Cecilia, barely an even hour old yet. Leon picked her up and sat her up next to you in bed so she could see her baby sister closer.

"She's got your eyes mommy, just like me!" She squeals, kicking her feet as she moved in closer to your side, cuddling up to you nicely. The flash hit your eyes as you look up, watching Leon take a picture of the moment, wiping his eyes as he sniffed and joined you to greet your baby girl into the world...

"I just want our babies to be babies again..." You take in a shaky breath as you put the picture back and slide the lid back on.

"Sweetheart, they're still our babies. Just bigger."

"I know..." You look up at him, blinking the tears down your cheeks, you can even see he's starting to get a little choked up.

"Violet doesn't even like being seen with us half the time... She's almost 14. Lia's going into middle school in a few months and Scott... He's gonna be talking soon... Why can't they just stay small?" Leon chuckles, smiling affectionately as he kisses your head and helps you up.

"I know. They grew up too fast. But we gotta let it happen."

"Says the man that sobbed when his oldest stopped calling him daddy."

"I know I'm a hypocrite, you don't have to rub it in." He leans in kissing your forehead and rubbing your arms. "C'mon, come spend time with the kids at the dinner table while I finish cooking dinner."

You nod following him out of your room and downstairs, rubbing your eyes as you walk into the kitchen. Violet sitting at the table blasting music over her bright pink headphones while staring at her phone as Lia finishing up a project from her girl scout meeting. Scott makes grabby hands at you from his highchair. You walk over, scooping him up as you look at your two girls, years older now.

Violet with her hair under a black beanie and no longer in pigtails or ribbons and Lia not carrying around her stuffed animals around. Just a cute little bunny bag across herself. You walk over pulling Lia into your side as you lean into Violet giving them both repeated kisses on their heads. Lia squeals as Violet pushes her headphones around her neck. Trying to pull away.

"I love you both, remember that. You'll always be my babies even after you grow up and move out. Even if you're 80 you'll still be babies... Okay?" Violet looks over as Lia just nods squirming out of your hold. You start tearing up again.

"Oh God...." Violet looks over at Leon noticing his own red eyes and nose as he lowers the temperature on the stove.

"Is someone dying? Are you getting a divorce!?" She looks panicked as Leon turns almost snapping his neck in the process.

"No! Violetta, why would you even assume that!?"

"I- I don't know you're both crying!" You chuckle, putting Scott back in his highchair as you hug your oldest.

"No sweetheart everythings fine, mommy's just emotional and you know how your father is."

"A big baby." Lia giggles, smiling as Leon gives her the stink eye from the stove.

"I'll remember that after dinner. No dessert for you."

"Nooo! Daddy please!" Lia shoots out of her chair as Leon turns away pretending not to hear her as she pulls at his shirt. You look at Violet, sniffing again. You cup her face, squeezing her cheeks like you use to when she was little.

"You're just as adorable as when you were 4..."

"That's not creepy at all." Her usual sarcasm, even that's cute at times...

"Can I hold you... Just for a minute please?" Violet looks at her mother, seeing the red in her glassy eyes.

"Yeah... Sure."

[starkandthewaynes]

Ghosts from the past Chapter 4

Jazz blushes as Danny's harsh language. "Jason?" Bruce asks as Jazz fiddles with her hair for a moment. "Danny is Jason's biological little brother." Jazz starts as she takes a deep breath. "Danny got adopted by my parents, the Fenton's, at age four, when Danny was 14, my parents built a portal into another dimension called the ghost zone, cause they're ghost hunters. However it, it didn't work. So Danny, being the brilliant idiot he is, walked into it. The portal turned him half ghost. A year later he decided to tell the Fentons." Jazz says as everything falls out of her mouth. "They, god, they nearly killed him all the way. Even told the GIW, the government's secret ghost ward, that under the echo acts can do whatever they need to do to Ecto-Entities. When I was on a weekend visit I figured it out and got Danny out of there, and then the god of time de-aged Danny to protect him and we moved to Gotham." Jazz says, tears falling down her cheeks. "But why is this legal?" Tim asks as jazz wipes her face. "The anti-Ecto Acts, they say ghosts aren't sentient beings, that they're just leftover human emotion mixed with ectoplasm, but that's simply not true. They have their own dimension, their own laws, and ruler, and they are sentient beings." Jazz says as the bats and birds seem to get angry on the two new friends' behalf. "Jazz, in order to take this to the justice league, I need to meet this ruler and have a sit down with them, so we can begin diplomatic proceedings," Bruce says as Jazz lets out a gargled laugh. "I just sent him away with your kid." Jazz says as Bruce nods. "I see, so, let me get this right, the government believes these ghosts aren't sentient and have thusly experimented on the ruler of another dimension." Bruce says as jazz nods "Yes, sir, that is correct." Jazz says as she hears Danny giggle. "And said ruler is a child." Bruce says as Jazz sucks in a breath. "That's where it gets complicated. While Danny may look like a four-year-old, in reality he is 16, ad sometimes he'll remember that, and other times he truly is a little child." Jazz says, as Bruce nods. "How old was he when they did their experimentations?" Bruce asks. "15, he had just turned 15." Jazz whispers, as someone hands her a tissue. "This is going to be a long process, Jasmine, but I promise, we will get you and Danny justice," Bruce says as Jazz starts full on crying now.

"Billy he's a kid!" Jon says as the four teenagers gather around the four-year-old. "I'm a King!" Danny says proudly as he yawns. "Yeah, yeah, king of the ghosts." Collin says, as they play video games. Danny was beating them at every game they played, how, no one knew, and Danny refused to tell them. "I'm bored." Danny whines after the 13 round of Mario kart. "I think it may be your bed time, Danny." Jason says in the doorway. "JJ!" The little one screams, as he runs towards his brother. "JJ, I not tiwed." Danny says as Jason picks him up. "Thank you guys for watching him for a bit." Jason says as the boys nods

"JJ, I 'on't want to go to bed!" Danny whines as Jason carries downstairs to Jazz. "Jazz!" Danny says, as Jazz smiles. "Danny, you should be asleep." Jazz says, making Danny frown. "Noooo!" He whines, wiggling until Jason lets him go. "Gotta catch me first." Danny says, going invisible as Jazz groans. "Danny, no powers!" Jazz chastises as Tim looks down at his legs. "Danny?" He asks, as his shoes get tied together and he gets pushed into Jazz. "Sorry, Tim." Jazz says, righting the boy as she tries to follow Danny. "Mister danny, I have cookies." Alfred says,as the tired little boy shows himself besides Alfred. "Cookies?" Danny asks, as Jazz sighs. "Thank god for Alfred." Jazz whispers, making Jason laugh.

———————————————————————-

Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait! My grandfather passed right before Christmas and I got suspended from college, so I wasn’t really wanting to do anything. But I’m doing better now and so I’m trying to write some more! Sorry this one’s short

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Tag list:

@ashenfairytale @blacksea21090

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @eroticaplush, @eclecticwildflowers, @onedirectionlovers2014

Chapter 19

warnings: swearing, heart attack, hospitals, screaming

AN: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t hate me. This is going to be a long one. Also inspiration taken from this video

The next morning, I woke up refreshed and to an empty bed. Dan was in the kitchen and I was scrolling through my phone. When I had tried to go keep him company, he shooed me back to bed. My friends had texted me asking if I wanted to go to the town carnival back in my college town. It was an hour away but I hadn’t seen them in so long. I bit my lip and my eyes flickered to the doorway. I knew Dan would push me to go but I didn’t know how Abbie would take me wanting another day off.

“breakfast is served.” Dan said as he walked back in the room with a tray. “Bon appetite.” Kissing me softly, he propped the tray on the bed and climbed back in next to me.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” I said as I looked over the food he had made. Dan kissed me again.

“I wanted to.” He whispered against my lips. I nodded and smiled at him, cupping his cheek and gently running my fingers through his beard. “After all you did yesterday, I want to.”

“thank you.” I whispered. Dan kissed me again, humming happily before pulling away. He rubbed his chest absentmindedly before digging in with me. “You ok?” I asked, my eyes on his chest where he had pressed his fingers into the flesh.

“hmmm? Oh yeah. Just feels like my heart is racing.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him as he waved me off. “It’s fine. Happens from time to time. Especially around you.” I blushed and shook my head.

“Charmer.” I gently shoved him as we continued to eat. “So my friends want me to drive over to our old college town for a carnival today…”

“Do it.” Dan cut me off. “Whatever excuse you were going to make to not go, drop it. Go have fun.” He reached over and grabbed my phone. I watched as he texted Abbie and then my friends. “There. Done. Go have fun. I’ll be ok.” I laughed before leaning over to kiss him.

“I know you’ll be ok.” I chuckled. “Oh shit. I gotta get dressed and packed and…” Dan kissed me again before shoving me out of bed gently.

“go.” He laughed. I leaned back over and kissed him deeply.

“have I told you lately how much I love you?” I whispered. Dan pecked my lips before giving me another gentle shove.

“yes. Now go. Do what you have to.” I rushed around the room, getting dressed in my spare clothes and grabbing what I needed for the day out with my friends. Kissing Dan goodbye at the door, I headed down to my car. On the way, I called my friends and we agreed where to meet up. An hour later, I reached the apartment building my friends lived in.

“(Y/N)!” Angie yelled as she ran out the door. She practically tackled me as I got out of the car.

