#i still have a long way to go before im satisfied with my closet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arcanistvysoren · 3 months

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kudos to u for writing THE kaffee/ross fic! im surprised there's not a ton for them; like you go across the river to top gun and there's oodles lol. i love your danny, but i especially love your jack; with how little we really see in the movie, you really managed to kind of flesh him out more and make him this guy who's falling in love despite himself, who's melancholy and sweet in his own kind of way. i wanted to ask -- how do u think the two of them end up?

Hi! :3 Thank you so much for your message.

First of all, let me apologize for not responding sooner. me: links my tumblr on all my AO3 fics also me: stops checking tumblr for 6 months Blog was just collecting cobwebs since December.

And then I logged in and had three whole messages, so of course I curled in on myself like a mollusk and had to think about how to answer them for a good long while.

Gonna put my answer under cut because, truthfully, this is something I’ve thought about before, thought about extensively, and since I made you wait for a reply for so long, might as well make it a good and long one.

First of all. Again: really appreciated this message. <3 Like you said — there are barely any fics out there for this movie — so it always makes me happy to know that mine is satisfying enough to have scratched the itch for someone out there who also wanted something lgbt to happen. :3

Especially because I certainly took a lot of artistic liberties, expanding Jack’s character like did.

There are characters out there in many fandoms that really do scream “closeted.” Like, you brought up Top Gun, and Iceman is exactly one such character, as far as fandom’s very reasonable reading is concerned. But I don’t think Jack’s like that at all. Nothing about him really suggested it. And still, on a whim, I decided: yeah I’m gonna make this man experience institutionalized homophobia. Which is a topic that, emphatically, does NOT have universal appeal.

But people continue to react very positively to it, so I’m always happy to know it landed well. <3

=======

Now, to the question at hand: I actually have thought about this even way back when I was writing the original fic. I planned things much further than where the fic ends, I even toyed with the idea of writing a sequel fic immediately after. That, obviously, never happened, but you can reap the benefits of whatever unfulfilled plans I did have.

1. First of all, it has to be said that “you inspired a fire”, in both iterations, is very much a getting-them-together fic. And fics like that, by design, leave off at a fairly early stage in a relationship. And I always try to write fics like that with the implication and the vibe that everything works out in the long run. Like appending a flashforward coda scene at the end that has a more settled “ER” vibe.

But, by virtue of how these types of fics are usually written, you have a lot of pining and then a sudden and tumultuous and happy resolution. But that leaves a very strong sense of “wait there should be more”. Because you know they are now on the same page but they still have so much ground to cover, all these unresolved emotions and growing pains of a new relationship.

And that’s one of the reasons why I was toying with the idea of an immediate sequel. Because it finishes way too early, and I wanted to write further steps of how the relationship actually progresses.

Now, this part is a little difficult for me to sum up in a tumblr post, because emotional beats of a romance to me are always more vibe than substance when I plan them. I know the trajectory, but the actual meat on the bones gets written as it gets written.

But, just talking through the intentions behind it: one of the cornerstones, (and a major appeal,) of Jack and Danny’s relationship for me was always the juxtaposition of their worldviews and expectations.

Jack has known that he’s gay for a very long time, and he’s lived with this knowledge, and internalized it to kind of accept a certain level of permanent unhappiness in his life. Versus Danny — who has gone through life thinking one thing about himself, and who then realizes that he’s queer quite abruptly, takes a moment to come to terms with it, and then there’s no additional turmoil for him in that. He doesn’t flinch from the realization, he just accepts it as the new status quo, and then he’s all in. He doesn’t have any of Jack’s hang-ups, he doesn’t have his cynicism, he doesn’t have his years of fear and anxiety over homophobia and, like you said, his melancholy.

And much of their relationship propels itself (and will continue to propel itself) exactly because Danny isn’t preemptively afraid that the relationship will fail, or will have tragic consequences on their social or professional lives. But just because it’s easy on him, doesn’t make it any easier on Jack.

Now, if we’re just talking romance: I think the romantic intimacy portion of their relationship never suffers any hurdles. (I, in general, do not subscribe to the “soap opera” variety of romance-writing where you get two people together, but then you have to maintain drama for the next season, the next book, the next something, so you create a profound interpersonal problem for them. If a relationship has problems that arise from a lack of communication, that’s already pretty bad. If a problem arises even with communication, then people are not on the same page at all, and that’s even worse.)

Either way, I think both Jack and Danny are committed to being very good at love. To putting themselves out there. Jack — for all that he’s a very tightly-wound individual who is not exactly highly emotive — thought that he would never, not in a million years, get to have this. So now that he does, a relationship is something that he cherishes and would never take for granted. He is extremely attentive, he has like an internal calendar of their personal milestones. Whereas Danny is good at it in a spontaneous way. He doesn’t spend time agonizing over each and any gesture of affection. His brand is more “I saw this and I thought of you,” which happens without rhyme or reason, but it happens all the time, and that’s something that Jack, for all his fastidiousness and rigorous schedules, deeply loves about him. Because it means Danny is thinking about him, that he always thinks about him, that Jack is always part of Danny’s considerations about anything going forward, just effortlessly, and that is a sort of attention that he never had in his life.

2. The difficulty, as I imagine it, at the beginning of their relationship, comes from everything else. Everything in their life outside of the actual romance.

The JAG Corps has a lot of military pride and lawyer pride about appearing a certain way, having this pristine career, immaculate resume, and all that. And Jack is a consummate professional, and for years he clocked in every morning to do his job and left everything else outside those walls. And then Danny comes along and just demolishes his neat routine.

The title of the fic itself — you know, nobody ever asked me about it, and I never really commented on it before, and it’s kind of silly. ‘Coz it’s a line from a song that really has NOTHING to do with anything in the fic whatsoever. I almost didn’t use it as the title because of how incongruous it was. In the end, I guess, in my head it made enough sense, regardless of the source, that I left it as is. But the song in question was What Kind of Man by Florence + the Machine — which is a song that is about an upsettingly toxic relationship between the narrator and somebody who doesn’t commit to her but emotionally strings her along. Which: like I said, not at all relevant. But the refrain in that song is: ‘And with one kiss — you inspired a fire that lasted for twenty years. What kind of man loves like this?’ And when I was writing the fic originally, that song (which was pretty fresh at that time) did pop into my head, entirely removed from the context of the song. Because, just in a vacuum, without the rest of it, I thought it did fit how I saw their relationship from Jack’s perspective. Because Jack was just fully encrusted within his way of life. Emotionally shut down. And then Danny completely wrecked him out of his equilibrium in a kind of… irrecoverable way. And if it ended up that Danny didn’t feel the same way about him, Jack would really never fully get over the experience of falling for him.

Here you have Jack, who is all about his job and nothing but, and suddenly he catches these really intense feelings, in a way he has never had before. Sure, he had some misguided attractions in the past, but that was always a very subdued longing that he has always managed to successfully bury and ignore. And then Danny just burrows under his skin, in this maddening fashion, and Jack tries to fight against it, and he finds that he can’t. And the intensity of how much he feels for Danny is really difficult for him to grapple with. He thinks of romance as something he can control and even ignore, and to find himself in a situation where he can’t do either is very disrupting for him. And even when he knows that Danny returns his interest, for Jack, this is the first time that he has experienced this level of intensity. And he doesn’t think Danny can match that. He thinks that Danny is less entangled in it, that Danny would be capable of moving on from their romance. And he recognizes that he himself will never be able to. That he will be in love with Danny for the rest of his life. And Danny, unknowingly, has a lot of power over him, has the power to inflict just careless thoughtless damage.

So that’s kind of issue number one that I foresee. Is that these fears carry over for Jack into the initial beginning of the relationship, before he is fully 100% convinced that Danny is, really, on the same page about it as him.

And then, also, Jack doesn’t trust that Danny can tone it down and actually be considerate enough to be low-key about their relationship. Danny is very antithetical to the idea of anything low-key. Like, he is the type of a guy to loudly call out a stranger on their homophobia — because he doesn’t really think it has anything to do with him, personally, he doesn’t think that it will make people think he’s gay, or that it will have social repercussions for him. Because, previously, it never has been about him. And he likes to make himself a bother. And that is mortifying to Jack who doesn’t want any attention to be attracted to the concept of queerness in relation to him or any of his circle of friends.

And, finally, Jack feels that he’s been on this road for a long time. The road of being closeted in the military. He knows all the road signs, he’s paid every toll on that road. And he doesn’t think that Danny understands how many tolls there will be. And, on one hand, he doesn’t want Danny to be burnt by the same experiences that he himself has been hurt by. But, on the other hand, circling back to the commitment of it all: he also fears that it may become too much. And that Danny won’t be able to handle the social pressure.

All of that is already sort of implied in the main fic, I guess, and sort of contributes to the ambivalent tone of the ending — because all these issues remain unresolved. And I don’t exactly have a script ready here for how each of these points do get resolved. Like I said, I typically don’t think about writing things like that, it just happens naturally over the course of the rest of the plot unfolding, and the multitude of slice-of-life moments through which I typically craft fics like that. Plus, with some of these, you really do need the narrative feeling behind it. Because you can’t really prove commitment to somebody who has trust issues in that department. It just something that heals over time.

3. And then, of course, you have to contend with the political landscape of it all. Typically, unless otherwise specified, I take it to mean that movies of this type and genre take place in the year they were released. Or when the screenplay got written. So, we have 1992, the Jessup case happens, and then, going off of the chronology of the fic, 1993 is when Jack and Danny hook up and begin their relationship.

And that is literally immediately before DADT happens.

This time period has a lot of historical milestones for queer rights. But, specifically, the conversation about gays and lesbians in the military was a not-insignificant and often talked-about political issue at that point. It was part of Clinton’s presidential campaign. 1993 is when Washington Post publishes a fairly famous quote from a retired Major General: “You don’t have to be straight to shoot straight.” A lot of people are wanting a change. And Clinton plans to repeal any laws that would prohibit gays and lesbians from serving.

But, of course, a lot of right-wing people are against the change. Clinton faces a lot of opposition, and the Congress outmaneuvers him and enacts the ban on gays in the military into federal law. Clinton tries to overturn it but is unsuccessful. And, as a compromise, his administration issues a Directive which says that you cannot ask military applicants about their sexual orientation. And then the phrase “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” is later coined and affixed to it.

DADT was like the beginning of Sleeping Beauty where the curse was already laid by the evil witch and the best thing that one fairy can do is provide the most miserable little loophole that can barely prevent anything. The directive itself may have helped matters a tiny bit, it certainly allowed queer people to still serve. But it offered no protection from harassment and bias, which led to a lot of abuse and discrimination and even cases of murder.

And DADT will only be repealed in 2011. Same-sex marriage will become legal in all fifty states in 2015. I was in my 20s when that happened, so, unlike with the beginning of DADT, I actually have my own personal feelings about witnessing all that. But, the point is, from 1992 that’s about 20 years of extreme bullshit that they will have to live with.

I have it somewhere in my notes that Danny was born in 1964. I think the age is given when Jo recounts his resume? Which makes him 28 in 1992, and will make him 48 in 2012. Jack is described as two years older in the Sorkin script, so 30 and 50 respectively. That’s a hell of a long time to wait until you can be fully socially open about anything. You become used to it. A lot of people came out publicly and cheerfully in those years — but a lot of people remained as closeted as they ever were. Just because it’s been made legal, doesn’t mean you will not be ostracized professionally or socially by those who didn’t think it should have been. That’s a battle not everybody wants to fight.

And the military? Especially rancid about that.

By that point in time, Jack and Danny’s personal views would have bled into one another’s, I think.

Jack has never wanted to take part in this fight at all. By the time he’s 30, he’s already nearly fully insulated against it. Not to accidentally project personal experiences on a character, but — living where I am, in a hugely homophobic country — I can’t leave my house without encountering three separate instances of casual homophobia daily. It’s just part of the parlance. On TV, from strangers in the general store, from colleagues at work — colleagues that might even be friendly with you, but who will emphatically not see you the same way if they knew you were queer. And you smile, and you’re polite, but there is a wall, and you don’t really make connections with people, you don’t really allow anyone to get close. Because the baseline assumption is that everyone around you is a conservative bigot.

I remember freaking a friend of mine out. We went to college together, she was there for my coming out. We were close. Still are. But I made a friendly connection through local fandom with a new person. And like, we would talk nearly every day, we’re having fun, I mention her a lot... And then 2 years later I tell my friend from college: you know, I think it’s time to see if I can actually be friends with her. And my college friend instantly went through 5 stages of grief wondering: does Cyril also not think WE’RE friends yet?? But of course I did. And the issue on the table was queerness. Was me coming out to that other person as all my labels, and also making sure she’s normal about labels that I don’t have. Spoiler alert: she wasn’t, and it was one of the more difficult friendship divorces of my life. But that’s the sort of living that I’m talking about. We were close, we talked every day, we worked on fandom projects together, we skyped, we played video games, we had been to each other’s houses…. And then I came out to her, and it all just imploded. She wasn’t outwardly homophobic, but she was still hella conservative, but thought she was being liberal-minded. Just oodles of really offensive opinions. That I couldn't possibly dig her out of. And I just had to say sorry but no dice.

And I think Jack lives pretty much exactly like that. Whatever relationship he builds — and, again, I don’t mean exclusively in the romantic sense, I mean making friends at work, and anywhere else — everything is removed. People around him largely assume that he’s exactly like them, a boring peg, and that he’s polite, and likable, and that his anti-social tendencies are a personal flaw that he should maybe work on. They have no reason to understand that him being distant is a deliberate choice and a defense mechanism. Yes, he has a polite and amiable relationship with a lot of people at work. ‘Smiling Jack Ross’, and all that. But he isn’t actually friends with anybody. There is no deep intimacy in any of these relationships. Friendship requires honesty, and he knows he cannot be honest with these people. Criminality of being gay in the military aside, some people do form friendships, discover allies, and admit the truth to their friends. Not everybody he works with is incredibly right-wing. People can keep secrets, people can be normal about it. But that’s not Jack’s experience, and it is not his expectation, so he doesn’t do that at all.

And so, early on in their relationship, whenever the two of them encounter homophobia in the wild together, Jack just ignores it, completely blots it out. It doesn’t even register for him. Whenever he hears somebody spout insane backwards backwater bullshit, it’s a total disconnect for him. It just has so little basis in reality, it has so little to do with him, that it becomes like white noise that he doesn’t even hear.

And then, Danny is very much opposite of that. He wants to verbally spar. He wants to be loud and sarcastic and a nuisance. And when he sees people behaving horribly, he needles them, he antagonizes them. And, to him, that is also impersonal. For him, arguing is almost like a sport, and he doesn’t argue because the topic got to him, but because someone is wrong and Danny will see that person humiliated. The topic itself, arguing about being gay, also doesn’t feel to him like that’s about him.