“oh god Angie.” I laughed as I hugged her back. I smiled over her shoulder at Bill, Kevin, and Jackie. “Hi guys.” I said as Angie pulled back only to hug me tightly again.

“We haven’t seen you in so long.” Angie complained when she finally did pull away. “What’s got you so busy up in the big city?” She linked arms with me and we walked up to the building.

“well I got that job at the courthouse. Keeps me busy most nights.” I laughed. “And…” I drew it out as everyone started ‘oooo’ing.

“oh my god there’s a guy!” Jackie cheered. “Finally! I always knew you could get it.” She bumped my shoulder as I laughed and blushed.

“Is there a guy (Y/N/N)?” Kevin asked. I nodded.

“yeah there’s a guy.” I admitted. “We going up?” I asked, looking at everyone. Bill nodded and led the way up. “Alright. Here he is. Say what you will. I can take it.” I showed them the picture of Dan in the doorway. Angie and Jackie started to coo over it while bill and Kevin exchanged looks.

“you made him into a book tok boyfriend!” Jackie sighed before hugging me. Angie jokingly bowed down to me. “We’re not worthy.”

“exactly how much…older…is he?” Bill asked. I rolled my eyes with a smile. “What? I’m just protective of you. You know that.” I leaned over and gave bill a hug.

“I know. And I appreciate it. Really. But you don’t need to with this guy.” I assured him. “But uh yeah there’s a substantial age difference there.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“when you say substantial…” Kevin said. I blushed.

“uh yeah…” I started to play with the hem of my shirt. “I’ve been mistaken for…uh once his niece and uh…” I bit my lip. “His grandkid.” I muttered. Kevin’s eyebrows went up and bill nodded slowly. Angie and Jackie snickered next to me.

“so what? He your sugar daddy?” Angie asked. I turned bright red and turned towards her.

“no!” I exclaimed. “No!” I shook my head as Angie held her hands up. “He’s no one’s daddy. Sugar or otherwise.” I muttered. Jackie gave me a knowing wink and I turned even more red. “Ok screw it. If this is what it’s gonna be like, fuck you all. I’m going home.” I turned towards the door when two sets of hands grabbed me.

“oh no you don’t. You drove an hour down here to hang with us. We’re going to a carnival.” Kevin said sternly. I stared at them all.

“fine. Then my dating life is kept out of it.” The boys nodded. Angie and Jackie shrugged.

“you know we just like to take the piss. He sounds like a nice guy so whatever.” Jackie said. “He good in bed?” I threw my hands up and the boys covered their ears.

“for fuck sake.” I muttered as I sat down on the couch. “We going to the carnival or what?” Angie dangled her car keys at me.

“yeah. Let’s go.” We trailed back down to the basement where we got into Angie’s car. I took shotgun and texted Dan.

Me: got here ok. Friends r assholes like always. But we’re headed to the carnival. Try to keep u updated. Love u 😘

Dan: love u too 💕 have fun don’t worry about me.

I smiled at my phone before putting it back in my pocket. I looked out the window and noticed Jackie looking at me in the side mirror. I stuck my tongue out at her and she laughed. We pulled up to the carnival and got out.

“so where first?” Bill asked as he wrapped an arm around me and Angie. I elbowed him and he let go of me.

“roller coaster.” I said with a smile. Jackie raised a hand. “And we have a second!” Angie raised her hand as well. “And the adrenaline junkies have it!” Kevin laughed as bill shook his head. As the day went on, I took a bunch of pictures of me on rides or doing silly things to send to Dan. As the night went on, we got in line for the Ferris wheel.

“alright. Alright. Time for the annual tradition.” Bill jokingly grouched. The five of us walked over and got in line. Holding up my phone, I managed to get all of us into the frame.

“everyone say cheese!” I said as I took the picture. Jackie shoved me gently.

“sending that to lover boy?” She asked. I nodded with a smile.

“yep. And he has a name you know.” Kevin leaned his head on my shoulder and batted his eyes at me.

“he does?” He said. Bill laughed. “I thought lover boy was a good enough name for him.” I rolled my eyes.

“His name is Dan.” I said with a laugh. “Dan fielding. He’s a defense attorney. Now can we shut up about my love life?”

“look we’re sorry. We just…” bill started. “We’re protective of you. You know that. You’re last boyfriend…” I nodded.

“yeah. He was a grade a asshole.” I agreed. “But dans different. Trust me.” I scrolled up in the messages and handed bill my phone. Kevin looked over bills shoulder as he read through some of our texts. “We’ve had one argument. And it was over…uh…our intimate relationship. But we made up. Through communication and we haven’t stopped since.” Bill looked up at me and nodded before scrolling up again for the girls. They looked through them as well.

“he does seem like a nice guy.” Kevin admitted.

“we going to meet him?” Angie asked. I shrugged.

“I don’t know. He just met my folks and…” bill held up his hand.

“how’d that go?” He asked. I smiled. “Come on. We all know your dad. How’d it go?”

“well. They approve. Dan made a great impression.” I said as my smile grew.

“ok. Then when you’re ready to introduce us to him…”

“(Y/N)…” Angie said, looking up from my phone. I looked over at her. She looked worried and Jackie was giving me the look she only gave me when she was worried something would be too much for me. “It’s Dan…” I furrowed my eyebrows and took my phone back. Staring back at me was a text from Abbie.

Abbie: (Y/N) call me as soon as you get this. It’s Dan. He’s on his way to the hospital.

“oh my god.” I whispered, covering my mouth with my hand. Bill grabbed my arm and pulled me out of line, everyone else following as I called Abbie. “Abbie stone what the fuck is going on?” I asked, panic lacing my tone. Bill had already steered me towards the car while Angie dug her keys back out of her pocket.

“dans on his way to the hospital.” Abbie said. She sounded as worried as I was.

“yeah. That’s what you said in your text. What the fuck is going on?” My voice went up an octave and I could feel my heart racing.

“he…” she paused to talk to someone on her end. “He collapsed during court.”

“fuck.” I muttered as my legs gave out. “Abbie…” Kevin caught me and I looked up at everyone as they surrounded me. “Is he…will he be…” tears blurred my vision and Angie fell to her knees next to me to hug me.

“I’m sorry (Y/N). We don’t know.” The band snapped.

“you don’t know?! Don’t know?! Dan collapsed and you don’t know if he’s going to be okay?!” I cried. “Abbie…” my voice broke as a sob forced it’s way out.

“I’ll text you the hospital. How far away are you?” I took a shuddering breath and struggled back to my feet as bill wrapped his arm around my waist to keep me upright.

“an hour away.” I wiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand and started towards the car. Digging my keys out of my pocket, I handed them over to Kevin. “My friend is going to drive me. And say nothing about any traffic laws we break.” Kevin nodded and grabbed Jackie’s arm. They took off in the direction of Angie’s apartment building while Angie, bill and I piled into her car. Angie started the car and took off. “We’re on our way. Abbie…” my voice broke off again.

“(Y/N), I’m sure he’ll be ok.” I squeezed my eyes shut and took another shuddering breath.

“keep…” I breathed out. “Keep me posted.” Abbie confirmed she would and hung up. Bill put his hands over his ears and Angie turned up the radio. I put my head in my hands and screamed. Fresh tears fell as I beat my hands against the dash. “No! No! No! This can’t be happening!” Angie turned the radio back down and bill reached up to hold my shoulder. “Not Dan. Please for all that’s good not Dan.” Bill rubbed my arm as Angie drove, probably breaking several traffic laws as she did. When we reached the city, I had managed to put myself back together enough to get Angie to the hospital. When she parked, I was out of the door and running towards the entrance where I saw Olivia standing. She hugged me as I ran up to her and quickly ushered me inside. I saw gurgs and Abbie who also hugged me Angie and bill trailed behind me.

“(Y/N)…” I shook my head at Abbie.

“where is he?” I asked. Abbie shared a look with gurgs while Neil rubbed my back. “Abbie where is he?”

“surgery.” My eyes went wide and I felt my legs give out again. “(Y/N)…”

“what…” I breathed out as bill wrapped his arms around my waist to keep me up. He managed to get me over to the chairs and sat me down. “What…” I looked at everyone around me.

“he had a heart attack.” Gurgs said as she sat down next to me. “The doctors said it was from stress. Or a blocked artery. They wouldn’t know until they got in there.” I wiped my eyes and took a shuddering breath.

“bill…” I reached out for him and let him pull me up into a hug. “When did he go in?” I asked into bills shoulder. Gurgs rubbed my back while Abbie sat down.

“Half an hour ago. They said if we hadn’t called the ambulance right away it could have been…” I choked out a sob and pulled away to wipe my eyes.

“I should call my parents…” Angie shook her head.

“I’ll do it. You wait here and wait for him to come out. Then you are going to sit by his side so you’re the first thing he sees when he wakes up. Understood?” I nodded weakly at her. “He’s going to be alright (Y/N/N).” I nodded again as she hugged me tight and kissed my head.

“we uh contacted his parents as well.” Abbie said. I turned towards her, a confused look on my face.

“they’re dead.” I said. Abbie shook her head.

“They aren’t. But that’s for Dan to explain.” She said, with a small smile. “He told my dad the same thing. They’ll be here soon. They were taking the first flight out.” I nodded and hugged bill again while Angie made the call to my parents and everyone else sat waiting.

“it’s my fault.” I whispered. Bill shook his head.

“no it’s not. You couldnt have predicted this. You weren’t even there.” I shook my head and pulled back to look at him.

“I dommed him yesterday. Several times. And we had sex a lot more than just the times I was dom.” Bill nodded. “He’s older. His heart…” I broke off. “Bill, he was complaining of chest pain this morning. His heart racing. I should have done better. As his dom…” bill hugged me tightly.

“if he didn’t admit what it was straight out, there was nothing you could do. Except maybe force him to go to the doctor. There was no way you could have known.”

“but I could have stayed. I could have done just that. Made him go to the doctor.” I sobbed. Bill rubbed my back as I cried.

“(Y/N), believe me there is nothing you could have done. It happened and that’s that. Yes you could have stayed. Yes you could have forced him to go. But you’re here now. That’s what he needs. You here now. When he gets out of surgery, you’ll be there for him. And when he wakes up, he’s going to be so happy to see you. He’s not going to want you to cry over this. He’s going to want to hold you and kiss you and be sure that you both are here. Together. That’s what you’re going to give him. And you are going to be thankful that Angie is a speed demon with a license to drive.” He said with conviction. I nodded and wiped my eyes again.

“you’re right.” I said, laughing softly. “You’re right.” Just then a doctor came out and I turned to look.

“is there a (Y/N) (L/N) here?” I stepped forward, my hand slightly raised. “Mr. Fielding is just out of surgery. Everything went well. We’re putting him in a post op room right now and when he wakes up we’ll move him to a hospital room for the night.” I nodded.

“thank you.” I shook the doctors hand. “Can I…” I swallowed thickly and bill rubbed my back. “Can I go see him?” The doctor nodded with a small smile.

“follow me.” I nodded again and looked back over my shoulder at everyone.

“(Y/N) wait.” I paused. Abbie came over and pressed dans glasses into my hand. I nodded at her and followed behind the doctor with my arms wrapped around myself.

“what…” I cleared my throat. “What caused the heart attack?” I asked softly as we passed a few rooms.

“stress levels mostly. There was also a blocked artery. We put a stent in so he’s going to be down for a bit. No strenuous activity and such.” I nodded as we paused outside a room. “Here he is. Mr. Fielding will be heavily medicated when he wakes up. When he does, just push the button on the wall to alert the nurses.” I nodded as the doctor turned away.

“thank you!” I called after him before taking a deep breath and walking into the room. My breath hitched as I took in Dan surrounded by tubes and wires. I stifled a sob and pulled the chair over to the bed. Before I sat down, I leaned over to kiss dans forehead. “God I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. We shouldn’t have…” my voice broke. “I’m sorry Dan.” I leaned down to kiss his forehead again before reaching up to brush his hair back. It wasn’t pushed back like it normally was and I had to resist the urge to take a picture at how good he looked when he was disheveled. Sitting down, I reached for his hand. Squeezing it, I closed my eyes and tried to curb the tears that were threading to spill over again. “I love you so much.” I whispered as I leaned down to kiss his hand. Gathering myself, I took and deep breath and started looking for the bag with his belongings.

reaching under the hospital bed, I smiled softly as I found it. Putting it on the edge of the bed, I started going through it. I pocketed his phone and put on his jacket. Sniffling, I pulled out his shirt. It was cut along the buttons. Furrowing my eyebrows, I looked up at Dan still sleeping peacefully. I started to undo the buttons and threw the ruined shirt back in the bag. Taking the strip of fabric, I tied it around my wrist. I held tight to the ends and wiped my eyes with my other hand. His pants, shoes and belt were in the bag and seemed to be alright but I would double check when we got home. I closed the bag up and put it back under the bed. Grabbing dans hand with both of mine, I laid my head on his stomach and watched him. Abbie came in and I looked up.

“still sleeping?” I nodded and put my head back down. “Bill gave me a censored version of what you told him.” I snorted and squeezed dans hand. “It isn’t your fault.” Abbie assured me.

“sure feels like it.” I muttered. Dan shifted in his sleep and I kissed his hand. “Come back to me. Please.” I whispered. Abbie sat down across from me and we waited in silence. I was starting to drift off when Dan groaned. Sitting up, I clambered up to the side of the bed. “Come on Dan. Please.” I whispered again. He blinked and slowly woke up.

“hmmm. I’ve gotta be dead.” My eyes widened and I smiled despite myself.

“what? Why?” I asked. Dan smiled at me.

“I mean you’re kind of blurry but I’m fairly certain there’s an angel sitting in front of me.” Abbie chuckled and I blushed. I scooted closer to Dan and put his glasses on him.

“better?” I asked. He nodded as he hummed.

“yeah. I think…” he trailed off as he gently booped me. I bit back a laugh as he did. “I think you’re an angel.” Dan paused a bit. “Nah. You’re too cute to be an angel.” Abbie laughed and I looked over, finally laughing when I saw she was recording this. I wiped away my tears and smiled back at Dan.

“you think so?” I asked him. He nodded.

“yep. Definitely too cute to be an angel.” He picked my hand up and squeezed it. Chuckling, I squeezed his hand back.

“I’m going to blow your mind right now.” I whispered as I started to lean towards him. “You wanna know how?” Dan looked over towards Abbie and he looked adorably confused at her phone. I kissed his cheek and he turned towards me with a shocked expression on his face.

“the cute angel is kissing me!” He exclaimed. He looked at Abbie, happier than I’d ever seen him. I chuckled and blushed as I cupped his cheek. Leaning in, I kissed him properly. When I pulled away, Dans face was a mixture of shock and happiness. I rubbed his cheek as I started to cry.

“yeah.” I whispered, smiling at him despite myself. He leaned in for another kiss and I laughed as he cupped my cheeks. “Yeah.” I whispered when he pulled away. Dan leaned his head against mine and smiled.

“not dead?” He whispered. I shook my head, kissing his nose.

“not dead. I’m real Dan. I’m yours.” I whispered back. I heard shuffling as Abbie put her phone away and called for the nurse. I reluctantly pulled away and sat on the chair as one came in. Dan made a whining noise and I squeezed his hand. “It’s ok. I’m right here.” I used the back of my hand to wipe my cheeks before kissing his hand. Abbie answered most of the nurses questions before going off to find the doctor.

“my angel.” Dan whispered as he tugged my hand up to his chest and pressed my hand against his heart. His hands crossed on top of mine and I had to stifle a sob at the action.

“your angel.” I confirmed. Abbie smiled over at us before leaving to let the doctor in.

“good to see you awake mr. Fielding.” The doctor said, smiling at the position he found us in. I blushed and nodded at him. “Still a little out of it?” I nodded.

“fairly out of it.” I confirmed. “He thinks I’m an angel.”

“you are an angel.” Dan put in. I chuckled and patted his chest.

“whatever you say Dan.” I smiled at him. The doctor chuckled and wrote something on his board.

“it should wear off within the hour. If it doesn’t, call for a nurse.” He checked the board again and nodded to himself. “We’re gonna move him to a room for the night. Get you set up as well. I don’t think he’s going to let you go anywhere anytime soon.” I shook my head in agreement. I gently tugged my hand free and immediately captured one of his in mine.

“it’s ok. They’re just going to move you.” I promised. “I’m not going anywhere.” Dan nodded, never taking his eyes off me as they started to push the hospital bed out of the room and down a hallway. I walked alongside it, keeping my hold of dans hand. I only let go of his hand so they could do a quick check up on him and hook him up to some new wires. I sat down on the edge of his bed and smiled at him. Dan smiled back.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered. I smiled at him.

“thank you.” I let him pull my hand back to his chest. My smile fell and my eyes flickered to where he held my hand. “I’m sorry Dan. I’m so sorry. I know I should wait until you are less high to say it but I really am.” He squeezed my hand. My eyes flickered up to his and noticed they were clearer than they were back in post op.

“I’m not entirely clear headed but I’m close enough.” I smiled and leaned forward to hug him. “I’m so glad you are here. I thought I’d never see you again.” Dan pressed his nose into my hair and he took a shuddering breath.

“when Abbie called…” I pulled back slightly to see tears shining in his eyes. “I was scared. Very scared.” Dan nodded and used his thumb to wipe away some tears before drawing me back against him. “I’m so glad you’re still here.” Dan nodded above me.

“I am too. I love you so much. And do not think this is your fault. Not for one second. It isn’t.” Dan assured me. “Nothing we did yesterday caused this. Things like this happen at my age. It’s natural. And as much as we don’t want to discuss it, it’s a drawback of our relationship. But I’m here. I’m alright. And you’re here with me. So everything is going to be alright.” I nodded against him.

“whatever you say reinhold.” I said softly. Dan chuckled and pinched my side. I laughed and hugged him a little tighter.

“thank you for coming back.” He whispered.

“I’ll always come back to you.” I whispered back. Dan nodded as my phone went off. I checked it and texted Abbie the room number. “Everyone is being asked to leave and come back tomorrow. We’ll later today.” I said. Dan nodded. “If you’re tired, sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” Dan gave me a look. “Alright. Alright.” I laughed. “Just let me take care of a few things yeah?” He nodded and I made myself comfortable next to him. I texted bill and Angie to go to my apartment where Kevin and Jackie were waiting. Then asked them to bring a change of clothes for both me and dan the next day. I filled my parents in on what happened and assured them they didn’t need to come up but I’d let them know if that changed. “Abbie called your parents. They are flying up from New Orleans.” Dan nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry I lied.” He whispered. “When they get here, you’ll see. They’re…a bit much.” I nodded.