Which is a part of a larger conversation, because even being in a queer relationship, I think he doesn’t really categorize himself as queer. Which is an issue with a lot of bisexual people who come into bisexuality later, and the language doesn’t feel like it applies to them, and also they don’t have any leg to stand on when it comes to the actual social politics of it. They didn’t live through homophobia, they just instantly fell into a good and healthy relationship. So when he starts debating bigots and calling them out on homophobia — it doesn’t really even feel to him like that’s about him. It’s just about fairness. It’s way more about Jack to him than it’s in any way about himself.

My point is, ultimately — when you flashforward twenty years into the future, they will both have learned from one other. Jack will have learned to be more ready to defend queerness, because it doesn’t leave him vulnerable anymore, and because, before, it was just bullshit he could ignore. But now it’s not just somebody shitting on him, it’s somebody shitting on Danny also, and their relationship, their family. And Danny is not going to take that lying down, he will stand alone against the whole world if he has to. And Jack isn’t about to let him do any of it alone.

Whereas Danny is having the opposite trajectory of: yes, he is ready to fight every bigot and just verbally destroy them. He has the energy of an angry jack russell terrier about most things. And it doesn’t take up any negative emotional space for him, even. It doesn’t bother him, it doesn’t stay with him, like I said: it’s almost like a sport to him — to shoot verbal pellets at fools. But he has to recognize pretty fast that his behavior is making things difficult for Jack. And so Danny will have to learn to appreciate his self-control and why it’s important to Jack, and learn to exercise the same level of restraint.

And there’s a golden mean there somewhere where they are able to meet and understand each other and assume each other’s point of view. And then, by the time 2011 and so forth roll up… they would have lived a content but emphatically closeted life for almost 20 years. They would have gone through the majority of their adulthood in hiding. And, like I said, just because the law changes to say something is legal — doesn’t mean it flips the switch in everybody around them. They are still surrounded by people who would make their lives miserable upon finding out. As well as left-wing people who would want to make someone like them poster children for success in the military and the JAG. And… at 50? I don’t think even Danny who is effortlessly extraverted would want that.

This is not to say that participating in queer politics is a young people’s fight. By and large, it has never been so. But their situation is severely constricted by them being in the military.

=======

Moving on from that. The DADT spiral got away from me a little. But. Like I said. Those were just general concepts and vibes of how I would have approached tackling the overarching themes in their relationship. Hypothetical plot points.

I do, however, also have some stuff that is more “thetical.” Back when I did think I would have enough time, and momentum, and spark, to write the sequel. I did pen some stuff down.

(This ask, in itself, is now the length of a decent short fic, but I’m on a roll here. Too late to turn back, I am committing.)

I had assorted notes with intermittently written scenes spanning almost the entire two decades from the end of the original fic to the repeal. Among them, these look the most readable:

A. I was incredibly invested in the “coming out” process. Because, yes, they need to hide their relationship, socially and professionally. But Danny has two very close personal friendships in his life that are extremely important to him and that he is not prepared to toss over for his romantic relationship. Jack has his bad experiences, he is used to people turning on you, treating you like a pariah after finding out. But Danny neither has that experience, nor thinks that Jo and Sam would react that way. Because, unlike Jack, when he builds a friendship, he really fucking builds it. Whereas I was talking about Jack keeping everyone at the same polite distance, Danny actually takes care to get to know people in his life, and to figure out which of them he meshes well with, and then he doesn’t let them go. He trusts that he knows Jo and Sam well enough to assert that they wouldn’t react like assholes.

So, after the first couple of months, Danny goes: I wanna tell them. And Jack is… the opposite of thrilled about it.

(It goes, roughly, something like that.)

Danny: I don’t want to lie to them. And yes, I know I said I would be okay with the lying — and I am. To the military. Hell, to the whole world. But they’re my friends. They will be in my life hopefully for as long as you will be — so you can’t really expect me to not tell them. I mean, they’re bound to notice we’re living together eventually, you know? Sam’s wife keeps trying to set me up with her girlfriends, and I am running out of excuses, and, damn it, yeah, I just want them to know, okay? Jack: [quiet-like] …I don’t think it’s a good idea. Danny: [earnestly] Jack, I trust them. You know them. They’re good people. Jack: That’s… not, precisely, my concern. I do not think either of them would get us thrown out. But I think the friendship you are trying to preserve here will not survive the revelation. They will not look at you the same. And that’s… a discomfort I am used to, and I know how to handle. But you do not. And I’d rather you didn’t have to find out.

Once again, Jack has a lot of unhappy experiences that he himself lived through about being gay, and people finding out, and how isolated it made him.

But Danny, after pondering it for a bit, still thinks he’s right. And, lbr, in this instance, he is. He’s a people person in a way that Jack isn’t. And his read on people is better, and his relationships that are really truly intimate are also so much more emotionally close than anything Jack has ever personally had, due to how he has always distanced himself from relationships out of self-preservation. But, for a while, Danny defers to Jack’s experience with this and he keeps putting it off. It’s not like he’s not nervous about it. He just doesn’t see any other way than to tell them.

In the meantime, they are practically living together, as Danny said. They’re going through the growing pains I outlined above and also just learning that quiet personal intimacy of living with another person. I’m sure they have very different housing habits. Danny certainly has his own military training drilled into him, I don’t think he’s exactly a messy person, but he’s not fastidious either. But Jack struggles with issues of control and lack of it in his life, so I think he exerts whatever control he can over any aspect of his day-to-day, which includes his schedule, and wardrobe, and immaculate living space.

Anyway, as they keep migrating back and forth between both of their places: Danny pretty much lives in his old family house, full of old memories, the long shadow cast by his father’s ghost, which is something that he is trying to get away from. While Jack, I imagine, being a frugal man, got himself a bachelor pad intended for one person, because he never imagined he would be sharing his life with anybody else. So, inevitably, Danny starts to think that they should probably move. Find a place that is big enough for the both of them and makes them both comfortable. Except, of course, two men — even men in uniform, or, maybe, especially in uniform — cannot exactly go house-hunting together.

Which is the moment he finally elects to come out to Jo.

They go out to their favorite spot in the park. It’s January 1994, so, like I said, DADT is about to go into effect, it is being discussed in most military journals. Some tagline about it is on the cover of whatever magazine Jo brought with her. Danny’s eyes get drawn to it unhappily in spite of himself. It’s been Christmas/Hannukah season, they haven’t really seen much of each other, and Sam’s wife has a moratorium on work talk during holiday season, so they haven’t actively discussed any of this stuff, except in a few throwaway sentences that really didn’t tell Danny anything about what either of them actually thought. Ultimately, though: he’s only known Jo for about two years now. Less than. And — aside from his really crass attempts at flirting initially — they do work very well together, and she’s a very moral person, and a straight-shooter, and he thinks she will probably not react badly if he brings it up. And it’s much easier to bring up to her first, because they have known each other the shortest. And she notices him staring at the cover, and rolls her eyes and says: It’s a stupid law. Because she’s probably highly politically involved, a Clinton supporter, who had expectations about the kind of forward-thinking changes his administration may bring. She has opinions about this legislation, and she also tends to back up her opinions with a lot of citations, because she is used to be challenged and disregarded by a certain cadre of men. She is well-read on the issue. Danny looks at her and asks: Why? To which she rolls her eyes again and just says: Don’t be such a guy, Danny. Because, let’s be fair, they’re friends now, and she knows he’s a decent guy, but he’s also been kind of vulgar with her enough times in a way that is very not politically correct. He says some chauvinistic things to her in the movie, and iirc I wrote that into the fic too, when he takes her out to whine about his crisis without actually telling her why he’s having a crisis? So she just assumes he might hold some bigoted views here. Not that she says so, and not that Danny realizes it from her dismissive answer — the turmoil currently in his head is so far away from what she assumes, that it doesn’t even occur to him that she might be expecting this from him. Anyway, he changes topics abruptly and says: Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask you for a favor. [Jo politely raises her eyebrows.] Danny: I wanna buy a house. Jo: [deadpan] Oh. Right. And I am notorious for my degree in real estate. Danny: [giving her one of his patented charming smiles] I need you to go house-shopping with me. Jo: [perplexed] What’s wrong with your current place? Danny: I – uh – I’m gonna sell it. Too many memories, too many ghosts. And I need – whaddaya call them �� like, a family house? Somewhere you move into with your wife, and your kids, and your dog. Jo: You don’t have a wife, or kids, or a dog. Danny: That’s why I want you come with me. To play pretend. :) [Jo continues to just stare at him, not making this request easy on him in the slightest.] Jo: Danny… aren’t you… seeing someone? [Danny looks away ruefully. Seeing someone. That’s not what he’d call it. He doesn’t think of it as dating. Just living. Loving. Just life.] Danny: Maybe. Jo: So why are you asking me? Why aren’t you taking your mystery paramour that you’ve been hiding from Sam and myself? [And Danny swallows, and every cautionary protest that Jack has ever raised to him rears up all of its insecure hydra heads in his mind. And for a long moment he doesn’t say anything, and Jo just waits him out patiently.] [And then he looks at the magazine that she still has in her lap and he says…] Danny: Because. Because it’s a stupid law. [And Jo squares her back, startled, and looks at him all wide-eyed and then says, sounding kind of insulting tragic about it: Oh, Danny…]

But, yes. Of course, of course, she is fine with it.

And he doesn’t tell her it’s Jack — not that day, at least; not immediately. It’s one thing that he wants her to know about him and what’s going on with him, and that he’s actually sorta kinda queer, but he promised to never betray Jack’s confidence, and he will not unless Jack okays it.

Jo, of course, is not an idiot, and will draw the correct conclusion herself. Because who else could it possibly be, when Danny and Jack have been practically inseparable for months now. Not that she says so. She waits until he’s ready to tell her.

But, yes, they do go house-shopping. And yes, it does go smoother when the real estate person thinks it’s just a nice military couple in love, isn’t this nice, isn’t this proper.

Sam is… a different matter, I think, because they’ve been friends for much longer. And also because it’s an avuncular sort of friendship. Sam is older, and he took Danny under his wing when Danny was just this green snotty boy fresh out of law school. And it is kind of terrifying for Danny to fracture this closeness, and lose his respect, and ruin their friendship. In exactly the kind of way that Jack has been warning him against.

And, obviously, I don’t think that it will. But I do think Sam won’t know how to talk to Danny about it. Like, this is very much outside of his ballpark, and just because he doesn’t have any negative bias, doesn’t mean he knows how to be encouraging and overtly okay about it either. So I think for a while after Danny tells him they will just not talk about it at all. Which is not ideal. Because it makes Danny feel like maybe he isn’t okay about it. He doesn’t want it ignored. But Sam is finding it awkward. So it becomes this thing where: yeah / he knows / he’s okay with it / everything else is exactly the same, they work cases the same, they meet up the same, Danny is invited to their house the same, but they just never talk about It. And Sam is just avoiding the topic because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and he doesn’t think he has a right thing to say, but it will weigh on Danny a little bit — up until he has something like a minor tiff with Jack, over some of the things I mentioned above. The growing pains of the stuff they disagree about and have to work through. And Danny will be just stewing in it, and Sam will ask him what’s wrong, and Danny will reluctantly say that it’s about Jack, implying: maybe you don’t wanna hear it. And Sam will steel himself inwardly and say: okay maybe you can tell me about it. And Danny does, hesitantly at first, and then getting more and more into it, and it’s just, you know, very minor, very day-to-day, very human problems. And Sam will go, in his head: oh, actually, I do know how to talk about it, because it’s literally just relationship advice that is NO different from any type of marriage advice I would have given regardless of gender, because I myself am married; and also, bonus, I do know Jack personally, and understand his point of view as an unbiased observer in a way Danny cannot because he’s too close to it; so, actually, it turns out that talking about this doesn’t have any extra rules just because it’s two guys. And, as part of this conversation, they will just mend this little fracture in their relationship. Not that there was ever an actual argument to begin with, but things were a little strained in this area, and this finally solves it for them. And they don’t actually verbally acknowledge it in any way, but they both come away from that conversation knowing that things are more fine now than they were before.

B. I would actually very much like to revisit Jack’s backstory. Like, I wrote about him having NSA relationships before. Most of his encounters were very brief and mostly one-night-stands. But he had that relationship with his Drill Instructor, which Jack registers as a positive relationship, because he was a nice guy, and it was a continuous affair that lasted for some months. But that DI was also convinced that this is like the best that men like them can have in the military. That they don’t get to be in love, they can just form these transitory arrangements with people that they like, fuck around, and that’s it. And that’s how he chose to live his life, and that was enough for him — but it wasn’t for Jack, but he still internalized it as a true lesson about life, which contributed to his pitiful expectations for how life can and cannot be.

And then, present day, this same DI is accused of conduct unbecoming with a fellow female soldier. And there’s like an underlying political bullshit reason for it. Everything’s staged for reasons I did not determine, but some kind of a detective plot unraveling in the background, the internal politics of the place where the DI is stationed at the time. The charges are obviously bogus, but the guy can’t exactly say that it’s all bullshit since he’s gay, because that’s not a defense, that’s an immediate discharge for a completely different reason. And the case comes across their desk, it isn’t even intended for them, but Jack notices the name and he requests it from the Judge Advocate General.

And Jack is well-liked in the Corps because of his work ethic. And, you know how it is. Technically, you cannot investigate someone you may have a pre-existing knowledge of, like someone that you served with. It’s a conflict of interest. But in reality there’s enough personal feelings inside any organization that people are willing to kind of bend the rules. Nepotism has existed since the dawn of time. So the JAG agrees, but doesn’t give the case to Jack, he gives it to Kaffee — to avoid the immediate perception of any actual favoritism. But Jack is allowed to go with him as his secondary.

And Danny doesn’t understand at first why Jack wants this case, because the charge is kind of severe, and Jack disclosed to the JAG that he knew the defendant, so Danny just assumes it’s a case of “I know the man and he is incapable” vs. the reality of “maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought”. Danny is prepared to investigate with zero bias. And Jack is notoriously impartial, so Danny’s not exactly worried. He might not want to believe that a friend of his is capable, but if he is presented with enough evidence, he will pursue justice fully. Except then, of course, once they are alone and can talk freely and are riding out to their investigation, and Danny asks: how can you possibly know he didn’t do what they are saying he did? Jack comes out and says: ‘cause he’s gay. And Danny goes: oh. And realizes he has to brace himself for a very different kind of encounter.