“I’m not happy you lied to me. But I also kind of get it.” I said softly, rubbing my thumb over his cheek. “I love you.” Dan leaned over and kissed me softly.

“I love you too.” I smiled at him before drifting off to sleep, my hand clasped tightly in his.

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

[miekasa]

I’m in love with the idea of twitch streamer bf eren

OKAY ME TOO!! Easily top 3 best Eren concepts imo it’s just so good and so... him, he falls on the gamer himbo boyfriend side of the scale for sure

Let’s start with his setup: purple and/or green with a dark wood tabletop. He keeps the lights green during the day or when his computer is idle, and mixes in the purple when it’s dark out because he likes the Ambiance. 

Only one monitor and do not let him buy another one no matter how much he claims he needs it. He does not. He has a TV in his room tho, but it’s not mounted above or near his desk; it’s on the opposite wall that faces his bed. Laying down and watching Netflix takes priority.  

He’s a sucker for themed keyboards/keycaps. If he finds a set themed around his favorite show or a character he likes, he’ll buy it. No self control.

The majority of his keyboards have that super clacky almost officey sounding click to them, and he’s obsessed with it. Sometimes he fucks around on Google Docs typing nonsense just to hear the keyboard make noise.

Puts in special keycaps on the ones with your initials on whichever keyboard he’s using at the moment <3 gamer boyfriend things <33

Always swears he wants to do some kind of special event or thank you for subscriber/follower milestones, but he never catches his own milestones 😭😭 by the time he realizes he has 100k subs, he’s already on 103k or something 

Then he calls you, his friends, and his subscribers fake for not pointing it out to him like sir it’s right there on your screen please. All you had to do was LOOK

If he’s in the middle of a game and he really has a to pee, or he’s gotta go do something, he’ll yell for you, and you come in, obviously slightly worried, but then Eren is just hurriedly giving you instructions, “Here, press left or right to move, spacebar to fire, avoid these, kill those. That ugly look thing to the left is Jean, and over there is his character. You’re teammates, I’ll be right back,” before he puts his headphones on your head and runs off. Now you’re left to fend for yourself, good luck.

He can be gone anywhere from 30 seconds to 30 minutes 😭😭 if he’s gone for a short amount of time, he comes back with just as much chaotic energy to take back his headphones and shoo you away as he did to throw it all on you pls.

Other times, he’ll go and make a whole ass meal and come back sauntering in with a half eaten grilled cheese in hand, “Oh shit are you still playing, babe—hey you’re doing really well, look at you go!”

When you’re not there, he mentions you a lot, because he’s always thinking about you no matter how small it is; even just the design of a character would prompt him to a make a comment, “I don’t think my girlfriend has ever played this, but I know she’d main this character.” 

Does he invite you to play a game he knows you’ve never played or are bad at with him on his stream, knowing full well he’s an ace at it and will crush you publicly? Absolutely. Without a doubt. 

There’s always a very shameless, not at all subtle shoutout to his Instagram in the middle of all his streams please, he’ll be playing a game and randomly it’s like, “Fire pic on Instagam by the way, go like that.” 

His comments are pretty respectful whenever you’re there or he mentions you; there’s a few cheeky randoms who like to make donations whenever you’re on the screen or say some inappropriate stuff, but Eren’s learned to just ignore it. It doesn’t make him happy, and he might tell people to chill if it’s excessive, but he won’t call out anything explicitly and make you uncomfortable while you’re there. 

Sometimes Connie will make a comment about how you’re hot, and that’s definitely something Eren will call out and bring attention to, more so to mock Connie than anything. 

At one point, his subscribers keep asking for more content with you (especially if you’re not there often/it’s been a while since people have seen a peek of you), to which Eren will pout because, “Hey, this is my Twitch-- now, look, you’ve gotten your Eren’s hot girlfriend privileges revoked for the week.”

Terrible at doing unboxing videos whenever he gets sent product because he just rips things open 😭😭 he’s too eager to do ASMR or gentle/detailed unboxing, he just wants to test out the new parts as soon as possible. 

Abuses his spinny gamer chair. Spins himself dizzy on it (yes, while he’s streaming and waiting for lobbies/things to load), spins you dizzy on it when you’re just trying to be comfy, spins the both of you dizzy when he’s trapped you on his lap. 

He’d be one of those lucky people who gets a cool single name user/ID. Like he gets just @eren or @jaeger/yeager, because his name is pretty unique, but I can totally see him going the typical fun gamer tag route. 

His content is anything from him streaming Overwatch and COD to terraforming his Animal Crossing island, he does not discriminate. One day you could get Eren calling Jean a fucking dumbass for not healing him, and the next day he’s doing his best impressions of Timmy and Tommy.

Do not put it past him to build you a whole ass PC setup if you express the slightest interest in one, even if it’s not solely for gaming/you wanna use it for work/school. He’ll do it. He’ll make his hyperfixating work for him. 

Plus then he’d get to give you one of his old keyboards and give you special keycaps with his initials and go on about how he’s officially got a gamer gf even if all you can do is press the spacebar <33 

[avalonsrealm]

the shadows of the trees appear (amidst the lantern light)

(welcome to a gawain and the green knight harringrove au!! title from the mummer’s dance by loreena mckennit)

“Steve, you don’t look good. Like, at all.”

Nancy’s brow furrows with concern as she takes in Steve’s appearance - disheveled, dark circles under his eyes, his usually perfectly styled hair flopping over into his face. Steve huffs.

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Robin chirps. She’s re-shelving movies, making her own little system so she can annoy customers. Steve thinks this month she’s going by color, rather than alphabetical order or genre. He doesn’t really know. Can’t really bring himself to care all that much.

He doesn’t miss the way Nancy is looking at her with a soft fondness in her eyes. She catches him looking and he turns the other way. She knows he won’t say anything.

“Thank you guys,” he huffs, primly, rolling his eyes so hard he thinks he might catch a glimpse of his brain inside his skull. “I hadn’t noticed, it’s very kind of you to point out.”

“Hey, man, we’re only trying to help you out,” Robin quips. “You haven’t done your hair, we gotta make sure you know.”

“Yeah, well -” Steve starts. His head is propped up on his hand and he can feel it starting to give way with each passing second, threatening imminent collapse. He hopes the potential smacking of his head against the table might knock whatever this is outta him. “I haven’t really been sleeping well.”

Nancy immediately fusses over him. She presses a cool hand to his forehead and says, “Are you feeling okay? You shouldn’t come into work if you’re sick Steve!”

Steve bats her hand away. His scowl is a little meaner than he intends it to be, but Nancy doesn’t look too offended. She’s made of stronger stuff.

 “I’m fine, Nance. Like I said, I just haven’t been sleeping well. It’s nothing, it’ll pass.”

Nancy doesn’t look convinced, and Steve sees Robin give an exaggerated shrug when Nancy looks her way. But Steve isn’t about to tell them that he’s been dreaming of the Upside Down. Or at least what he thinks is the Upside Down. ‘Cause it sure looks like the Upside Down, but as his dreams progress, they change, and he finds himself lost in a lush forest, with yellow sunlight filtering through the leaves, and old ruins all around him. He always has a feeling of being watched. Sometimes he thinks he hears a voice, whispering through the trees like the wind, speaking in some old language Steve doesn’t recognize.

A few times, he’s seen a silhouette through the trees. Every time he’s tried to get closer, he hears a sharp laugh and the figure moves away. He’s never managed to get close enough to see anything other than the piercing blue eyes that the figure turns on him before disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

He feels like he’s being tested. Taunted. 

He always wakes up feeling like he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, no matter how early he went to bed and how late he woke up.

One night he’d even tried getting so drunk he passed out on the couch in the hopes that he wouldn’t dream and that hadn’t worked. Weed hadn’t worked either. He doesn’t really know what else to do.

“-eve. Steve!”

Steve jolts upright, eyes flying open. Nancy really looks worried now. So does Robin, which means he really must look awful.

“Steve, man, you should go home,” Robin says. It must be bad, if she’s offering to cover the rest of his shift. Shit.

“At least try to get some sleep. You could try chamomile tea, that might help.” Nancy tries. It’s halfhearted and they both know it.

“Thanks, Nance, but I don’t think tea’s gonna cut it.”

Steve’s exhausted. Down to his bones, he’s exhausted. He clocks out and gives a halfhearted goodbye and trudges his way to the Beemer, peels out of the parking lot without so much as a glance back at Family Video. It only takes ten minutes to drive back to his big, empty house, though it feels like it takes longer. By the time he’s shed his work vest and shoes and made his way upstairs, his eyes are heavy and he can feel himself flagging. He prays that when he sleeps this time, that’s all he does. He prays that no dreams come.

He shouldn’t be surprised when they do come. He shouldn’t be surprised when he wakes, gasping, in a place that isn’t his room, on the forest floor instead of his own bed.

He’s never started in the forest before.

Sitting up, he lets himself look around for a few moments, taking in his surroundings. Trees bigger than any he’s ever seen tower above him, and that perpetual golden sunlight filters through the leaves to dapple the forest floor. Crows caw from high in the trees. When Steve peers through the trees, he finds that the forest in the distance is covered in fog.

It’s the same forest, he knows that much. He’s not sure how he knows, but the sheer Presence of the forest feels the same. But the fog is new. The sounds of the crows and the rustling of animals is new. Every other time he’s been here, it’s been silent, except for the voice and the laughter. Steve finds himself straining his ears to try and hear it.

He doesn’t hear anything.