I think, by that time, they are in a very good and stable place in their relationship. But it’s still always emotionally difficult to meet your current partner’s ex, especially if the parting was pretty amicable, so there aren’t any negative feelings there. Like, he’s not exactly threatened, he’s not exactly jealous, but it is a very palpable person he gets to measure himself against, with regards to Jack’s past choice of partner. And he doesn’t fully realize that he comes off very well in that comparison, because this is a relationship that set a very very low bar for Jack as far as expectations go. And for this DI to see Jack, and then eventually realize that the guy he came here with is not just a colleague, and not even just a guy he sleeps with, but that they have an actual committed relationship. It’s kind of a very tragic thing to see. That it was always possible, and he just never was brave enough to try. And for Jack it is also kind of cathartic to see this part of his life in retrospect and to see how far he’s come. I think it really crystallizes for him the difference from how he’s been at the beginning of his relationship with Danny, when he was more insecure about where they were going, as opposed to now, like a year plus down the line, where he knows that they are it. They’re practically married, in all ways that matter. That he is so secure in this relationship, and that the old anxieties and hurts no longer pain him.

=======

There were a couple of other things I’d written down, but I think this paints a clear enough picture and I should stop.

This is answer is now 7,000 words long. I am so good at social media.

This is why tumblr is the only website I am on. Shortform? Not in this house.

Thank you for coming to the Director’s Cut of AFGM. I hope the exhaustiveness of my answer made up for the wait. 🤍

#tag: less talk more work #tag: the portrait of the blogger as a young man #mine: fic

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letsgivethisonemoreshot · 2 years

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Sinful Sunday:Day 3

Summary: Collab with @omg-im-such-a-masochist . Where every Sunday each of us will post a one-shot/hc/drabble based on a common theme. Each week will have a different theme as well as a different wrestler.

Word Count: 1,170 words

Common Theme For The Week: Same phrase - “Don’t you dare”

My Choice For The Week: Matt Jackson

Warnings: +18, adult themed, daddy kink, sexual situations

“Baby, you just got home. Do you have to go out?” She asked, pouting her lower lip.

“Yes babe, I have to. I won’t be long though. I promise,” Matt reassured her with a kiss to her forehead.

Matt had been gone the last few weeks on the other side of the country doing shows, appearances, and signings. It wasn’t anything new for them. Matt had been wrestling long before they met and she was used to it. She was just hoping to get some time with her before his next set of shows. Though they would end up being more local, she would still have to share him with his co-workers and fans. She was hoping for a little one on one time before that. Tonight they were having a meeting to get everything situated for the next round of shoes, and then he assured her he would be all hers after that.

After being gone for several hours with no word, she got a devilish idea in her head. She sent a text message to Matt asking him if he’d be home soon. While waiting for a reply she went into her closet and found his favorite baby blue lingerie set. After shedding her clothes and putting on the little lacy bra and booty shorts, she grabbed her phone.

‘Yeah babe. We’re just finishing up here.’

With Matt, that could mean one of two things. One, they were finishing up, and he’d be heading back home shortly. Two, they were finishing up discussing business, and would then end up having a few drinks and chilling out for another few hours before he decided to come home. And you never quite knew which it would be. Depended on how things were going at the time.

She took a cute picture of herself in the lingerie, making sure that the expression on her face was an innocent looking as possible, and sent it along with a reply.

‘I don’t know if I can wait much longer. I might just have to get started without you.’

His reply was quick. ‘Don’t you dare.’

She couldn’t help but have a little more fun with him. Afterall, this sort of was his fault for not being home. She went back into the closet, searching through where they kept their sex toys. She grabbed the vibrator wand, then went back to the bed to get her phone. She turned the wand on then began recording on her phone. Pushing the wand against her core, she made sure her camera was able to get a good view before slowly bringing it up to her face. Adding a little more pressure to the vibrator caused her eyes to slowly close as a gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth. She may have had an innocent look to her a few minutes ago, but the moans that she was releasing now claimed she was anything but.

Satisfied with her little show, she turned the vibrator off and send the video to Matt. Several minutes had gone by with no response from Matt. She wasn’t even sure if he had seen the video yet. Having no idea when he would be home, and growing impatient, she thought about sending him some more photos. He would look at them eventually. And when he did maybe he’d rush home. That’s what she really wanted. Sure she had the wand, and it was great, but it wasn’t her boyfriend. It didn’t touch her the way his fingers did. It couldn’t compare to the way he made love to her. She turned the wand back on and pressed it against her, thinking about Matt’s lips along her neck. Getting herself far more worked up than she planned. Biting her lower lip while the wet spot on her panties grew, she reached over for her phone. Just as she was about to take another picture, the bedroom door bust open with an angry Matt standing in the doorway. Catching her off guard he took her by surprise. He stormed over to her with a stern look across his face. She tried to sit up to meet him but he pushed her back down against the pillows and got on top of her.

“Just what did you think you were doing?”

His face hovered over hers. Her wide eyes staring up at him. Her arm was caught between her body and his. His leg was positioned in a way that it was holding the vibrator in place against her.

“Are you really that much of a horny little slut you couldn’t wait for me to get home?”

“No matt, I wasn’t AAH,” A yelp escaped her as he repositioned himself, pressing the wand harder into her.

“Sure looks like you were. Why else would you have this out?” Matt asked as he nudged the wand. “I’m supposed to believe you were here by yourself playing with your sweet pussy for my benefit?”

“Yes! For, for you,” She tried to stutter an explanation.

Even with the underwear on the vibrations were sending her into a state of bliss. The toy itself was powerful. And when Matt got on top of her he pushed the wand right onto her clit. Whenever he moved he made the lacy material of her panties run against her folds in a teasing way She could feel the build up of an orgasm happening. She tried to shift her body away from the wand or move it, but Matt’s body was holding everything in place.

“Matt please, I…”

“You’re lucky I was already on the way home when you sent that video,” He interrupted. “What if I had opened it with the guys still around? What if they had seen that?” He asked darkly as his hand shot out around her throat. Her eyes began to roll back in her head at the pleasure that was building between her legs and from what Matt was saying. “Or is that what you wanted? You’re such a dirty tease you wanted them to see that little show you put on for me. You’d get off that wouldn’t you? Filthy slut.”

Her moans got so loud they began to drown out what Matt was saying. She tried to hold off, but she couldn’t anymore as her orgasm overtook her. The tiny wet spot growing into a huge one as she squirted while trying to grind her hips against the vibrating wand. Matt chuckled as he watched her before climbing off of her. He took a few steps back, watching her as she breathed heavy while coming down from her high. Matt smirked and slowly began to undress himself, taking his belt out of the loops of his jeans.

“Sweetheart, did you just cum without my permission?” He asked in a very condescending tone, knowing he had forced her to.

“Yes Daddy,” She whispered.

“You know that’s against the rules,” He smiled which cracking the belt in his hands. “Now assume the position for your punishment.”

#sinful sunday #matt jackson #matt jackson drabble #matt jackson fic #matt jackson fanfic #matt jackson fanfiction #aew fanfiction

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yslkook · 3 years

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UNFUCKWITABLE (9)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook convinces you to take a staycation with him for a few days (a week).

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, oc and jk discuss their unprotected sex practices, vomiting, some jealous jk, mild exhibitionism, fingers in oc's mouth grinding, making out, oral (m), titjob

word count: 7k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. also...cant believe mom manifested into butter jk im in pain

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Jungkook is unsurprised to enter your home with the key you’d given him the other week and find it completely empty. You’ve been working early mornings and incredibly late nights for the last week and a half, and he can tell it’s beginning to take a toll on you. The first sign that you were beginning to wear down was when you had skipped dinner in favor of sleeping. The second was when you had snapped at him in irritation and then immediately cried over hurting his feelings.

He can think of about a dozen other things, including the even more pronounced bags under your eyes. You’ve always had dark circles under your eyes naturally from hyperpigmentation but these days, not even concealer can help you mask them.

In fact, the reason that you’d even given him a key was because you felt like work was taking over your entire life. You’d hardly had a chance to see anyone who wasn’t a work colleague, and you just missed Jungkook. At least this way, you could wake up and go to bed with him.

You had only been calling Jungkook your partner just shy of four months, and he had a key to your home. Perhaps it was fast for other people, but with him, it felt right. So he keeps a copy of your keys on his lanyard- it’s possibly his most prized possession right now. Jungkook usually only comes when you ask him to, he’s been staying at your place for the last week because of how tired and busy you were.

Usually you stop by the tattoo parlor at least once or twice a week, but you have been sparse because of work. So he’s here, in your home without you. It felt strange the first few times he’d been here without you, but then he started leaving little pockets of himself- his shoes next to yours, his hair product on your shelf, and his two of his jackets hanging near yours in the closet. He’d even purchased a new plant to keep on your windowsill in your living room (which you take turns dutifully watering and making sure she gets enough sunlight).

It’s all very domestic. He had jokingly told you not to expose him to your shared friends, specifically Mina and Mei. To which you had rolled your eyes.

Though some small, very small, part of him wonders if the magic will fade away soon. Considering how fast you both are moving both physically into your home and in your relationship.

It’s only been a few months, and you both were incredibly comfortable with the idea of unprotected sex- after all, Jungkook always pulls out in time. Until, of course, you’d had a pregnancy scare. Hoseok and Yoongi, ever the pair of realists, had scolded him when Jungkook had revealed that you both hardly ever used any protection-

“Are you trying to knock her up? Is that it? You both ready to potentially be parents?” Yoongi says mildly as he polishes off his wine, looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook’s cheeks burn.

“No, I’m not trying to knock her up and no, nobody’s trying to be parents-”

“You both are lucky you haven’t knocked her up already,” Hoseok says, with more heat in his voice, “You both are fucking stupid, but you especially.” He even smacks the back of his head with the book in his hands and Jungkook glares at him.

“Hey, my pull out game has always been strong, and I’m serious about her. We wouldn’t fuck raw if-”

“Oh, yes, then we definitely have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi says, “Keep it moving, Hobi.

“Talk to her about it, or else,” Hoseok threatens, “I don’t wanna hear about another pregnancy scare because you’re both idiots.”

“I know, I know,” Jungkook relents, “We’ve been talking about it. It just sucks that birth control can fuck up a woman’s body like that, you know? Mood changes and appetite changes, nausea and everything…”

“You could always get a vasectomy,” Yoongi says bluntly.

“Mei said the same thing. She was way more mean about it, though. Told me she’d cut my balls off if I didn’t get my shit together.”

“I don’t blame her, considering what a mess you both were last month.”

“We were not a mess!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stressed ever in your life, not even when your first bike got run over by a car. Or when your tattoo got infected three consecutive times. And I’ve never seen her cry so much before.”

“Alright, maybe we’re a little bit of a mess.”

In the end, you and Jungkook had both decided that yes, condoms were probably a good idea. Considering the pregnancy scare you had last month, you both were on edge and a little paranoid. Jungkook hadn’t even mentioned the idea of you taking birth control or getting an IUD, knowing that your last few experiences with the former were unpleasant-

“I can get a vasectomy, you know. In fact, Yoongi suggested it,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly but your jaw drops.

“Jungkook. I don’t think vasectomies are reversible like that. Think about what you’re saying,” You murmur, “I’m touched you’d consider a surgical procedure so I don’t have to take birth control, but what if-”

“I looked it up, they can be reversed-”

“But Jungkook! You don’t know that, what if you want to have kids later and you can’t because you decided on a fucking whim to get a vasectomy? It’s still trauma on your body! You can’t just snip snap, snip snap your vas deferens tube whenever you please. At least with birth control you can start and stop it, even if that’s not a completely benign process.”

Jungkook looks at you long and hard, his tongue poking his cheek and you sigh. “But I don’t-”

“Honey. I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” You murmur, squeezing his hands in yours, “But we’re both being stupid. We’re both acting like condoms don’t exist. Why don’t we start with condoms and then think about getting your tubes tied or me getting an IUD?”

“You spoiled me,” Jungkook complains dramatically and drops his head to your chest, “With your pussy. I’m spoiled now.”

“Shut up.”

And so now, a box of condoms sits in the drawer of your nightstand and you’ve taken to bringing a few with you in your purse as well (and so does he). You’d been far more nervous buying condoms than you’d ever been of buying anything else, and Jungkook had only cockily grinned at you.

Today’s Friday and it’s the day of your deadline. Meaning that you’d hopefully be home soon and be his for the rest of the weekend. He fully plans on getting you to relax and stay in for the majority of the weekend, so that you can catch up on sleep.

But then you come home past dinner (you had sent him a text earlier telling him that you were going to be late. He knows your mood is sour- you had been in a foul mood all week, and the fact that you’re so close to being home but so far just makes it worse). You come home with an empty belly, a weary mind and wetness along your lash line. Climbing into bed next to him, you circle your arms around his waist and cry tiredly into his chest.

“J-Jungkook,” You hiccup, “I’m so tired, they kept me s-so late today but it’s done. Everything is finished-”

“Oh, baby,” He sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “It’s okay. We can just sleep now. You should take a few days off next week, baby.”

“I don’t know…” But your eyes are wide and considering it.

“You’ve been running on empty all week,” Jungkook points out, “For longer than that. Your job can handle two or three days without you while you recharge. Text your boss, baby. You need to rest, too.”

He nudges your cheek with his nose and you hum in agreement. “Okay. Five day weekend? Sure you won’t get tired of me?” You murmur and laugh when he squeezes your waist.

“We can make it a staycation.”

And you’re already texting your boss, telling her that you needed a few days off next week. She gives you a thumbs up and encourages you to rest up, making it a point to recognize how hard you’ve been working. She even suggests you take the full week off, which you jump at and Jungkook only grins at you.

“My brilliant girl, charming her way into a full week off.”

You swat his hand away and hide your burning but satisfied face in his chest. “Yeah, your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Oh, that’s not the only thing rubbing off on you,” Jungkook says wickedly and pushes his hips into yours, earning a fierce pinch to his bare waist.

“Hush, I’m trying to nap,” You mumble, your voice muffled. Without warning, you lick his neck and bite lightly at the base of his neck, ignoring his soft yelp. He doesn’t have a chance to question you on what that was, as you’re already falling asleep.

You’ve always thought from the beginning, even when you and Jungkook were just friends, that he was an ass man. You’ve caught him staring at your ass many, many times- in jeans, in a dress, in a skirt. And now that you both are officially together, he spends any and every moment he can with a hand on your ass. Casually, when you both walk side by side. And purposefully when you’re both just in his bed or on your couch. His hand is a well known presence on your ass, not that you’re complaining.

One of Jungkook’s favorite places to nap is on your ass, with his cheek pressed into you and one hand firmly gripping your ass. He also likes laying with his head on your lap. But his favorite place to nap is with his head buried in your chest, specifically buried in between your tits. He is currently analyzing his hypothesis that your right tit is smaller than your left, a thought he’s had for a while now, but needs further samples of evidence to properly assess.

But he’s always had an affinity for your tits, whether you’re blissfully unaware of it or not. You don’t notice it not really- you like any and all of his touches on any inch of your skin, as you’ve told him many times before. Especially when he holds you close next to him or under him and you feel protected, surrounded by only him.

He holds you, looks at you as if you’re as soothing as the sea and as bright as a supernova. And yet, the universe is contained in his big, doe eyes.

But really, at the end of the day, it’s an affinity for you. Jungkook loves every part of your mind, body, and soul, and he thinks he has for a long time. His heart has been tangled with yours since the first time he had seen you years ago at Hobi’s surprise birthday party that you had planned. Jungkook is sure that when he had seen you with a homemade red velvet cheesecake with a ‘Happy Birthday Hobi <3’ written perfectly in red icing in your arms, a silly party hat on your head, and a shy, beaming smile on your lips, he had been magnetized to your center of gravity from then on.

But even then, he had only hovered. Barely introducing himself, if it weren’t for Mina and Mei. He thought he had known girls like you- girls who baked cakes, planned elaborate birthday parties for their friends and wore flowery dresses liked other predictable people. It’s another one of his hypotheses (which has been clearly debunked)- but by now, he knows not to be so judgmental of others.

But he doesn’t dwell on that for long. Even the first time he met you, right after he had introduced himself to you and you had stared at him with starstruck eyes and stammered a quiet ‘hello’ in return, Sora had cornered him. And told him to back off from right then, that you were off limits. That you’d never be interested in a guy like him, so to not even spend a second in his stupid little mind even entertaining the ridiculous idea.

So he backed off subconsciously, thinking it wasn’t worth it to even know you as a friend. He’d convinced himself that it was too much trouble, and Jungkook has always been an easygoing kind of guy in most instances. After all, your best friend would know you best, right? And really, what did he care? As the saying goes, there were about a million other fish in the sea.

However. Even then, with each word uttered between you both, with each laugh that he pulled from your soft mouth, he couldn’t help the reluctant fondness for you that began to bloom. You had surprised him every few months after that, just saying hello at events that you were both present at and asking how he was. With that stupidly beautiful smile and those bright, shy eyes.

You were a smart, kind woman, always remembering details about others. And he was no exception.

That was years ago. He’s known you since your third year at university, hanging by a thread just outside your orbit. But this is now.

This is now, and your lips are against his neck, your chest pressed to his. You climb into his lap haphazardly, nearly knocking your mug off of the coffee table. You both have only just woken up and stumbled out of bed for coffee and breakfast. You had combed the tangles out of his bedhead with his head in your lap, but now sleepiness has washed away and you’re tugging at his oversized shirt.

You promptly bite him, right where his neck tattoo starts and ends. Jungkook meets your eyes with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” He murmurs, palming your chest from under your shirt.

“Nothing. You just have a very biteable neck, I told you,” You say, resuming your inspection of the vein next to his tattoo, “What a juicy jugular vein-”

Jungkook holds your wrist and flips you so that your back is on the couch. “My sexy vampire girlfriend. Love when she starts talking about my jugular vein.”

“Watch out, I might drink from it. You never know,” You giggle with a wink, squirming in his grip.

“You can do whatever you want,” Jungkook murmurs but then an idea that has been planted in his head for weeks now spills from his lips without him meaning to, “I wanna fuck your tits, baby.”

Your eyes go comically wide, mimicking Jungkook’s own. His cheeks are a little pink from his abrupt confession as silence falls between you both.

“That’s really interesting,” You muse.

“Is it?” He asks, feeling a little lightheaded. You tug a little at his purple locks to pull him down to you.

“Yeah. Always thought you liked booty. And legs,” You shrug, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

Jungkook’s throat is too dry for him to reply coherently. But he finds his voice after you give him a reassuring smile, “Uh, when it’s you, I like everything.”

“Me too. When it’s you, I like everything,” You mumble, heat rising in your cheeks, “And uh… you can. Do that I mean.”

“Do what?” He asks teasingly, tilting his head to the side.

“Don’t play dumb,” You whine, shoving his shoulder.

“C’mon say it,” Jungkook jeers, not unkindly, “Put your big girl panties on.”

“I hate you,” You sigh dramatically, “Fine. You can fuck my tits, if you so desire.” His face splits into a grin as he thumbs your chin and ducks his head into your neck. He playfully nips at your skin, murmuring that he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine, but you feel his half hard cock pressing against your thigh.

The image of his cock wet and slick between your tits is now imprinted in your mind, and when both of you want something, you’ll surely get it.

Despite your eagerness of making Jungkook’s wish a reality, neither of you have had the chance for your usual shenanigans just yet. You still have quite a few days of your staycation left, so you won’t rush it. You had spent most of the first two days sleeping, cuddling, spooning, eating and lots and lots of slow sex.

You think you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve left your bed. Jungkook has been nothing short of wonderful, bringing you food (just this once, you hate eating while in bed), giving you shoulder rubs and booty rubs without you asking. Your favorite ice cream is in your freezer. Life is good.

His shirt hangs off of your shoulder and you’re too lazy to fix it. In fact you’re too lazy for pajama bottoms, only settling on your favorite pair of comfortable panties (nothing flashy. Just a standard black cotton panty) to wear under your shirt. One might even call them granny panties or whatever, but lace was uncomfortable on your skin. Lace and thongs are for very, very special occasions (hardly if ever) and you are in the comfort of your own home. You’ll be comfortable if it’s the last thing you do.

In fact, you’re too lazy to even raise your head to pucker your lips for a kiss from Jungkook. You only open your arms and hum, as if he’s supposed to telepathically know what you want from him. But he does, and he flops onto you once he tugs his shirt off. Jungkook’s face remains buried in your chest as you gently rub his scalp.

He hums happily, nearly purring at your touch and shoves himself closer into your hold. You can’t believe this man, the man who mildly intimidated you for years, is now in your arms and purring like a baby kitten. He’s admitted a few times that his scalp has been irritated and inflamed ever since he dyed his hair purple. One of his favorite things is to lay in your lap while you massage a mix of coconut oil and peppermint oil into his scalp.

He looks up at you, warm heat blazing in his eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about but he palms your pussy from under your shirt- your still swollen, puffy pussy from the four times he’s made you cum already.

“Can I help you, Jungkook,” You ask flatly, but your poker face breaks when he dots you with kisses up and down your thighs.

“Yeah, fuck,” Jungkook groans, voice slowing to a whine, “I’m still hard, baby, fuck. Help me.”

“How are you still hard,” You wonder with a grin, “Damn, Jeon. You must really like me, huh?”

“If that wasn’t obvious then I’m clearly not doing something right here,” He breathes into your skin.

“Gimme a kiss then,” You murmur, pushing his long hair behind his ear. His eyebrow piercing glints in the light of your bedroom and you trace it gently with your fingertips. Jungkook desperately pushes his lips to yours, parting your lips easily and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses your teeth hungrily, strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks.

His hips roll into yours impatiently, hands already pawing at your shirt. The air in your bedroom is suddenly so stifling, thick and nearly choking you both with the intensity of your desire. You just want him to feel good with you.

“Jungkook,” You say softly with warm cheeks, “You can use me, however you want. Tell me what you want, bunny.”

He lets out a quiet gasp, his eyes bright and wide.

You’re both on the same page, because he’s scrambling to chuck his boxers to the side and you’re tossing your shirt on top of his boxers.

***********************

“Fuuuck,” Jungkook groans. He’s breathless, heart racing erratically. All he can do is hold your shoulders as he watches with a piercing, hazy gaze as his cock is swallowed in between your tits. You squeeze them tightly together, trying to create as much friction as you can for him.

“Fuck,” He whines, “Fuck, you look so good, baby. O-oh, shit, my pretty baby, you’re pretty-”

Jungkook nearly cums when you mischievously stick your tongue out to brush against the head of his leaking cock. The visual is almost too much for him and his breaths are choked, strangled as he forces himself to look into your dark eyes.

“So big, bunny, look,” You say softly, “You like this? You’re so hot like this…”

He’s nearly in tears, eyes shining and wet at how good this feels. If your pussy was a slice of heaven, then your tits were the next best thing. You moan softly, feeling your own wetness and heat pooling. Jungkook’s cheeks and chest are flushed, eyes wild and wet as he slides his cock in between the valley of your tits languidly. Almost as if he doesn’t want the moment to end.

You’re so warm, warm everywhere.

His muscles are tense, the furrow in his brow beginning to appear when he’s about to cum. “Shit, baby, oh my god, I love your tits,” Jungkook moans, tossing his head back, “Fuck, I love everything about you-”

You don’t know how he’s able to form coherent sentences to you when he’s this close to cumming. But he’s always been a man of many talents.

“You know what I just realized,” You gasp suddenly, “Neither of us made it official that we’re dating. Like I never asked you ‘out’ and you never asked me ‘out’-”

“Fuck, you talk too much,” Jungkook nearly snarls, “My cock is literally in between your tits and I’m about to fucking cum all over you and you think I belong to anyone else?”

You swallow thickly, Jungkook narrowing his eyes at you. He looks intimidating and intense above you, his powerful, golden thighs straddling either side of you.

“N-no, I was just-”

Jungkook shoots you a glare, reaches behind him and gathers your wetness with two fingers. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You send him a glare right back, but it melts away quickly when you swirl your tongue and suck on his digits.

He cums without warning, hastily and with a broken sort of sound ripping from his throat. It’s warm and sticky as it lands on your chest and your cheek. But he cums so much and much to your chagrin some of his cum gets in your eye and you nearly shriek at the burn.

“Jungkook! What the hell, your cum is in my fucking eyeball-”

He’s still panting above you, like some sort of golden boy, and it takes him a few seconds to register your irritation. “Oh shit,” Jungkook says and jumps into action. He tugs you into the bathroom to gently wash your eye for you (after washing his own hands), with you grumbling the entire time.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You roll your eyes and demand to be taken back to bed and lavished in kisses as penance for his cum shooting into your eye.

Jungkook tastes himself a little when his tongue slips into your mouth, but it hardly registers as he rolls on top of you, caging you in between his arms.

Jungkook fleetingly thinks he should’ve spent more time trying to convince you to stay home with him. Maybe with a few soft, long kisses to your neck, he might have. You looked delectable, good enough to eat- your dress fitted around your hips, nails, hair, and makeup done, the scent of your perfume subtle but not irritating to his sensitive nose.

You had asked him to pick what jewelry to wear, so one of his long necklaces sitting around your neck and disappearing into the valley of your chest. It doesn’t really match with your dress, but you don’t care.

And Jungkook… well, it was difficult for you to keep your hands off of him as well. His hair is tied back into a neat ponytail, he’s wearing a sequined black (fitted) button up with the top four buttons undone, a thick, silver chain and ripped, black jeans. Your eyes are glued to his chest and he knows it- you can’t help but grip his arm, his bicep whenever you can.

Neither of you really enjoyed the club scene, but you had wanted to go out since it had been a really long time and after all, you were on your staycation. Mei had planted the idea in your head, and so now here Jungkook was.

Here he was, catching flashes off the satin, coral colored wrap dress that you were encased in. For someone who doesn’t like the scene, you blend in effortlessly. But you’re a grown woman, so he takes his eyes off of you and orders a round of shots for him, Jimin, Taehyung and Jin while nursing a bottle of soju.

In the midst of the thumping bass bouncing off of the walls in the club, you’re only aware of you and Mei while you both sing along to whatever song is blasting through the club. Mina disappeared a while ago, presumably to find Jimin.

You’re holding two drinks, one in each hand, and all you feel is the vibrations of the club. Along with your own drunkenness. Mei holds your arm to keep you steady as you move your hips in time with hers. You laugh loudly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders at something she said. Everything is amplified and muted at the same time, the swirl of alcohol settling comfortably in your veins.

You’re having a great time with your friends, dancing, swirling, singing and drinking. It’s a nice night to unwind, in the company of dear friends and strangers.

“Hey,” Mei murmurs in your ear, “I gotta pee and I’m gonna go find Seulgi-”

“You can just say that you wanna go find her,” You giggle, “Don’t blame your bladder on it, Mei.”

“Oh, you’re funny. I’ll text Jungkook and tell him to come find you, alright?” Mei says, patting your head. You nod and tell her to go find her girl, and she does. Leaving you to your own devices for a bit, at least until Jungkook makes his way to you.

However, what neither of you realize is that the cell reception in this building is terrible. Mei’s text never goes through and you stay in your bubble, with your two drinks in your hands and bounce along to the music.

You’re not sure how much time goes by, but it feels like you’ve been alone for quite a while. You squint your eyes at your phone to check the time and send a text to Jungkook. A text that never goes through. You frown and are about to turn on your heel to link up with your man (wherever he might be), but you hear a surprised call of your name.

It’s hard to keep the incredulity out of your face when you come face to face with Yunho, the man who had stood you up all those months ago. The air has almost been punched out of your lungs, and you have to squint at him to believe what you’re seeing.

He calls your name again, giving you a wave and a bright smile. “Funny seeing you here, huh?”

“Uh…”

“Can I buy you a drink? I feel like I owe it to you after…” His eyes are sincere. At least you think so, with your drunk goggles on.

“I don’t know, Yunho, it’s okay…” You mumble unsurely, “Isn’t this weird?”

“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Yunho says and pulls a chuckle out of you.

“Oh, alright. I guess a drink won’t hurt,” You shrug and lead the way to the bar. The least he can do for you after standing you up and hurting your feelings is buy you a drink, you think.

“Hey listen, I owe you an apology,” Yunho says, sliding your drink towards you.

“Oh, it’s- it was a long time ago,” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. Sure, it was a hit to your ego, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter. Not when you have Jungkook. Honestly, you’ve forgotten that Yunho had even been a blip in your radar once upon a time. It was only because of Sora, anyway.

“I had something urgent come up last minute that day and I asked Sora to tell you,” Yunho continues, “I’m sorry I didn’t follow up or even reach out to you after. But I’d heard that you were with Jeon now, so didn’t want to… overstep, I guess.”

And even through your drunken haze, you understand. You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Oh boy,” You groan, “Sora never told me about that but we’re not close anymore, Yunho. It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry she got you, too.”

Yunho’s lips part in surprise, “She didn’t… Alright. What’s done is done, I guess.”

“Yeah,” You murmur airily, “And yes, I am with Jeon. Though I can’t seem to find him…”

“I’m happy to keep you company until you do.”

Despite how well you and Yunho seem to hit it off (most of your time spent bitching about Sora), you can’t help but think of Jungkook. You quite miss him, not having seen him all night in the club. You want to dance with him, and little do you know that he’s been scouring the entire club for you in a frenzy once he ran into Mei and Mina and hadn’t seen you with them.

He had sent them a glare, his jaw clenched and walked away to find you. So when his eyes finally land on you at the bar, after about twenty-five minutes of searching and trying to get through strings of people around you, his heart soars. But he sees you laughing with someone else at the bar. With Yunho.

Jealousy is petty, he tells himself. But he struggles to keep it at bay as it rears its head and comforts him. He’s always been protective and possessive of those he loves and cherishes. You’re definitely no exception.