Sighing, he stands and dusts himself off. He’s in the clothes he fell asleep in, his soft sweats and a t shirt that’s too big and full of holes, for a band he doesn’t even listen to. He’s completely barefoot, but he finds that when he stands, the leaves and twigs don’t hurt him.

“What the fuck am I even supposed to be doing here?” He mutters. A sudden, soft breeze whistles through the trees. It tugs at Steve’s shirt and hair, pulling him in the direction of the fog. Steve has a feeling that’s all the hint he’s going to get.

“Fucking of course.”

Steve mutters to himself the entire time he trudges through the forest, if only for the comfort of having some sort of noise. It’s eerily silent once he steps through the fog. Not even the voice is present this time, the laughing, melodious voice that speaks in a language that Steve doesn’t know, but understands the feeling of anyway.

And well. Steve doesn’t really know what to expect here. He’s never gotten any answers outta these dreams, only mindless wandering and a feeling like he’s safe here, safer in these woods that somehow connect to the Upside Down than he is anywhere fucking else.

He sure as hell doesn’t expect the ruins he usually finds himself in to have rebuilt themselves. His breath catches when he sees them, emerging from the fog like something straight out of one of Dustin’s fantasy movies. Steve sort of wishes he’d paid more attention to those. He might have some sort of idea of what to do now.

But the hero usually enters the castle no questions asked. Right?

The door is right there. It looks heavy, made of oak, it’s wrought iron hinges and handle like nothing Steve’s ever seen. It’s nestled in a stone archway, the same stone archway that stood strong even when the mansion itself had long since crumbled. The one that Steve never could make himself walk through.

But now -

Now it calls out to him. He feels it all the way in the marrow of his bones. That breeze blows past him again, the wind singing through the trees, tugging at his clothes once more, and hidden will o’ wisps that he hadn’t noticed before dance around the door itself.

So he goes. He’s never had much of a sense of self preservation. The curiosity outweighs anything else. These dreams have always been the same, unchanging - until today.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters, stepping forward toward the door. When his hand lights on the heavy handle, the wisps scatter, tickling his cheeks and tugging softly at his hair. Steve pushes at the door and without much effort, it swings forward, the hinges groaning as it does, revealing a grand entry hall. The ceiling towers above him, giving him the sense that this space is bigger on the inside than it appears to be on the outside. He feels small, here, but also so so big. There is a sense of comfort, and somehow, it seems so familiar.

It feels more like a home than his big, empty house in Hawkins, Indiana ever has.

Comforted, he steps forward, toward the grand staircase that splits off in two, leading up to a landing that marks the entrance of what Steve can only assume are long hallways with more rooms than he could count. He knows the basic layout of the mansion, has explored their ruins more times than he can remember - he knows that the house itself is built in a square U shape, around a courtyard that he’s only ever seen in disrepair. He’s always wanted to know what it would’ve looked like before.

So he follows his gut now, traces his steps through the first floor of the mansion, through what looks to be a dining area with a peculiar round table. Each of the thirteen seats are set for a feast, but no one sits there. There is no food, no smells coming from the kitchen. Steve runs a hand over the table and frowns when he sees no sign of dust either.

There have been no sounds from anywhere in the house, no signs of life other than the decor and the furnishings. The only sign that someone lives here is the chaise lounger that Steve passes on his way out of the house. There’s a soft, silken blanket draped over the lounger, and fur-lined pillows, and a book rests on top of it all, face down to keep the reader’s place. An actual fucking goblet sits on the ground, once full of wine but now empty.

The entire place feels frozen in time.

“Who lives here?” Steve wonders aloud, as he steps through a set of double doors left wide open and into the sprawling courtyard.

“I do,” comes a voice, an answer he wasn’t expecting. Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. A tall figure steps out from behind a rose bush, and when he steps into the golden light that streams into the courtyard, Steve’s breath catches in his throat for the second time in less than an hour. The man smirks slightly, as if he’d heard the stall in Steve’s inhale, and Steve’s ears burn. “These are my woods you’ve stumbled into, little deer. And my home.”

“I didn’t mean to ‘stumble into’ your woods,” Steve says, a little snappish. It’s not like he asked for these dreams, he never asked to run around in a strange forest instead of sleeping.

“I never said it was a bad thing, Steve.” The man grins. His golden curls fall into his face, the rest sweeping down over his shoulders. His blue eyes look like ice, and they’re piercing the way snow is in the sun. They notice everything, Steve can tell. The man is strong, broad shouldered, and sure, his movements confident and full of a grace that seems unnatural for any human to possess. He wears a soft, loose white tunic with delicate green and gold embroidery along the collar and the sleeves. The front is open, showing glimpses of a muscled, scarred chest.

“Wait, how do you -?” Steve starts.

“Know your name?” The stranger hums. When he speaks, his voice sounds the way cigarette smoke chased by a shot of his dad’s good whiskey feels. He sidles toward Steve, gaze unmoving from him. “I know a lot about you Steve. You wouldn’t be here, in my forest, in my home, if I didn’t want you here, Stevie.”

Steve can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, alright. Who even are you, anyway? You seem to know everything about me, and I know nothing about you, it’s only fair you tell me your name at least.”

Somehow, the man’s grin gets bigger. Now that he’s in full view, Steve sees that he has a fucking sword belted to his waist. This is insane.

“My name is Billy.”

Billy doesn’t seem inclined to give any more than that, so Steve takes it.

“Billy,” he repeats, a little incredulous. He kinda can’t believe this. This isn’t fucking normal.

“You don’t believe any of this,” Billy says. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Steve. Steve refuses to shrink under the intensity of his gaze. They call him King Steve for a reason.

“No, of course I don’t,” Steve says, his voice pitching embarrassingly high. Billy just chuckles. “Two weeks ago I wasn’t being dragged into a weird forest in my dreams! And this house has never been here before, and I’ve never seen another person here! I’ve barely even seen animals! What the fuck is this place?”

“This place is mine,” says Billy. Steve huffs, ready to argue, but he feels inclined to let Billy speak. “This realm is mine - only accessible to those who know how to find it. You’re here because I willed it. But also because of your heart.” He reaches out to tap Steve’s chest with two fingers.

“So this place really is real,” Steve breathes. Billy laughs, loud and raucous. Steve’s stomach shoots up between his lungs.

“Oh you think it’s just a dream, pretty boy? Nah, it’s all real,” Billy spreads his arms wide. “It’s just only happening to you when you’re asleep.” He levels Steve with a feral grin. “For the moment. See, I didn’t bring you here for no reason at all. I’ve decided to test you.”

“Excuse me?” Steve splutters, taking a step back. “I never wanted to be here in the first place, I sure as fuck don’t want to participate in some test made up by a guy who lives in a forest that isn’t real.”

Billy ignores him.

“I’ve seen you fight in the In Between,” he says cooly. His hand has dropped to the sword at his waist. “I can give you tools to protect those kids you fight for. I haven’t brought you here to hurt you, pretty boy.” His head tilts to the side. It reminds Steve of a cat. “There’s no point in that. No fun. I’m only here to measure the worth of your heart.”

Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. Somehow it’s more insane than what he’s been seeing. But -

“Wait, you know about the Upside Down?”

Billy laughs again. “The Upside Down, that’s what those kids of yours called it. I like that. Yes, I know about the Upside Down. I was there when it was made. It was never supposed to exist, but we should have expected it. As above, so below and all that,” Billy waves a hand dismissively. “We don’t have time for this. You’ll wake soon, I can’t keep you here forever.”

Steve feels like Billy wants to keep him here forever. He finds that the thought doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

“The test is simple,” Billy announces, as if it isn’t just the two of them standing in this open, empty courtyard. Maybe to Billy, they do have an audience, one that Steve certainly can’t see. He pulls the sword from his belt, places it point down against the cobblestones and rests his hands on the pommel. It leaves the sword leaning within Steve’s grasp. He could take it and escape.

“All you have to do is land a blow against me, pretty boy. And in a month’s time, you’ll be right back here, so I can return said blow. How’s that sound?”

“I think that sounds insane, and like I don’t have much of a choice.”

Billy’s expression darkens at that. Becomes unreadable. Steve finds himself stepping back again.

“You always have a choice here, Steve. If you want to walk out the door and leave, you can. You’ll wake up and never see this place again, and I’ll make sure you don’t remember it.”

Something like sadness flashes across the stranger’s face, before he schools it back to careful neutrality. Steve finds that sadness mirrored in his own gut at the thought of never seeing this place again. He makes his decision quickly.

“I’ll take that challenge, then,” he says. He feels brave the way he does when he’s facing down Demodogs in the Upside Down. Billy had said that he would give him tools to keep his friends safe if he did this. And it means he can come back here. He steps forward, his gaze unwavering the way Billy’s has been.

Billy whoops, throws his head back and cackles to the sky. “There we go, Stevie, that’s more like it. I knew there was a fuckin’ fire in you.” The sword in his hand clatters to the ground between them and Billy takes one, two, three steps back. The bushes and grasses of the garden rustle with that gentle wind, a wind that turns fierce as Steve bends to pick up the sword.

It’s not entirely unlike the spiked bat he’s grown so fond of. He gives the sword a few experimental swings, twirls it in his hands to test the weight of it. Billy hasn’t taken his eyes off him.

When Steve looks up at him, his brow furrows. Billy doesn’t have a weapon. He also seems to sense Steve’s question before he asks it.

“Not the point, Steve. The game is you land a blow, and I give one in return in a month. No questions either.”