You wobble a little on your feet, but you hold your own. Even from here, he can see the drunkenness of your smile, beads of sweat as they race down your neck to hide in the valley of your breasts. He zeroes in on your necklace (his) around your neck and reminds himself. It’s his necklace that you’re wearing, after all.

Then why is the man who stood you up all those months ago making you laugh like that?

You must have a sixth sense or something for him, because you turn your head a bit as if you can sense him. Your entire face lights up when you see him, in a way that makes his tough heart swell in adoration.

You make your way over to him with your drink and peck his lips chastely, despite his desire to pull you into his arms and kiss you long enough that your knees buckle. So that Yunho sees that he is yours.

“You disappeared on me, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, adjusting your necklace. He’s gripping it tightly, but you don’t notice.

“I was with Yunho, remember him? ‘Member, he stood me up but he didn’t because it was Sora’s fault-”

“That’s no surprise,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. You take his hand, squeezing and introduce him to Yunho. As if he doesn’t know him already. Jungkook’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like how Yunho looks at you, how his gaze lingers on your skin and the curves of your dress. You lean against Jungkook heavily, absently playing with his fingers. You stay mostly quiet, sipping your drink as the two men speak (rather tersely).

Jungkook knows he’s being ridiculous.

“Kook, finish my drink?” You murmur, offering him the glass. Jungkook maintains eye contact with Yunho as he downs the remainder of your drink in a few solid gulps.

“Was nice to see you, Yunho,” You say, “I think Jimin and Mina are looking for us, Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

With that Jungkook firmly holds your waist, keeping you close to him. You both know that neither Jimin nor Mina are looking for either of you. You’d only wanted to be alone with Jungkook.

So Jungkook leads you to a spot where he knows Yunho can visibly see you both. You let loose, giggling as Jungkook twirls you easily and moving your arms to match the beat of the music. He makes you laugh with his moves, winking at you and shooting finger guns at you as he twirls and swivels around you. He’s always been a great dancer, you realize. That’s funny, because you’re sometimes clumsy on your own two feet. He pulls you into him, his chest to your back and his hips pressed against your ass. You sigh contentedly, head lolling against his shoulder and you rest your hand over his hand to let him lead you.

His nose is buried in your neck, lips lightly brushing your pulse. He bites your earlobe gently, earning a soft laugh from you. Jungkook tilts your jaw to the side to meet your eyes and plants a deep kiss to your glossy lips. He holds you steady when your knees weaken, your belly flipping at the intensity that he pours into you.

Jungkook is all around you, encasing you within his arms and there’s not a single place you’d rather be. When you pull away for air, you thumb away your gloss on his bottom lip and bite his bottom lip gently.

“I adore you,” You say dreamily, “You are so… Everything. Everything. I adore you.”

Jungkook’s cheeks burn, but he ducks his head for another sharp kiss. And if Yunho is watching him shove his tongue down your throat and holding your hips to his possessively then that’s fine by him.

The journey back home is a quick one (after you both stop for fried noodles, despite the inevitable heartburn it’ll give you both the next day but you’re both so hungry). You both stumble into your home in a mess of giggles and groping, nearly falling to the floor due to your clumsiness.

Jungkook has been hard since he kissed you in the club, in front of Yunho. He knew Yunho had been watching, feeling the man’s eyes on you both the entire time. His jealousy has crawled back into the box that it was unleashed from, but he knows that’s something to revisit later.

Something else to revisit is that he liked that someone else was watching him with you. He stores that information for later, instead focusing on keeping you upright from falling.

Somehow, through your blurry vision and wobbly legs, you get on your knees and palm Jungkook’s cock through his pants. A shameless moan rips through you- any and every inch of him makes you dizzy with desire.

You like him so much that it nearly makes you cry.

“Gonna blow you now,” You announce happily, fumbling with the button of his jeans and using all of your concentration and strength to pull his pants down along with his boxers. You sloppily kiss your way down his chest, spending extra time on his tattoo and licking (then biting) his happy trail before humming around his leaking cock.

He’s so wet already, and it’s all because of you.

Jungkook groans, eyes closing in pleasure as your pretty mouth wraps around his cock. He thrusts lightly into your mouth, peeling his eyes open to watch you. Only to find you already staring up at him, your makeup smudged and tears already forming in your pretty eyes. He cradles your cheek affectionately, stroking your cheekbone-

But before he can compliment you, softly praise you, he hears a noise. It originates from the back of your throat, something both familiar and unfamiliar. You gag uncontrollably around his cock, and while it’s certainly not the first time it’s happened, it’s different this time. Because you’re a little drunk. So he should be unsurprised when you retch on his cock, pull yourself off of him before your drunk self can get any more vomit on his cock and sprint into your bathroom.

You manage to lock the door in your frenzy of utter humiliation and alcohol addled mind. You hover over the toilet bowl, the sounds of you throwing up bouncing off of the walls. You’re crying, sobbing more like it- from both the pain in your chest from vomiting violently into the toilet bowl coupled with the humiliation of quite literally throwing up on your boyfriend’s cock.

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, as if that’ll erase the memory.

“Baby,” Jungkook calls softly, his cock fully hanging out in the open, “Baby, please open the door. It’s not a big deal, but I need to wash my dick off.”

You let out a choked, watery laugh at that and move to flush the toilet and rinse your mouth out. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you unlock your bathroom door, and you can’t bear to look Jungkook in the eye. But he holds your wrist to his when you try to escape into the safety of your bedroom.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest, heat flooding your ears in shame. It feels like your head is empty, static filling up the spaces that the silence between you both doesn’t.

“It’s just me,” Jungkook coos, “Do you want to shower with me?”

“Jungkook, ‘m absolutely mortified,” You say flatly, voice a little high in pitch as fresh tears burning behind your eyelids, “I want to evaporate from this plane of existence in about three-point-four seconds, I literally threw up on your penis, I’m so sorry. Don’t even look at me-”

Jungkook winces at your tone and the way your shoulders are hunched, hands gripping the hem of your dress unsurely.

“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, “It’s really okay, there’s nothing to apologize for. Come shower. The vomit is drying on my dick-”

But that’s the wrong thing to say because you start to cry immediately, shoving your face in your hands. Jungkook sighs, mentally kicking himself and running a hand through his purple locks. He calls your name softly and pulls you into his arms for a tight hug, despite the drying vomit on his dick, which is hanging out and brushes against your hip. You sniffle, peeking at him with shy eyes and he rubs your back soothingly.

“When I say it’s okay, I mean it,” Jungkook murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how drunk you were. I know you feel embarrassed, but it’s just me, baby.”

He kisses you, despite your protests, and helps you rinse your mouth again. You allow Jungkook to somehow maneuver you into the shower, peeling you out of your clothes. You feel grimy and sticky from the club and you’re grateful for the cool water against your skin. You stand behind Jungkook, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face in between his shoulder blades, letting him wash himself.

“Can I wash you?” You whisper, voice unsure. You feel awful, cheeks burning but still. He nods and you take your body wash and lather him with it, washing his now limp dick gently and swallowing nervously.

“See? Not a big deal,” Jungkook says, coaxes you out of your nervousness, “Lemme wash you, baby.”

And so he does, taking your loofah and gently rubbing your skin. Under the cool spray of water, your nerves slip away with each giggle and kiss that he pulls and plants from your lips. Your eyes are still a little shy, a little slick with alcohol. But it’s just Jungkook, and you’re safe with him.

Jungkook nearly wrestles you to get you to eat something more, after throwing up the remainder of your guts after you both had showered (it was mainly just water and alcohol at this point). You’re nearly falling asleep on his shoulder but he manages to shake you awake for a slice of leftover noodles and two glasses of water. But eventually, he coaxes you into eating with a few kisses, hugs, and shoulder rubs.

Once you both are in bed, Jungkook wraps himself around you, his hands immediately drifting below your sleep shirt to your belly. Your cheeks burn as the events of the night replay in your mind’s eye and you press your face into your pillow with a groan.

“I can’t believe I threw up on your dick a-and you’re so nice a-about it,” You mumble, “You really are everything.”

“Well, what else am I going to do if the girl I like vomits on my dick,” Jungkook murmurs, “Don’t worry about it, baby. It happens.”

“To who? Only to me,” You say sadly, “I drank too much. I’m sorry, Kook-”

“Shhh,” Jungkook says, tightening his arms around you and kissing your forehead, “I promise it’s okay. I promise I’m not looking at you any differently.”

His words make you relax in his hold and you nod. Jungkook tilts your jaw towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t say anything else after that, only allowing your soft, breathy sighs to spill out of your lips and into him with every comforting kiss and every slip of his tongue in your mouth.

He tells you to rest in between kisses, but your eyes are already closed.

**************************************

MOM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ultraanonymousey @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c @yeotan07

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world.

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat.

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family.

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other.

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her.

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble.

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju.

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.”

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well.

Maybe a little too well.

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves.

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow.

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?”

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?”

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?”

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo.

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast.

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap.

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words:

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.”

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night.

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice.

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real.

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length.

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life.

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.”

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset.

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.”

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.”

“Understandable.”

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love.

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style.

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out.

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep.

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day.

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe.

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom.

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today.

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.”

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—”

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up.

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook.

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better.

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back.

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back.

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal.

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.”

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel.

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire.

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle.

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo.

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.”

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already.

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.”

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.”

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?”

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.”

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.”

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.”

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.”

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?”

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.”

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.”

“Uh, this is my apartment.”

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open.

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect.

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse.

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?”

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.”

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?”

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you.

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.”

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook.

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?”

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you.

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out.

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.”

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776.

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted.

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is.

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge.

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships.

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar.

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red.

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten.

“You’re running away.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft.

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder.

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.”

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath.

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.”

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.”

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?”

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.”

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple.

“You miss her?”

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“Did you talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix.

“And are you trying to get over him?”

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.”

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.”

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.”

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special?

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?”

“What?”

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.”

“But it works!”

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.”

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.”

“Bumble.”

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help."

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are.

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun.

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.”

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.”

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world.

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours.

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt.

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid.

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all.

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on.

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck.

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room.

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear.

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.”

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo.

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table.

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that.

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination.

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.”

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.”

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question.

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes.

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.”

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.”

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm.

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college.

Or are you?

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine.

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie.

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in.

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out.

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?”

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.”

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids.

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat.

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.”

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.”

“What? I can pay for my own food—”

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?”

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi.

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you.

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint.

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation.

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse.

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?”

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!”

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger.

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once.

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps.

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it.

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck.

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.”

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab.

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers.

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?”

“Since you asked so politely, no.”

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters.

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly.

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly.

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late.

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.”

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.”

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen.

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case.

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.”

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen.

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you.

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.”

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.”

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?”

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room.

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry.

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes.

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper.

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile.

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow.

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom.

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now.

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists.

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine.

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?”

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.”

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey.

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?”

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide.

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?”

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out.

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.”

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?”

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.”

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble.

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?”

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine.

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?”

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare.

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.”

“No—”

“Hand.”

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.”

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back.

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.”

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?”

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?”

“Pizza also sounds good—”

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you.

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.”

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.”

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four.

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones.

“Do I want to know?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.”

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk.

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—”

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!”

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table.

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?”

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment.

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.”

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor.

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?”

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.”

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener.

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message.

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle?

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean?

You: ohmyGOD

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.”

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.”

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.”

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her.

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning.

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.”

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue.

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.”

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late.

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not.

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.”

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—”

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—”

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.”

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.”

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you.

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace.

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon.

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly.

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough?

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets.

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far.

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things.

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled.

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship.

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.”

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night.

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring.

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob.

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.”

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel.

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in.

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it.

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home.

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think.

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open.

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again?

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.”

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?”

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope.

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?”

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding.

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.”

“Only recently,” you frown.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ”

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.”

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?”

“Because I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.”

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!”

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.”

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.”

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—”

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!”

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth.

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow.

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view.

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.”

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?”

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.”

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.”

Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them?

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.”

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins.

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree.

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms.

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not.

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.”

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep.

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall.

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan.

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers.

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?”

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?”

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.”

“But you still love him?”

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered.

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?”

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.”

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?”

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.”

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.”

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides.

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.”

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper.

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between.

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you.

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.”

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.”

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.”

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now.

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries.

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame.

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.”

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter.

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late.

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup.

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?”

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.”

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.”

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?”

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.”

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.”

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday.

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories.

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle.

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story.

“What’cha got there, partner?”

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you.

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?”

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other.

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.”

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.”

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste.

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent.

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.”

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.”

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle.

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.”

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter.

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college.

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.”

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?”

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.”

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.”

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.”

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing.

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently.

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level.

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him.

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM.

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him.

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war.

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser.

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend.

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window.

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave.

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would.

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.”

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.”

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.”

“Huh?”

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?”

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—”

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.”

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list.

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time.

“—coming along?”

“Wha?”

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?”

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—”

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader. “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex.

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands.

“Mean by what?”

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

“Well, we’re here now, right?”

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats.

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present.

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream.

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another.

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook.

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend.

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward.

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance.

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet.

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.”

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.”

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.”

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine.

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread.

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth.

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?”

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout.

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.”

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.”

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy.

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.”

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease.

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases.

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past.

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal.

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.”

“I wish you did, too.”

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side.

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be.

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style.

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries.

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.”

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?”

“Jungkook…”

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!”

“Jungkook—”

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing.

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh.

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish.

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face.

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.”

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.”

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.”

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air.

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.”

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.”

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace.

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.”

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard.

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer.

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.”

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin.

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.”

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage.

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.”

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his.

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking.

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies.

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length.

“Yeah?”

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.”

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.”

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.

“Please, baby.”

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.”

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?”

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy.

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?”

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,”

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey.

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture.

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.”

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more.

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.”

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain.

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!”

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.”

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence.

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits.

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—”

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies.

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—”

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.”

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather.

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other.

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted.

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot.

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?”

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully.

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.”

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt.

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.”

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully.

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom.

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight.

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!”

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!”

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat.

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?”

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.”

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting.

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.”

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?”

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?”

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.”

“Then the hotel room?”

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position.

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?”

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.”

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!”

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants.

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together.

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…”

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love.

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take.

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone.

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.”

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.”

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.”

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.”

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?”

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.”

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.”

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted?

“You know I love you, right?”

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?”

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.”

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.”

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut #a big weight is off my shoulders

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typewrittenluck · 3 years

Text

as the seasons change

C!Technoblade x gn!reader highschool!au

Word Count: 9.1k

Pronouns: they/them

A/N: this is literally so self indulgent, i spent a whole day writing this because im going through my techno feels rn. it basically follows the story of oblivious Y/N and Techno throughout the four seasons :)

Warnings: Underaged drinking, Swearing, Smoking, Drugs (very brief)

Suggested Songs: The State of Grace, Taylor Swift/ MEET ME AT OUR SPOT, THE ANXIETY, WILLOW, Tyler Cole/ that way, Tate McRae/ Falling, Chase Atlantic/ Compass, The Neighborhood

SUMMER------------

The August air was thick with the heat of the almost-setting sun. Her rays beat down on the backs of the group of teens, and mosquitos filled the silences between them with their incessant buzzing.

A small crack of static preceded the soft sound of music, accompanied by the sharp smack of Niki and Jack’s celebratory high-five.

“Didn’t you start setting up the speaker like an hour ago?” questioned Wilbur, who was sunk into a half-broken lawn chair that he had found in the garage.

“Yeah, it would have been much faster if you had asked Techno” chimed Y/N from their place leaning against the above mentioned man’s leg.

His grunt of response was cut short by his little brother, Tommy, bursting into laughter.

“Because he’s TECHno! Get it?!”

Everyone groaned and Wilbur smacked Tommy upside the head, grumbling about “shouldn’t have let you come hang out with us”

Y/N giggled at that, but took sympathy on the boy. “Aww don’t be like that Wil, Tommy, I thought that was hilarious.”

“Don’t encourage him, Y/N” Techno leaned down to murmured to them in his low, monotonous voice.

There it was. The way he said their name! The way his calf felt under Y/N’s back! The way he whispered sentences directly to them, as if it was some closely guarded secret. It was enough to bring butterflies to their stomach as they praised whatever higher being was out there for the heat of the day covering their blush.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Fundy moaned, kicking Wilburs shin from his place lying facedown on the grass. “Can we go to the pool or something?”

His request was met with a spectrum of responses, varying from Tommy’s “YES, PLEASE WILL? PLEASE!” to Technoblades indifferent shrug.

Jack took note of Technoblades open response with a shout of laughter. “TECHNOBLADE IN THE POOL! I WOULD PAY GOOD MON-”

“I’m not getting in, dumbass.”

“Why? Scared you’ll ruin your hair?”

“No, he doesn’t want us to know he’s secretly jacked under the sixteen sweaters he wears.”

Technoblade picked up the hem of his sweatshirt, making eye contact with Niki. She has a point.

“How do you wear that in the Summer?”

“It’s n- TOMMY!!”

Shrieks of laughter follow Tommy’s water gun assault on his brother. “When did he slip away to go get those?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“WHEN ARE WE LEAVING??” Tommy asked enthusiastically.

---

A crowded minivan, a stop to pick up Tommy’s friend, and a raid of Phil’s linen closet for pool towels later, the group arrived at the neighborhood pool. The sun hung low in the horizon as people spilled out of Phil’s van and began dragging the pool toys and water guns towards the gate.

The air around the black metal bars barring their entrance to the pool seemed to quiver.

“I think Wil has the pool key.” piped Niki in response to Fundy throwing his weight against the fence.

Fundy, in turn, sprinted back to the car, where Wilbur was taking inventory of snacks (and probably hiding the best for himself).

Technoblade looked down at the two younger boys and Y/N conversing in hushed whispers. All of a sudden, they screamed out in perfect synchronization, in equally high pitched voices,

“Let me innnn! Let me in pleaseeee!”

And promptly burst into giggles. Y/N almost toppled into Techno, both from laughing and the slight weariness from the heat.

The pool noodles he was balancing beneath his arms (laden with tote bags of pool toys and towels) toppled to the ground, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Y/N’s hand steadying themself on his chest, and the way his face began to heat up almost unbearably considering the weather.

“Oops, sorry!” they squeaked, leaning down to pick up the fallen noodles.

Technoblade was burst out of his daze by the return of his brother and Fundy, who triumphantly swiped the access card against the pad before kicking the gate wide open.

The clang of metal against the concrete pool clubhouse sent reverberating waves into the air, and everyone winced as the metal continued to drag.

Pool entrances varied, Niki, on the one hand, took her time tip-toeing into the water by the stairs, while Tubbo and Tommy almost knocked each other out crashing over the edge to the deep end.

Y/N chuckled at their antics, but seeing as they had settled on not getting wet today, they picked out a chaise in the shade and pulled a book and pen out of the small bag they had brought with them.

Technoblade watched them with almost unwavering interest, unless someone happened to look his way, in which case he would quickly turn back to his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his home screen until they turned away.

From his spot under the little roof of the clubhouse, he had an almost unobstructed view of Y/N, and how they chewed at the end of the pen they used to annotate their book. Oh how he wished he could read the little notes they scribbled in the margins, or the drawings they would surround words with when they got distracted from reading. And the way that pen dangled from their lips, their tantalizing, soft lips. Taunting him, almost. And their jewel-like, bright eyes. Always so inviting and playful; like the way they were meeting his right now-

Shit

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring that intently. A small quirk of their eyebrow and a smirk on their lips was enough to make his heart give out. But not now. Not when they were waving their hand so intently to get him to sit next to them. Pretending to ponder the decision and gather his belongings, (when in reality he was just collecting his bearings), he walked over to them.

“See! You don’t always want to be alone, Mr. I’m so antisocial and I hate everyone!” they smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

You’re the only exception, he thought, his brain screaming and pushing to let the words leave his mouth. He couldn’t though, not when they could never think of him the way that he thought of them.

So he answered with a small smile and a chuckle.

“What are you reading?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray! Remember you said you thought I’d enjoy it?” they answered with enthusiasm, that sparkle still evident in their eyes.

It warmed his heart to know that they had taken the suggestion and committed to the book, which was admittedly a pretty tough read, because of him.

“How could I forget?”

Their smile widened and they buried their head back in the book, that cursed pen once again being squished between their plush lips.

Technoblade peered over their shoulder to see that they were nearing the middle of the book, where Dorian returns from his theater date with Basil and Henry. Feeling satisfied enough that they were invested in the story, given their gasp and furious scribbling in the margins, he felt it safe enough to stare at them under the orange-tinged glow of the sunset.

Of course, he forgot about the crowd of his friends who were nudging each other and whispering about his infatuation with you. The whispers reached Wilbur who narrowed his eyes in his twin's direction and made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Once dark hit and the water began to run a little too cold for anyone's taste, they began to wrap themselves up in towels and raid Wilburs snack stashes. The snack distribution was cut off by Wilburs phone, screen lit up with a zoomed in photo of none other than Philza.

DADZA!!! Read the contact name as Wilbur swiped the screen and held the phone between his shoulder and ear, continuing to hand out snacks.

“OI, where in fucks sake are you lot? It’s an hour past the devils ass why i…”

The rest of Phil’s screaming faded as Wilbur walked away to calm his father down.

“AN HOUR PAST THE DEVILS ASS” Y/N screamed with laughter, sending the entire group into raucous peals of giggles.

“Yep, mhhm, we’ll be there” Wilbur walked back towards the group, motioning for everyone to get in the car.

“Yes dad I know, yes, okay we will drop him off. Okay, bye” Hanging up the phone, he ushered people back into the car, holding Tubbo back by his upper arm so that he could sit with easiest access to the door.

After dropping Tubbo off, and then doubling back and driving around town to drop people off at various houses, Technoblade, Tommy and Wilbur were alone in the car with Y/N.

“Here. Here. WIL! Pull over!”

The van screeched to a halt as Y/N clambered over Tommy’s long legs, almost falling out onto the pavement. They leaned against the door of the passenger seat, thanking Wilbur and bidding farewell to the brothers. Just before they stepped away, Technoblade leaned down and kissed the crown of their head where it was leaning against his open window. Their stunned expression was lost in the dark and the window slid shut as Wilbur slammed the gas pedal to make it back in time before his dad’s curfew.

“What the fuck was that”

Technoblade gave him a glare, which lost its effectiveness when paired with the burning red blush flooding his face and neck, highlighted under the harsh white lights of the car. He turned his face away and resigned to staring out the window, the night air filtering through the small crack giving his face a little bit of relief.

“Okay at least tell me, are you together?”

“No.”

“But he likes them!” piped up Tommy from the back seat, looking up from his phone where he was playing a game.

“No I- I don’t” Damnit The crack in his voice gave it away.

Wilbur, sensing that it seemed to be more of a sensitive topic than he thought, decided to drop the subject for the time being, and Tommy was already absorbed back in his game.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence as they raced against time and the rules of Philza Minecraft.

AUTUMN----------------------

School started a few weeks after the pool night, which was followed by many late nights and summer fun by the friends, the knowledge that half of them would be away to college next year heavy in the atmosphere. To say the least, Junior year was not treating Y/N well. They were almost always working on homework, if not doing SAT prep, and they rarely went out with their friends. The only time Technoblade got to see them was during his AP Lit class, and because of it, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world. Ms. Ren’s Literature classroom was the only place Technoblade seemed to see the old Y/N, the one from over the summer who got enthusiastic over books and gave him playful punches when he was a little too mean to their friends. Now, the only Y/N he saw was a stressed, tired person who was always carrying an energy drink in one hand and a stack of homework in the other. Except for in Lit. Y/n’s eyes would brighten as they discussed the reading from the previous night and their legs would jostle Technoblades from under their shared table to show him an annotation they had made. Technoblade assumed they were just rejuvenated from the literature, never once letting the thought cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, he was part of the equation too.

On the rare occasion that they would hang out with their friends, they would be easily prone to tears and every conversation would be redirected to how tired and stressed they were. Of course, Technoblade wanted them to be happy, and felt enormous empathy for his friend in the harshest year of high school, but he had suddenly become hyper-aware that the clock was ticking on his time left with them. He was a senior this year, and while Y/N still had a year left to go, Technoblade would be on his way to college, perhaps out of the country, in less than a year. It wasn’t wrong to want to make the most of his time with them.

It didn’t help that this internal time bomb was also counting down the opportunities he had left to tell them how he felt.

-----

He decided to get to them when they were in a good mood, and more likely to say yes. After Ms. Ren had finished assigning the reading due by Monday, he turned to the beautiful person who sat next to him and muttered in a low voice,

“How’s your weekend looking?”

They looked up with a bright smile and whispered back

“I have tons of homework but I should be able to knock it out with a good day of work. Why? What do you have in mind?”

He knew this was the right time to ask you.

“Just be ready by 4pm on Saturday.”

----

Technoblade sat on the edge of his usually neat bed, now strewn with almost every sweater he owned. He was picking a stray piece of lint from the sweater nearest to him when he saw his brother walk past, then backtrack out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s got you all indecisive?” Wilbur asked, gesturing vaguely to the sweaters and random articles of clothing adorning his room.

“Wait! Is today your date with Y/N?”

“It’s not a date.” grumbled Technoblade.

“Then why are you so stressed about what to wear?” he replied with raised eyebrows.

Technoblade groaned and threw himself on top of the pile of wool on his bed. “I just need this to be perfect. Y/N needs a break, and they deserve everything to be just right.”

“And you want to impress them” sang Wilbur, now nudging Techno aside to sift through his sweaters.

Technoblades noise of indignation was muffled as Wilbur threw a cream colored sweatshirt at his face.

“What about this?”

“I couldn’t find what to wear it with.”

Wilburs sigh rang through Technoblades room as he opened the closet, now in his proper mindset as the family fashion consultant. Garment after garment was thrown in Techno’s general direction, and he leaned and reached to grab them all.

“Try that”

Technoblade walked out of the bathroom to find Wilbur rummaging through his jewelry.

“When did I say it was fine for you to go through my stuff?” asked Technoblade, shoving Wilbur away. Wilbur shrugged in response, motioning for Techno to open his hand so that he could drop his selection of rings and necklaces into his open palm.

As Wilbur walked out the door, he thought he heard a faint “thank you”, and smiled to himself.

-----

“This is elaborate”

“I’m a dynamic man Y/N.”

Y/N laughed at his response to the back seat of Technoblades car, which was filled with “supplies” for the evening.

“That outfit sure is dynamic.”

“Why?” Technoblade asked nervously, drumming slightly on the steering wheel. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! I didn’t think you could get any hotter but you somehow pulled it off!”

Realizing what they said, Y/N’s cheeks flushed a deep red and they began to pick at their flannel. As soon as Technoblades surprise wore off, and the butterflies faded back to the dull sensation that always seemed to linger when he was around them, he let out a snort of laughter. That sent both of them into a fit which continued until Technoblade hit a pothole from laughing so hard.

Y/N’s momentary fear only made them laugh harder, but Technoblade attempted to quell himself before he no longer had four functioning tires.

“Do I get to know where you’re taking me?” Y/N asked. They had driven a little ways out from the city, to the vaguely familiar areas that one only drives by when they’re leaving town.

“Yes.” He replied, slowing the car into a small parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

The pair entered the small bookshop and a bell rang overhead. The store smelled of dust and books and Technoblade saw Y/N breathing the scent in like a breath of new life. Of course, this ended up in a small coughing fit which he pulled them out of with a few pats to their upper back.

“Okay we are on somewhat of a schedule, so I need you to go get a book. Any book, and meet me back at the register in 10 minutes.” He said, grabbing them by the shoulders and making direct eye contact. “Okay, Go!”

And they both got lost in the mazes of words.

At 4:30 sharp, Y/N found Technoblade waiting for them at the register with a stiff red hardcover. He reached out for their book as they reached for their wallet.

“Tech, no, you don’t have to buy me books I can get it myself”

If for nothing else, the way they shortened the already shortened version of his name made his heart stutter, and he was overcome with the sudden urge to buy them every book in this store. But he wordlessly nodded his head ‘no’ and paid for their two books.

As they walked back to the car, Y/N admired the way his jewelry glistened in the sun. The gold necklaces contrasting against the black turtleneck he wore under his sweatshirt made them think of the summer, when his rings would shine under the sun and in the light of their almost nightly group bonfire. Technoblade opened the door for them when they got to the car, pink hair flying in his face because of the wind. Before getting in, Y/N threw their arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thanks”

They mumbled into his neck.

He blamed his pink cheeks on the cold.

-----

“Let me carry something!” Y/N argued as Technoblade led them down the path of a park a little ways away from the bookstore.

“No.” he answered, a basket and three bags dangling from his arms.

The argument continued as they made their way down the paved path, leaves crunching underneath their feet. A little ways into the walk, when the conversation had faded to discussing the latest reading assigned by Ms. Ren, Technoblade stopped Y/N by throwing a tote bag-laden arm against their chest.

“Here.”

He parted the branches that covered a small, unpaved path that led deeper into the trees.

“How do I know you’re not trying to lure me here to kill me?” mused Y/N, already a few steps ahead of the pink-haired man on the pine-straw path.