So Steve shuts his mouth. His hands grip the pommel of the sword tightly, and he has to force himself to relax. Billy’s stood in the center of the circular courtyard, arms spread wide, completely relaxed.

This is just like fighting Demogorgons, Steve thinks. He steels himself.

And rushes forward.

The sword cuts through the air. Steve doesn’t even look at where he’s striking, he just lets instinct guide him.

He feels the resistance as sword meets flesh, meets bone, but still he follows through.

When he looks again, he’s horrified to find that he’s rent Billy’s head clean off his shoulders. He stumbles back, dropping the sword that drips crimson blood over the cobblestones.

And then Billy’s head laughs. His body bends to pick up his head by those golden curls, turning them red as blood drips from the open wound, down his arm and into his hair.

“Nice one, Stevie,” he croons. Steve feels like he might be sick. “See you soon.”

And with the sight of Billy’s hands holding his own grinning severed head, blood pouring from his neck, Steve wakes with a shout.

It’s dark out. The clock on his bedside table reads 3 AM. Steve’s hands clench, and he hisses at the feeling of thorns digging into the soft flesh of his right hand

Looking down, he finds that he’s holding a red red rose. Tied around the stem is a yellowed piece of parchment.

Scrawled on the parchment in neat, swirling writing, the deep green ink standing out from the page are three words.

Miss you already.

Steve finds himself wishing he were back in that forest.

[whiskeynwriting]

I Missed You

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) grinding/dry humping, praise kink, daddy kink (it should be expected at this point), vaginal sex, lil mix of rough ‘n soft sex, established relationship.

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A/N: flirty Jack to angry Jack and back to sweet Jack. A roller coaster of emotions accompanied by Agent Daddy Whiskey’s cock and tongue (they always make everything better).

Thank you to @sweetangel0069 for giving me the inspiration for this one 🥰

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“You look so cute like this.” You giggle, holding your face in your hands.

“Yeah?” he chuckles, “How do ya figure?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, mumbling as you grin. “I just love seeing you like this. You in your pjs, your hair a mess, all rolled up in bed. You just look so soft, so cuddly.”  You express, humming pleasantly to yourself.

He smiles at you, those tired eyes full of love. He’d been gone for more than a week, by far the longest you’d been apart since you’d gotten together. And while Jack always seemed like this big, macho man, you could tell it was bothering him, too. He video chatted with you every night he was away, telling you how much he loved and missed you, how he couldn’t wait to get back home.

“I wouldn’t exactly call these pajamas.” He chuckles, “More like an old t-shirt.”

You shrug again, “Same-same.”

“Yeah, well…” he sighs out, looking at the time. “I gotta go, sugar.

“Babe,” you pout, frowning through the screen. “What time will you be home again?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, honeybee.” He responds, his country voice syrupy-sweet. “Don’t worry, won’t be too much longer.”

And now, you wait, sitting all pretty for your daddy to come home. You were more than excited, even dolled yourself up a bit for him. Nothing too fancy, just made sure to look nice and have yourself put together. You also made sure the house was clean, chores were done; you didn’t want him to have to worry about anything when he got home. Jack was often exhausted when returning home from these business trips and considering this is the longest one he’s been on in the past year, you know he’s bound to be exhausted.

Just as you’re thinking this, you hear the doorknob jiggle. You immediately hop up off the couch and run toward the entryway, unlocking it and swinging it open for him. The second you see him, you’re wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in past the door and causing him to drop his luggage in the hall.

“Honey,” he says, his hands falling to your waist. “Let me get in the door.”

You pull back, frowning at him as he speaks. He looks up at you, then back at his things. He sighs out, leaving your embrace to walk back out into the hall. Your heart beats with nerves, a heavy feeling sinking low in your gut.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your voice soft and worried as you watch him grab his bags.

“Nothing.” He says, walking past you and into the bedroom.

You turn as he does it, your expression growing more somber by the minute. He didn’t even close the door behind him, so you do it instead, locking it for the night as your head swims with thought. You return to the couch, listening to him unpack in your shared bedroom. He’d closed the door behind him, something he rarely ever did.

“Jack?” you say, your voice quiet as you knock on the door. “Are you okay?”

He opens it abruptly, his brow a bit furrowed as he looks down at you.

“I’m fine.” he huffs out, “Can I just have some space?”

He then turns, going back to his open suitcase. He doesn’t normally speak to you like this, and you aren’t sure why he’s chosen to now. A few tears begin forming in your eyes, so you turn, walking into the living room and snuggling up on the couch.

Every now and then, he comes out of the room, only to grab water or a snack before returning to the bedroom and closing the door behind him. What’s gotten into him? Isn’t he happy to see you? He didn’t respond when you’d asked if he wanted to watch a movie, didn’t reply to your text when you asked him again what was wrong. He stays in there for hours by himself, not saying a word.

With your makeup now ruined, you head into the bedroom, intent on going into your bathroom to remove what’s left of it. He looks up at you as you enter, his brow furrowing again, but this time in concern. You don’t look at him, going directly to the bathroom but not shutting the door. Jack sits up on the bed as you do so, watching you begin to remove the rest of your makeup.

“Sugar,” he softly calls, noticing your smudged mascara. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you retort, your sadness now turning to anger. “Are you fucking serious?!”

You slam your makeup remover on the counter, dropping your washcloth as you storm into the room.

“You come home, shove me off of you, and go straight to our bedroom without saying a word. This is the longest you’ve ever been gone, and this is how you come home?! What the fuck?!”

“Look, I –”

“I don’t want to hear it! I was so excited to see you, and this is how you treat me?!”

You spin on your heels, striding back into your bathroom to grab your makeup remover and towel. Then, you go to the bed, picking up your pillow and storming out of the room. He follows you out, watching you set your things in the living room.

“What? You’re just gonna sleep out here now?” he asks, his arrogant and stubborn attitude leaking into his tone.

“Obviously you want to be alone, for whatever fucking reason, so yeah, I’m sleeping out here.” You snap, not bothering to look back at him.

“You’re being ridiculous.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’m being ridiculous?!” you shout, now turning to face him. “Why are you acting like this?!”

“It’s not my fault I just wanted to relax when I got home!” he shouts back, “Did you ever think I just wanted some time to myself?! Huh?!”

“Time to yourself?! You just had over a week to yourself!”

The two of you continue on, the fight going nowhere as the two of you fume before one another. He eventually storms off, slamming the door shut as he returns to the bed. You grab a blanket from the sitting chair, draping it over yourself as you get comfortable on the couch, well, as comfortable as you can.

You get through a movie and a half by yourself, the night only growing later, your headache growing with it. You’re a mixture of confusion and sadness and rage; what did you do to make him so angry with you? Just as you’re thinking this, you hear the door open, the soft click of the knob turning before Jack’s footsteps resound faintly on the wooden floor. He strolls over to you, stopping once he’s at the foot of the couch.

“Baby,” he whispers, “You up?”

“Yeah.” You respond flatly. “My headache made sure of that.”

He sighs, sounding tired and defeated. He slides his hands into his pajama pants pockets, glancing down at the floor.

“Can we talk?”

“What do you want, Jack?” you grumble, not really in the mood for more bickering.

He walks forward, sitting down next to your feet. He places a hand on your shin, curling his lower lip in as he thinks about what he wants to say.

“I’m sorry.” He eventually decides on, figuring it’s a good place to start.

You look over at him, ultimately shifting to sit up against the arm of the couch. Your puffy eyes stare back at him, meeting his big, sad, brown ones.

“Why did you get so mad at me?” you ask, still entirely pissed. “What the hell did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything.” He responds, sighing out once again. “I just, I just had a rough trip home. I was frustrated, I, I just…”

“You’ve never acted like this before, Jack.” You say, scared this means his feelings for you have changed.

“I know, and I’m sorry, baby.” He says, entirely genuine as he strokes your outer calf with his thumb. “I was wrong… to treat you like that.”

“Yeah,” you agree, raising your brows with a nod. “You were.”

“I’m happy to see you, honey, I always am.” He tells you, a small, sweet smile forming on his lips. “I was just frustrated. My plane got cancelled, had to wait for another. The train was delayed, I couldn’t find a taxi… then my luggage got lost. It was hell gettin’ home. I just, I just needed a breather.”

You can understand this, that does sound frustrating. But that doesn’t mean he can just treat you like that. And still, your eyes soften, scanning the exhausted look on his face. He isn’t clean shaven, which is quite a rare thing. His eyes are tired, the scent of whiskey on his breath.

“I won’t do that again, honey.” He promises, standing from the couch and moving closer to you.

He kneels before you, your head turning to look at him as he cups your cheek.

“I hate seein’ you like that.” he confesses sincerely. “And I hate it more knowin’ I was the cause.”

You look down at him, your expression softening as your tears return. He leans in, pressing his lips softly yet firmly to yours as one rolls down your cheek. Your own hand lifts, resting along his jawline as you kiss.

“I thought you were mad at me…” you whisper, pulling away to rest your forehead on his.

“My sweet little girl,” he sighs, “I could never be mad at you.”

He grabs your face with both hands, guiding you to look at him. “You’re a true blessing from above.” He says, leaning up to kiss your forehead.

“I’m so sorry.” Jack says again, looking deep into your eyes.

Both of his thumbs stoke your cheeks, his forehead creasing with worry as he analyzes your face. You glance down at his lips, and he glances down at yours, slowly leaning forward to reunite them once again.