“Yeah hold on, let me just get my axe out from this basket real quick” deadpanned Technoblade, earning a giggle from Y/N.

A few moments later, the path opened up to a clearing with a few fallen logs and a small brook trickling near the edge.

“This is beautiful Tech! How did you find this?” they asked with an awestruck expression.

He hid the way that his ears flushed with his hair and busied himself laying out the picnic supplies he had dragged all the way out here, mumbling something unintelligible.

Once he was done, he looked up to find an empty clearing, Y/N nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?” he called

He received a response in the form of a small yelp and a rather loud splash. “Over here!”

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, sprinting over to the edge of the stream. Their giggles calmed him a little bit, but didn’t absolve him of all his worry as he subtly looked them over for any injuries.

“I thought the rock would be steady enough to hold me” they pouted, gesturing vaguely at the rock in question, now shiny with water.

Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at their antics, but hoisted them up nonetheless. Once they were back on solid ground, he curled his finger around the back of his sweatshirt's neckline and pulled it over his head, almost knocking off his glasses in the process. He missed the way Y/N’s eyes narrowed and focused on the way his black knit turtleneck hugged his figure, tucked into the dark brown trousers Wilbur had dug out of his closet just hours previously.

“Are you warm?” asked Y/N with an incredulous look, teeth slightly chattering.

“It’s for you, dumbass. You’re almost sure to get sick in those wet clothes.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered at the gesture, and at the way Technoblade shushed them when they tried to argue.

He turned away as Y/N shed their dripping flannel and replaced it with the sweatshirt, warmed by his own body heat.

When he turned back, he almost lost his breath again. Seeing them in his sweatshirt, the sleeves dangling past their fingertips and their hair a little tousled from pulling the garment over their head, messed with him just a little bit. He ignored the way that his cold-nipped nose was turning redder and redder and instead gently picked up their hand to guide them over to where he had set up the picnic, next to a towering tree with a thick trunk.

Both of them were hyper-aware of the way that his fingers held theirs, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from their touch. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but as they plopped down onto the picnic blanket sitting on the ground, their grip fell apart.

The loss of contact made the October day seem colder.

The muffled crunching of the leaves under their butts filled the air as they settled into a comfortable position and began digging through the picnic basket Technoblade had brought with food. The tension in the air slowly faded as they began to eat and the atmosphere filled with the joyous conversation of the two painfully oblivious teenagers.

When they had both finished eating, Technoblade pulled out the bag that he had brought from the bookstore and handed Y/N their book. The smile that graced their lips as they mumbled out another ‘thank you’ brought another wave of butterflies down Technoblades stomach. He pulled out his own book and made himself comfortable against the thick tree trunk behind him. Y/N reached into their back pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen, the cap of the pen riddled with chew marks.

The damn pen.

They stuck it between their teeth and let it hang off of the right side of their mouth. Technoblade felt his chest heat up as they nudged him over to share his spot leaning against the tree. He opened his phone and hit play on a mix of Arctic Monkeys and Gang of Youths, before leaning back to where his shoulder was pressed with theirs and opened his book.

Time seemed to forget its rules in this quiet little forest, with just Y/N and Technoblade lost in their separate worlds of words. The peace was only ever disturbed by Y/N occasionally scribbling something down in the margin of their book, to which Technoblade would demand to see, and they would fall into a small discussion about the topic.

These occasions slowly began to wane off until Technoblade felt Y/N lean their head against him with a thud. He looked down to see them fast asleep, half leaning on his shoulder with the pen still clutched between their fingers. He took note of the way the pen was balanced like a cigarette and the small puffs of air following their cold breath resembled smoke. Ignored the way his heart was almost convulsing on itself, he chose to wrap his arm around them and savour the moment.

Because he was aware that before he knew it, it would be over.

WINTER---------------------------

The student media center had a hushed atmosphere to it, as people took advantage of their last afternoon to study for semester finals. Winter break would let out the next day, but for the overwhelmed Juniors and Seniors now crowding the library, the excitement would not set in until they quelled their nervousness over the last final of the semester.

One of the study rooms situated in the back was now crowded with the notorious friend group as they crammed for their last final. Fundy, Jack and Niki were trading around their history notes, Wilbur and Minx were arguing over the proper situation of a unit circle, and Technoblade was flash quizzing Y/N on the Polyatomic ions. Their frantic studying was interrupted by their friend, George, who had gotten bored of watching his two best friends during their last football practice of the semester. He quietly walked in and took a seat in the corner, pulling out a notebook and studying something or the other.

“Why aren't Dream and Sapnap here cramming with us?” Minx asked George.

“They have their ‘weightlifting’ final tomorrow” seethed George, most likely jealous of his friends’ somewhat pointless final.

Everyone laughed, and some groans of similar jealousy rang through the air right before the cracking loudspeaker of the school crunched to life, announcing that the doors would close at 6:00. Y/N looked down at their watch face, which read 5:45.

“Fuck, I’m never going to learn these charges! Don’t even get me started on the fact that I don’t have the solubility rules memorized!” squeaked Y/N in frustration. Everyone gave them a sympathetic look, knowing the rigorous emotional and mental demands of taking AP Chemistry.

“Don’t worry, you still have the whole night to study!” consoled Fundy.

Technoblade felt his heart break at the way their eyes filled with tears of frustration.

“My siblings scream way too much, I can never concentrate at home”

“Come study at our house!” exclaimed Wilbur. “We can kick Tommy out so he won’t bother you!”

Wilbur sensed their hesitation and cut in before they could say ‘no’

“Come on, Dad won’t mind, he loves you! And it gives us an excuse to send Tommy out!”

Y/N turned their head in questioning to Technoblade, who grunted and nodded his head.

“I mean, if you’re sure”

Eager nodding.

“Thanks so much Wil!”

---

It was 11:50 and Phil’s living room resembled something closer to an FBI clue board, with flashcards and chemistry notes strewn on every possible surface. Wilbur had retired to bed after reviewing his Calculus notes one last time, and Tommy was spending the night at Tubbo’s. Phil leaned against the doorway and watched his son coach his best friend through the last few chapters of the textbook with a smile on his face.

“Make sure not to go to sleep too late! You need enough sleep for your final!” he called, retreating up the stairs.

Y/N checked their watch and sighed at the time. “I should get going soon.” they mumbled, beginning to collect their notes.

“Stay the night” suggested Technoblade, pulling a blanket over their shoulders to protect them from the December chill that seemed ever-present, even with the crackling fireplace illuminating the room.

“I can’t-” A yawn cut their sentence “I can’t stay, I don't have anything and I’ve wasted enough of your time already”

Technoblade took them by the shoulders and looked them in the eyes, albeit having to lean down. “You can never waste my time”

Shivers ran through Y/N’s tired body and they offered him a weak smile.

He plucked the pen that was hanging from their mouth out and feigned disgust as he wiped it on their shirt, before throwing it in the pile of stationary by his feet.

“How about you stay for a hot chocolate?”

The invitation was too hard to resist so they gave in, as long as it was “only ten more minutes”.

Technoblade filled two mugs from the pot of the beverage that Phil had left on the stove, and topped it with marshmallows and whipped cream.

Y/N took the mug from him with a ‘thank you!’, and led the way back to the living room to nestle under the warmth of the fireplace. The pair were both exhausted from the day of studying, and chose to sip their beverages in silence. Before either of them knew it, they were both asleep under Y/N’s blanket, cuddled up against the cold of the night.

---

They woke up to the banging of Wilbur running down the stairs.

“Shit, you two are still asleep?”

Y/N jumped up, knocking over their empty mug in the process. “Fuck, what time is it?” they asked, urgently rummaging around for their bag.

“8:00”

“What time is your final?” grumbled Technoblade, still half-asleep with no intention to get up until his final later that day.

“8:20” they whined, almost breaking down.

“Hey, it’s fine, go get clothes from my room, take anything you want. I’ll drive you.” said Technoblade in a calming voice.

Y/N looked at him with desperate eyes and thanked him before retracing the familiar path to his bedroom.

Technoblade cracked his back and followed Wilbur into the kitchen, intending to make Y/N a nutritious breakfast and pack them a lunch, but was met with Wilburs smirking face.

“What’s the deal?” said Technoblade in his monotonous low, pulling things from out of the fridge.

“Are we going to ignore that you and Y/N slept together?”

“Gross you perv, we just fell asleep studying”

Wilburs smart-ass response was cut off by the arrival of the person in question, clad in one of Technoblades sweaters and sweatpants and ripping their fingers through their hair to attempt to tame it.

Technoblade ignored the all-too-familiar flutter of his heart at seeing them in his clothes and handed them a yogurt bowl he put together. “Let’s go, you can eat it in the car.”

They definitely broke laws driving at breakneck speed, but they pulled into the school parking lot at 8:15 and jumped out of the car, Technoblade following them to make sure they made it to the Chemistry classroom on time. With a minute and a half to spare, they arrived at the door to the classroom, earning a sigh of relief from both of them.

Dr. Yachtrong ushered Y/N into the classroom, but not before Technoblade placed a kiss on their forehead and wished them good luck. They entered the classroom in a daze, which they quickly shook off when the tests were passed out.

---

The final bell rang for the day and the cheers rang around the school, drowning out the crunchy loudspeaker announcements to “have a good Christmas” and to “make good decisions”. Y/N had headed off to their last few classes following the Chemistry final, which had gone as good as one could expect a Chemistry exam to go. They were fairly sure they had passed which at this point, was a major win. As they left the History hallway, they saw their friend Karl leaving the art classroom.

“Karl!” they waved him down.

“HEY! Y/N!!!” he giggled excitedly “Schools out!”

“I know!”

Excited chatter filled the hallways and they bumped into Sapnap, Punz, and Dream leaving the weights room.

“How was your weightlifting final?” snickered Y/N

Punz answered with a slight push to their head. The group was shot out at the front courtyard, where almost all of their other friends were waiting.

The celebratory mood was punctuated by Karl inviting everyone over for an “Epic School Sucks Party” at his house later that night.

Y/N looked around, searching for the pink-haired man that had been flooding their thoughts more than usual lately.

He had been acting differently, nervous even, since the day they fell asleep on him at the park. Y/N was only scared last night's incident would make it worse.

“He’s probably finishing up his Latin stuff” murmured Wilbur, leaning down to their ear.

Y/N’s ears burnt a bright red upon knowing that Wilbur knew who they were looking for. They looked up to answer, but he had already gotten immersed in a conversation with Quackity and George.

The man in question came out of the front doors of the building and made a beeline for their cluster of people upon seeing them. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the cuffs he wore on his slightly pointed ears, and the way his long pink hair fell behind his-

“Oi Y/N is that Technoblades sweater?”

Screw you Minx

“Y/N spent a surprise night over last night” snickered Wilbur, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It's. Not. Like. That.” screeched Y/N, punctuating each word with a smack to Wilbur, somewhat drowned in the laughs and gasps of everyone in their group.

“Why are we hitting Wilbur and can I join?” asked Technoblade once he integrated himself into the tangle of people. The laughs hushed as everyone turned to look between Y/N and Technoblade.

“What?”

-----

The heat of Niki’s curling iron sent warm shivers down Y/N’s neck, a grateful contrast to the harsh December chill plaguing the outdoors. She blew gently on the warm hair before letting it all fall back, tousling it to break up the curls.

“Thanks Niki!” said Y/N gratefully, examining themselves in the mirror. “You’re going to have to teach me how to do this someday.”

Niki laughed, already standing in front of the bathroom mirror to apply her eyeliner. With one eye closed, she spoke to the person now standing behind her, checking their outfit from different angles.

“So really, what’s going on between you and Technoblade?”

She knew of their intense crush on the pink-haired boy, which had started somewhere between 8th grade and freshman year, but she also knew that Y/N tended to be more closed off about their deep personal life.

Y/N sighed, almost in disappointment. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”

Due to Niki’s sympathetic look thrown their way, they fell down a rabbit hole of ranting which led them to where they were now; on the floor beside Niki’s bed with Y/N’s head in her lap.

“He always acts so weird around me. One minute he’s holding my hand or kissing my forehead, and the next he won't even look at me, or only answers in short sentences. And it stresses me out because I think he hates me, but then he does shit like buying me books just to go read in a forest with him, or staying up all night with me to study for my Chemistry final, and I just-” They took a deep breath, containing their rambling.

“I just get more confused.”

----------

Karls party was in full swing by the time Niki and Y/N got there. They were met at the door by Sapnap and Quackity, who for some reason were handcuffed to each other, and were both giggling and flushed. Y/N and Niki hung their coats on the rack by the door and walked into the festive atmosphere of the house, seeing familiar faces in every corner.

Despite the rowdy environment and the deafening noise, the party was relatively small, consisting of only 20 or so of Karls friends.

They followed Quackity and Sapnap into the living room where a semi-circle of people was lounging on various couches, passing around a blunt and playing what seemed to be truth or dare.

Ah. That’s where the handcuffs came from.

Niki and Y/N decided to play, Niki offering to go fetch them both drinks in the kitchen as Y/N found their place in the circle. To their surprise, Technoblade was there, seemingly uninterested in the game and more invested in something he was doing on his phone. Upon seeing Y/N, he gave them a smile, cheeks flushed with alcohol, and gestured to the small spot between him and the couch armrest. All eyes followed Y/N as they perched on the armrest, mumbling a small ‘hi!’ to Technoblade.

Niki returned with two drinks in hand and shared a knowing glance with Y/N, as well as a miniscule smile, before handing them their drink and taking a seat on a cushion next to Jack and Minx.

“Okay okay, In honor of our new guests arriving, Y/N, truth or dare?”

Y/N knew by the looks everyone was giving them that choosing truth would not be the best option.

“Dare.”

A small sigh of disappointment left Karls lips before a mischievous light came into his eyes and he perked up again. “I dare you to sit in Technoblade’s lap”

Snickers echoed across the group as Technoblade looked up at the sound of his name. He looked up to where Y/N was balancing themself on the edge of the couch, and with some burst of courage, that was probably induced by the alcohol, he wrapped his arm around their waist to tug them into his lap with a squeak of surprise.

After recovering from their initial embarrassment, Y/N turned to the man whose lap they were in. “Techno, truth or dare?”

He huffed but quietly breathed out “Truth”, suddenly very aware of how close their face was to his. After a few brief seconds of eye contact which seemed to last an eternity, they stuttered out

“Umm, do you,- actually, how did, how did they get you to play? This game... I mean?”

“BOO! WHAT A BORING FOOKIN QUESTION!” called Minx from the cushion she was on.

His response of how he didn’t mean to get dragged in to this “stupid middle schoolers game” was slightly slurred as he took a big chug of whatever liquid was floating around his red solo cup.

This worried Y/N. They never saw Technoblade drink more than enough to get him slightly tipsy, but they brushed it off on end-of-the-semester excitement. In any case, they would confront him when they got the opportunity to talk to him alone.