You’ve missed him so much, and even though his anger hid it, he missed you too; he deeply, desperately, missed you. Your heart beats in your chest, a bit of satisfaction leaving you with your little breaths, the feeling of his lips on yours always a sweet reminder of home.

“Baby,” he sighs out, panting between each kiss. “Come here.”

You twist your body, your lips never leaving his as you wrap your legs around his waist. His arms go to your back, holding you against him as he moves to stand. And slowly, he does, his lips eagerly mouthing at yours as he returns to your bedroom, this time, bringing you with him.

He lays you down, sweetly, gently, his body not once leaving yours. He helps you with your shirt, urging you to lean up as he takes it off. Jack removes his own, sliding his pants off while he’s up. You’d only been wearing an oversized t-shirt, and now all you’re left in are your panties.

You crawl backward on the bed with your lover following your moves, hovering over you until he can press his lips to yours once again. He situates himself between your thighs, his one hand squeezing you in his palm.

“I missed you, angel, you know that?” he mumbles against your lips. “I missed you so much.”

“Jack, baby…” you sigh out, your fingers curling around his neck and rising to his hair.

“There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t want to be in this bed with you beside me.” He pants out, “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Your heart beats at his sweet words, the tenacity from your fight slowly melting away. Jack moves away from your lips and down to your neck, the stubble along his jaw rubbing against your skin as his hips begin to roll passionately over yours. He starts with soft kisses, little ones here and there, the gentle acts eventually growing into quick bites and harsh sucks as he licks at your delicate skin.

While he’s worshiping your body, his beautifully smooth lips sliding down to your chest, he fumbles with his boxers, sliding them off and freeing his now hard length. He grunts when it hits his lower stomach, quickly crawling back over you to rub it between your slippery folds. He’s already dripping, his precum leaking all over your swollen sex and bare bellies as they rub together, his happy trail now littered with the clear, salty mess.

“Jack, please.”

“Tell me what you want, sugar.” He requests, eagerly rutting between your thighs. “Tell daddy what you need.”

“I need you.” you spit out, your mind spiraling at the nickname both you and him utterly crave. “I need you inside.”

“Yeah? You want me to do that, baby?” he sweetly asks, flattening his tongue out over your nipple.

“Oh…” you moan, arching into his touch.

“Come on, now.” he urges, “Use your words, darlin’. Tell me, I need you to tell me.”

He just loves this, he gets off on this, hearing you tell him what you want him to do to you. It makes him so hard, so aroused, so fucking feral.

“Fuck me, daddy, please. I want to feel you, I’ve missed you so much.” You whine out, running your fingernails over his scalp.

“Mm…” he hums, throbbing against your own dripping sex.

Without even positioning himself, he slides right inside, your wet lips fully welcoming him in. Your soft gasp hits the air once he slips past your folds, stretching you open on his thick girth as he sighs out against your neck.

“Sweet Jesus,” he groans, already retracting his hips before shoving deeper inside. “I missed this fuckin’ cunt, your beautiful little body always takin’ me so well.”

“Fuck!” you cry out, feeling him re-sheathe himself inside your walls.

He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at your beautiful face as he fucks you in earnest, his hips moving passionately, deeply, pleasuring you endlessly. He keeps himself up on his left forearm, his other hand sliding down to squeeze your upper thigh. Jack pulls on you, urging you to lift your leg up and around his waist, which you immediately do.

“Oh, look at that.” he sighs out, looking down between your bodies. “Baby, you’re so pretty.”

“Daddy,” you moan, the tantalizing sound causing his eyes to flicker back up.

“Fuck,” he groans, “You’re so cute.”

He quickly removes his hand from your thigh, harshly cupping your cheeks as he shoves his mouth over yours. His tongue forces its way inside, reaching the back of your throat as he consumes you whole. It explores you, tastes you, sliding against your own and urging a hot wave of slick to run down over his cock.

“I love you,” he expresses lowly, “I missed you. My beautiful little girl.”

“Hm…” you smirk, humming happily at his praise.

He slides in and out of you like its nothing, like its natural, like you were just made to fuck each other. You gasp out when he angles his hips, stabbing downward against that delicate little spot.

“Feels good,” he smirks, huffing out a chuckle. “Doesn’t it?”

You sigh out a giggle, shaking your head at the arrogance that so often, and so easily, makes you wet. You look up at him, your blissed-out face absolute heaven to his loving eyes.

“Oh, baby,” he sighs out, shaking his head. “You’re gonna make me cum, lookin’ at me like that. You pretty little thing…”

His face goes slack as he leans back down, focusing on your mouth as he sticks his tongue out of his own. He dips it inside, sloppily swapping spit as he molds his mouth to yours. Your moans echo into his throat, his hand leaving your face to grab onto your thigh once more.

“Play with yourself, honey.” He begs, “Come on, do it. Cum on daddy’s dick.”

“Oh, god!” you cry out, throwing your head back at his words.

He leans in, biting down hard as you move your hand between your slippery bodies. You play with yourself, just like he asked you to, rubbing quick little circles over your throbbing bundle of nerves. And Jack loves it, not only when you played with yourself, but when he saw it, felt it, truly getting off on your pleasure.

“That’s it,” he pants out, “That’s it, fuck.”

He groans lowly as he cums, huffing out against your neck as his hips jerk sharply against yours. The intense snap of his hips pushes you over the edge, the feeling of your slender fingers pleasuring your reddened bud while his tip punches up against your g-spot sending you spiraling into bliss. You writhe beneath him, your small frame rolling up against his strong muscles as you cum on his cock. He feels you, feels you wetting his softening erection and convulsing around the length of it. His own sex throbs, his tip leaking every last ounce of his spend into your velvety warmth.

“God,” he sighs out, dropping his body over yours.

He nuzzles his nose into your neck, moving both of his strong arms between you and the bed to hold you in his embrace. You relax your legs, sighing deeply as you begin to calm your breaths.

“You’re so good, baby doll.” He pants out, swallowing thickly. “Always so good to me.”

The fingers that curled into his hair, tugging hard as you came, now loosen their hold. You slowly stroke his head, sighing delightfully in the aftershocks of your love making.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Jack says to you, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at you. “I love you so much, I’m sorry I treated you like that.”

“Thank you, baby.” You coo, one hand lowering to softly stroke his cheek. “That means a lot to me.”

He smiles down at you, placing a light kiss on your nose and then on your lips.

“And I love you too, Jack.” you add on, “I always will.”

Thank you for reading <3

General Taglist: @anaaaispunk @dihra-vesa @sweetangel0069 @coaaster​

[sweetsbfreex]

a father’s duty

Summary: brought to u by the wholesome picture of Cevans sewing up dodger’s stuffed lion 🤧

Warnings: Talk of trauma (nothing too in depth) and talk of sex

Pairings: Dad, Husband!Ransom x reader

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You and Ransom were cuddled up together on the couch, some random movie he had chosen that you weren’t paying attention to. You wanted to cuddle, but he insisted on watching this movie so a compromise had to be made. And the feeling of his hand going up and down, inside your shirt, against your arm; Could only make you purr in contentment.

And you were meant to doze off if it wasn’t for the dramatic, high pitched scream of pure agony. You both shot up from your seats, looking at each other wide eyed before dashing up the stairs (Ransom ahead). 

Until you were in the doorway of an overly purple room.

“Mommy! Daddy!”

Ransom let a small, stunned gasp at the feel of a teary eyed four year old, Celeste bolting to his legs. Her small arms had tried to wrap around his legs as she sobbed into his jeans, fists tight as she clutching the denim. 

Confused you had leant down adjacent to her, Ransom peering down from his stance, lifting her arms to softly run circles over her back. 

“What’s wrong baby?” a fake pout on your lips.

“She’s dead!” she had sobbed, her puffy cheek making contact with his expensive jeans to make eye contact with you. 

“What? Who’s dead babe?” Ransom asked, tilting his head downward, eye brows stitched together. 

She propped her chin up against his leg, “Daffy” she blubbered, extending her arm behind her to point at the limp stuffed bunny a few feet away.

“Fucking––” He couldn’t finish his sentence a hearty laugh emitted into the otherwise somber air, still laughing (some tears streaking his face) he had picked up the once blubbering girl so she saddled on his hip. 

“Ransom! It’s not funny and language, god”

“C'mon” he dragged the n, “You gotta admit this is hilarious, she’s so dramatic...I wonder who she gets it from” he smirked, looking at you knowingly. 

“You” you appointed, holding back your smile. 

“As if” he scoffs rolling his eyes. 

“Daffy!” Celeste exclaimed, snapping the two from their loving trance. 

“Right!” you snapped yourself back into mom mode, making way to Daffy and your way back to the two, watching Ransom wipe the tears from Celeste’s face, calming her down in a hushed voice.

You sidle up next to Ransom lifting the stuffed animal, so the both of you could evaluate the state of her favorite buddy. You looked up to him, watching his face scrunch up, almost like disgust, but you knew he was just very confused.

“Jeez leste, what’d you do?” 

The light yellow bunny up front was perfectly fine, but once you had turned it around a tear in the fabric of the it’s “spine” was parted, the thread poking out along the hem. 

“I–– I was just spinning her around”

“Is that really what you did” you prompted.

“No..” she set forward shyly, resting her temple against her father’s shoulder. “There was a string and then I pulled it by accident”

“By accident?” Ransom asked, eyebrows raised. 

“On purpose” she mumbled, eyes tearing up slowly.

Celeste is probably the biggest liar the two of you know. You both have been working on that habit, reassuring her that it was fine and being honest is better most times (minus surprises, safety, etc). You both had even resorted to acting out examples for her. She was getting better, but ever the fibber she still found a way to slip into the habit. And when you had asked her why exactly she loved lying, she only replied with a quib “It’s fun!” giggling to herself. 

“Hey it’s okay, you were curious” he cooed, “Mommy will fix it don’t worry” 

You looked up at him mesmerized, not so surprised at the father he was becoming. Remembering all those nights he had kept the two of you up, even the day you were in labor, he had been worried. How was he ever supposed to love a kid properly–– let alone his–– when he never had that benefit. All these what ifs running through his head in a cycle.

He had even taken it upon himself to sign you both up for those parenting classes. The ones with the fake dolls. Dolls that he held gently as if they were alive.

“I will. You’ve had a long day, love, you wanna go to bed now?” you asked her, smiling. 

She nods silently, reaching her hands out to you. Ready for the familiar night routine to begin.

––––

After Celeste had been put to bed, it was not you and Ransom being the only two up. You were both in your shared bathroom, getting ready for bed. 

You groaned, catching the attention of Ransom. “Sewing that thing is gonna be some work” watching yourself in the mirror as you rub in your lotion. 

“You’re tying that thing together, how hard can that be?”

“I’m sewing it together” 

“Tomato, Tomahto” he responded. 

“Fine, since you think it’s so easy why don’t you fix it for her?” 

“Deal. I’ll take another night of anal as my end” he says this confindently, not expecting another word for you, as he saunters past you briskly but not before placing a kiss to your check and a rough smack to the ass. 

Ransom.

–––––

And god did he take this seriously. Making sure you were up this entire time as he achieved his new level of domesticity. 

And you did, sitting up against the headboard as you watched him sit shirtless across the sized room. 

He sits in the barrel chair. the stuffed animal in his lap, a spool of light pink thread to match the bunny in between his legs, and a packet of needles in his hand. 

“Babe you have to––”

He holds up a hand, stopping you from saying whatever you were about to say.

“I got this babe” he tells you, looking at you wearily as he pulls up a video (‘how to sew stuffed bunny animal together’) on his phone. 

You watch him watch the video,switching the show you were watching to make it seem as if you weren’t watching him too carefully. 

He squints, focused as he listens to the lady in the video.

“You look so cute”

“Thanks” he grumbles, placing a thimble on his pointer finger. 

He was like a cute grandmother. His eyebrows brought together and tongue poking through his cheek, which you teased him endlessly about. There was just something about watching a brawly, grumpy man like him knit. So you pulled your phone out wanting to take a quick picture. 

“Put. it. down.” he tells you, not even looking away from his task.

“Wha–– You’re really creepy, you know that. Smile” you demand of him. “It’d be so cute for the album”

He of course doesn’t smile instead raising the stuffed animal to cover his face from the camera, but you were quick enough to get something before that. Smiling fondly at the adorable photo of his concentrated face. Once you had your fill of serotonin, you closed the device and reached over to set it on your nightstand. 

“You gonna give me a kiss goodnight before you go?” he asks you stoically, head still looking down at his task. 

“Yes Ransom. Just give me a minute’ you respond, shimmying yourself from the soft sheets. You make your way besides Ransom–– naturally he wraps one arm around your waist to bring you–– leaning down and placing a kiss to his cheek (which he smiles at) then his lips. He pulls back first only to return again for a deeper one. Sending you off, finally, with a pinch to your ass. 

“Goodnight, Baby” you tell him over your shoulder on your way back to the bed. 

“Night y/n/n.”

–––––

“y/n” is whispered in your ear and the shaking of your shoulder is what causes you to wake up. You turn your head over your shoulder to see Ransom standing over you gleefully. 

“Ransom?” you rasp, turning your whole body over to face him, looking at the clock on your night stand. “It’s two in the morning!”

“Thanks captain obvious” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Yet, he lifts up the stuffed animal. Both hands on either paws, holding it up to show you. “I finished!”

You instantly noticed the band-aid wrapped around his thumb and the brightest smile on his face. Through it you could see how proud of himself he really was. He really was getting a hand of this dad thing he was still figuring it out. 

Ransom, however, could only think about how tired he was and how strained his eyes felt––probably rimmed red. With the amount of times he had to rewatch the video because he missed or didn’t understand a step. But, for his little girl it was definitely worth it. 

“Well, look at you. You did so good bub” you extend your arm up lazily to then loop it around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss. 

If only his conceited friends could see him now. Thinking about how Danver, one of the many friends he had dropped, would berate him passively. Calling it a women’s role most likely. 

“Thank you” he settles one more kiss, “Let’s go”

“Go where?” you chuckle

“Leste’s room...where else? She’ll need him to sleep the rest of the night comfortably” he explains, removing your arm from his neck. To gently tug your hand.

“You sure?” you ask hesitantly.

“Hundred percent, let’s go”

––––

You open the door slowly, the creaking sound it emitted making you cringe. And when you’re hushed by Ransom, you twist around instantly sending him a stink eye.

And you both stand against the side of her bed, you crouch down. Raising your hand to her shoulder. 

“Lesty” you whisper, your thumb running circles over her shoulder. 

She wakes up slowly, as always. The clear indication that she is awake being when she raises her hand to rub at her eyes.

“Mommy? She stops and gasps, “Are we going to Disney?” asking the question with glee, she sits up, her hands placed over her book patterned pajama pants.

You and Ransom share a short laugh. Remembering how you surprised her just like this months ago. The frown that overtakes her face makes you both want to laugh. 

“I’m going back to sleep” she tells you both, already reaching for her blanket. 

“Wait” you laugh, holding her hand. “There's a surprise for you” 

At your announcement, Ransom steps up holding out the sewed up stuffy. Her tiny hands covered the gasp she let out, muffling it.

“She’s fixed!” she’s astonished, running her fingers  along the stitches. 

Celeste felt like a jumping bean with all this happiness filling her body and she wasn’t sure how to express how happy she felt. So, she jumped onto her mother, arms latched onto her neck. Kissing her cheek incessantly.

“Thank you thank you thank you-”

“Actually––” you start.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!” ever the dramatic, “Momma didn’t do this. I did babe” he tells her, a gobsmacked, playful expression on his face. 

Ransom’s replica quickly unlatched herself from y/n, rocketing herself into his arms. He held onto her tightly. Falling in love with the toothy smile–– albeit it was missing a front one–– she gave him. He was rolling around in her appreciation towards his gesture. This was all he wanted. To be a better man for you to marry and be a better father for his daughter.

He brought her into him a little bit, placing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Anything for you Leste” he tells her in a hush. 

You rise slowly from your crouch, knees a bit sore from how long you were down there. Just in awe of the love they both exerted towards each other. Ransom’s hand lightly flying over the back of her head and Her tiny palm coddling his cheek.

“Time for bed?” you ask the two of them, your hand naturally going to Ransom and Celeste’s shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m tired” she tells you, dragging out the h. Setting her cheek to her dad’s muscled shoulder. Nuzzling her cheek against it lazily. 

“Yeah? Well let’s put you in bed first” Ransom responds. 

You walk behind the two, as Ransom sets her down gently on her bed.

He sets a kiss to her cheek then he pulls back, watching the way her arms tighten around the stuffed animal. 

“You love it?” he asks, a proud smile etched on his face. 

“Yes” she whispers, “Thank you, daddy” her palm caressing the top of it’s head. 

“Anything for you Leste” he reaffirmed. He needed her to know that he’d do anything. Anything. To keep a smile that bright on her precious face. He didn’t want her to doubt if he ever loved her or if she could ever come to him about anything. He especially didn’t want her to think that she’d be second to his work. 

He loved her too much and decided, right when you told him the news, he’d learn from his parents’ mistakes and trauma he had to deal with. 

“Goodnight, honey”

He gets up from his spot watching you lean over placing a kiss to her cheek, tugging the crocheted blanket to Celeste’s chin. 

“Night baby” you tell her sweetly.  

“Night” she replies to the both of you before snuggling into the duck more. 

––––

RIght when you shut the door, you expect to face Ransom’s back walking towards your bedroom. But try not to scream, startled, when your head meets with his chest.

You look up, probably not the smartest thing to do. “You ready for bed?” you ask nervously, each hand landing on his broad shoulders. 

With the way he was looking at you, you would assume you were the last stash of biscoff cookies he always keeps fully stored in the house. Especially, with the other Drysdale in the house, the cookies went by faster when they used to.

“Don’t think so..We made a bet. Remember?” he smiles

“RIght now?!” you hiss lowly. He must have lost his mind. “You woke me up at like three in the morning”

“It was actually two” you whack his arm at his smart mouth, of course he doesn’t react.  “Anyway. A bets a bet. Let’s go baby” he crouches down, lifting you up swiftly into a bride-groom like position.

“Ransom!” you whisper, taken by surprise. 

“A quickie and then we’ll drop her off at your parents tomorrow to get to the real stuff tomorrow” he asserts.

With that, he picks up his speed. Taking you both down the hallway. Once he’s arrived at his destination–– the bedroom–– he throws you on the bed. Laughing to himself with how stricken you look. You should be used to this by now, he tells himself. 

“Ransom!” is the last of his name he hears with a tone of scolding mixed with shock, before he gets to work. When he climbs on top of you quickly––like a lion to prey––biting your neck. 

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