---

Said opportunity arose after the Pizza arrived, and most people began to file into Karls movie room to watch whatever garbage show he decided on running. Y/N stayed back, intending to have full access to the pizza and Technoblade, noticing this, stayed with them. Y/N hopped up onto a counter and pulled the pizza boxes to them.

“Hey Tech?”

“Heh?”

“Are you okay? I haven't seen you drink this much before?” they asked, running a concerned hand through his hair before pressing it to his forehead to check how hot he was.

His eyes closed and he nuzzled into their touch.

“I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about? It’s winter break” they answered, a small smile on their beautiful face.

This was his chance.

“I have to start applying for colleges.”

Fuck, he missed it.

-----

The food brought a new bought of energy to everyone at the party, and by 3 in the morning, the celebration was still heavy in the air. Everyone thanked whatever brought Karl’s parents to buy a house far removed from any close neighborhoods, so the noise wouldn’t earn them a police visit.

Loud music blared from the speakers in the living room, which had been cleared of furniture to make space for the energetic teenagers.

Y/N took turns dancing with Niki, Minx, and Jack before being stolen away by Sapnap who spun them around until they almost threw up. Eventually, Y/N ended up on the outskirts of the dancefloor, where they saw their favorite apathetic pig-boy leaning against a corner, snickering at everyone who was embarrassing themselves in their drunken haze.

“WANNA DANCE?” asked Y/N leaning towards him to enunciate over the music.

How could he say no? When they were looking up at him with those big, bright eyes and a slight sheen of sweat over their face.

-----

The party began to dissipate nearing the hours of dawn. Around 5, people began trickling out. Except for the select few who had decided to just crash with Karl.

Technoblade and Wilbur parked a little ways away from their house, walking the rest of the way and ushering each other up the tree by Wilburs bedroom to sneak back in.

It was locked.

“You dimwit, didn’t you unlock the window?”

“Of course I did you arse, where do you think I snuck out from?”

Their bickering was interrupted by a small tap on the glass by none other than a smirking Tommy.

“Leave it to him to only wake up when he wants to annoy us”

“Tommy, let us in.”

Tommy made a rubbing motion with his index finger and thumb. Looking at Wilbur and sighing, Technoblade pulled his wallet out and held up a 10.

Tommy made a ‘more’ motion

20. Then 40. Then 50.

“So generous of you lads, come on in!” he giggled, snatching the money from his brother and leaving the window open for the two to clamber in awkwardly.

Technoblade snuck back into his room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and falling onto the mattress. Before he blacked out, he saw two notifications come in.

BitchBur: I took these pictures tn, thought u might want them ;) (8 images attached)

And

Y/N <3: I hope you figure out the college situation! <3 let me know if you can hang out sometime :D

He opened Wilburs text to find a collection of candid pictures Wilbur had snapped over the course of the night. One of Y/N in his lap, a few of them laughing together over pizza, a few of them on the dance floor, and what had to be his favorite: a picture of them kissing his cheek as a ‘good luck’ for his arm wrestle with Dream.

A smile creeped onto his face and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his brother. He set the last picture as his wallpaper before turning off his phone and falling into a realm of blackness.

SPRING------------------

“That was my very last AP Exam!” exclaimed Y/N, walking through the door of the coffee house where all their friends were lounging.

The small shop erupted with cheers as they celebrated everyone finishing their school year. The cheers eventually died out, though, as the realization sunk in. Tomorrow was graduation.

The seniors in the group, Wilbur, Technoblade, Minx and Fundy were all going off to college.

Wilbur to England, Fundy to the Netherlands, and Minx to Ireland. The one person who hadn’t decided on a college yet was Technoblade.

“Why do you all have to leave the country?” whined Y/N.

A chorus of similar sentiments left the other juniors who were scattered around a few tables that had been pushed together.

As the conversation descended into dorms and expenses, Y/N received a text from Technoblade. The shock of the ‘ding’ made the pen that had been balancing between their lips clatter onto the floor.

Apathetic pig-boy: come outside

Y/N looked around, not having noticed that Technoblade had disappeared from the table. Taking advantage of the conversation everyone else was immersed in, they quietly snuck out, but not without avoiding Wilburs keen eyes, which narrowed upon realizing his brother was not at the table.

They wandered outside, finding Technoblade sitting at one of the outdoor tables covered by the awning.

“My Yale email came in.” he said as soon as he saw them walk outside.

They jumped with barely contained joy. “What did it say?”

“I wanted you to be here when I opened it.”

Everyone knew that Technoblades dream college was Yale. He had talked about it ever since he was a little kid, screaming about Greek mythology on the school playground. Y/N knew that it was Technoblades biggest ambition to study literature at one of the most renowned colleges in the world, but they still felt a twinge of sadness. On top of losing half their friends, they couldn’t lose the one person that meant the most to them too.

“Open it!”

Y/N leaned against the back of Technoblades chair, almost falling over his shoulder as they watched the loading icon on the college’s website.

Technoblade clicked on the notification and they both read it together

Congratulations! We are glad to inform you…

“THAT YALE UNIVERSITY HAS DECIDED TO ACCEPT YOUR APPLICATION! TECH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Screamed Y/N, wrapping their arms around his shocked figure. They placed a million kisses all over his face, gushing about how proud they were of him, ignoring the gut wrenching feeling inside of them.

“What’s the screaming about? Did you two finally get together?” Asked Wilbur as the group flooded out of the coffee shop to see what the commotion was about.

“Yale accepted me.” mumbled Technoblade, just loud enough for them to hear.

The cheers that followed his announcement almost made their small hometown collapse. Congratulations were exchanged and backs were pat, and in the mess, Y/N managed to sneak off to the side. The only person who noticed was Niki, who followed them to the corner of the parking lot where they were kicking at the asphalt with their converse. She sat down, and the two rested in silence, the April wind blowing their hair all over the place.

“He’s leaving.” He’s leaving me. They wanted to say, but they didn't.

Niki gave her friend a small side hug, somehow interpreting the sentence accurately. “He’s pursuing his dreams Y/N, you know he doesn’t want to leave you.”

“How do I make him stay? It’s selfish and I’d feel like a bitch but Niki I don’t think I can live without him.”

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“You need to tell him how you feel.”

----

The next day brought sunny skies and the enthusiastic atmosphere of graduation. They had all managed to snag themselves some graduation tickets to see their friends finish high school.

Jack, Niki, and Y/N were sitting in a Wendy’s parking lot, waiting for the clock to hit 11:45 so they could start making their way to school. It seemed empty without the Seniors of the group, as they were all at school getting ready for the ceremony. Y/N voiced this concern aloud, to which Jack responded, “We’ll have to get used to it. This is how it’s going to be next year.”

And the three fell into silence, sullenly dipping their fries into their frostys.

----

Jack, Niki, and Y/N let themselves be jostled into school with the crowds of emotional parents and kids who were already bored of the event. They found decent seats, near the front aisle and set their belongings down.

Not a moment later, they were greeted by Philza, who filed in with the rest of the boys extended family to sit beside them.

The dimming of the lights led to hushed whispers erupting from the previously rowdy crowd.

Procedure came and went, the salutatorian and valedictorian giving their respective addresses to the crowd, the speech of the somewhat bored principal, and finally,

“Without further ado, presenting the Graduating Class of 2021!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd as names began to be called.

Within the first five minutes, the boredom began to set in and Jack began a game pigeon game, which Phil demanded to be added to. The four played the digital card game until they were pulled out of their concentration by a familiar name being called. They erupted into cheers as Fundy walked across the stage to pick up his diploma and shake the Principal’s hand. The process was repeated until Minx, her eyes shining as she shook the principal's hand earnestly, then flipped him off quickly behind his back, which sent the auditorium into a fit of laughter.

Person after person was called up, until...

“Technoblade Minecraft”

Philza almost cried. He stood on his chair, screaming in excitement for his son which made the boy in question flush as he collected his diploma and took a rather rushed leave off the stage, but not before seeing the heart that Y/N made with their fingers in his direction.

The same general act happened during Wilburs announcement, except that he laughed and gave his dad a cheering motion with his hands.

---

The group spilled out onto the lawn of the school, congratulating people they knew when they saw them. Technoblade and Wilbur joined their family, receiving hugs from a very emotional Tommy. Y/N, Niki, and Jack waited behind for their friends to finish up with their families before tackling them in hugs. Screams and whoops came from the puddle of people on the floor, everyone yelling things to each other. The atmosphere was charged with happiness, and relief, and one couldn’t help but feel elation despite the bittersweet nature of graduation.

“Alright mates, party at my house!” boomed Philza over the noise.

The infamous graduation party. They had planned the two-part party in middle school, when they had had their first sleepover at the group's “hub”, aka Philza’s house. Since then, the party had become a reality and the first part would be executed tonight. The next being, of course, when the remaining half of the group graduated.

A marquis was set up in Phil’s garden, now uncluttered and full of spring blossoms. It was such a different atmosphere than it had been last summer, when their bonfires would stretch out into the early hours of the morning.

Food laden tables were scattered around the marquis, and to everyone's delight, a chocolate fountain rested on one of them.

After collecting food and gifts from various guests, the group found themselves sitting under the shade of a large tree with a rickety old treehouse balancing on it, which Tommy and Tubbo were attempting to devise a plan to get into with the help of their friend Ranboo, who didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the idea as the others.

“My flight leaves next week.” sighed Minx, leaning against Niki’s shoulder.

“I’ll be out of here by July the latest”

“Phil’s taking us to London next week and I’ll just be staying”

Everyone turned to Technoblade to reveal when he would be leaving for college.

“I’m going to Connecticut a week before the beginning of the term”

“So how long will you be home this summer?” Y/N asked, setting down their cookie.

“Between travelling and dorm set-up, I’ll probably only be here for about two weeks total.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as they pushed their head into Technoblades chest.

“I just-” sniffle “I just can’t believe you’re all leaving!” they cried, muffled by Technoblades button down.

This sent everyone into a fit of tears as they all began hugging each other for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

The moment was interrupted by Phil, who came out of the house with a camera and various props. Encouraging everyone to gather around and take pictures. Everyone scuffled around to fix their disheveled appearances and began making their way to Phils makeshift photo booth.

“Tech- wait!” called Y/N, pulling him back by the forearm. “Your hair”

They put pressure on his shoulders to get him to lean down so that they could fix his stray hairs.

Right then, looking at the way Y/N’s shoes sank into the ground and feeling their light touch in his hair, he decided. I have to tell them. This is my last chance.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I-” deep breaths, “I need you to-”

“Come on, lovebirds get in the picture!” called Phil, walking over to drag them to where everyone else was.

Y/N gave him an apologetic look, woven with the silent promise of later.

Damnit Dad.

----

The pictures had lasted what felt like eons, but between the corny props and the harsh afternoon sunlight, they held valuable memories.

But Technoblade had no interest in them at the moment, as he dragged Y/N behind the trunk of the tree they had sat at before.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves made Y/N’s face all that much more beautiful, and Technoblade struggled to tear his attention away to focus on telling them. He gathered up his courage and opened his mouth to speak.

But the only thing that came out was “OW!”

As a pinecone bonked off his head and rolled away on the ground, leaving chips of it in his hair.

“Look out below!” Called Tubbo from somewhere above them. So they managed to get in. Damnit.

Y/N took his hand and led him to the other side of the tree, away from the boys’ field of destruction. They sat down gently, pulling Technoblade down with them to pluck the pieces of pinecone out of his hair.

“Here. Distraction free! Now tell me what you’ve been trying to say because there’s something I need to tell you too.”

That gave Technoblade the perfect opportunity to gather his nerves. “You go first”

“No, it’s fine you!”

“No you go!”

It seemed as if the stars had collided and sent out particles so many eons ago with the knowledge that everything would lead up to these two kids coming to the same conclusion at the same time.

“I love you”

Their eyes met as they stared, wide-eyed and gaping-mouthed at each other. Overcoming the initial shock, they began to ramble.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way because you always got quiet around me and then you woul-”

“Can I kiss you?” Technoblade interrupted them, not really hearing their rambling through the buzz going through his brain.

They nodded shyly in response as he wrapped his hand around the back of their neck to pull them dizzyingly, tauntingly closer. He looked into their eyes one more time to make sure they were serious, but Y/N was already closing the gap between their lips. They hoisted themselves into his lap and gripped his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

But alas, in this group of people, nothing goes unnoticed or undisturbed.

“EW! TECHNO’S KISSING Y/N!” screamed Tommy from the balcony of the treehouse which resulted in whoops and cheers from everyone at the party.

“FINALLY!” yelled someone amongst the crowd.

Y/N felt their ears burn a bright red as they buried their face into Techno’s neck.

“Yeah Y/N! Get some!”

“Oh fuck off!”

A/N: i hope u guys liked it :D, also this is my first time writing with they/them pronouns so if i made a mistake pls don’t hesitate to correct me!

#c!techno #technoblade #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #technoblade fluff #technofluff

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tastyykpop · 4 years

Text

[ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴᴛ ᴋɪʟʟ ʜɪᴍ]

Pairings: mafia boss!jaehyun x reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

Warnings: dom!jaehyun, brat!reader, yandere themes, orgasm denial, slight edging (like really slight), thigh slapping, ropes, vibrator, punishment kinda, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe 🙏)

The glass in Jaehyuns hand shattered as he saw another man approach you. He was beyond pissed. Mostly at you honestly. You were basically letting it happen because to you, this was all fun and games.

It shouldn't be though.

Jaehyun was a dangerous man. Someone you really shouldn't be around and someone who had a lot of power, over anything and everyone. Most people were terrified of him and only idiots would dare to speak out of line. And if they were lucky, maybe, just maybe they'd make it out alive.

It all happened when you came to this bar for a good drink and a slight buzz. But here, there was always someone hitting on you. This someone happened to be Jaehyun. It was the first time you met him too. Unfortunately, like the idiot you were (and still are), you talked back to him. It wasnt because you were trying to be rude, but instead you were fed up with the way he was acting towards you. The small brushes on the shoulder and the hand on your knee was getting on your nerves. But what really annoyed you were his comments. Not realising who he was and the power he had, you got angry and gave him back handed comments.

You only stopped when you felt a sting to your thigh.

Luckily for you it was only a slap. Not a knife or a bullet. Jaehyun was never this gentle.

Everytime after that, you would still come back to the bar, in your usual seating and Jaehyun would always be there. He even remembered your favorite drink after the first few nights. How sweet. But now, he was seated away from you with a group of men, watching your every move since he couldnt be with you at the moment.

"Baby that dress looks so pretty on you." The guy sitting next to you commented. His tongue swiping over his lips to coat them in his own saliva.

"Hmm thanks." You smiled, knowing that an angry Jaehyun was watching you like a hawk from across the bar.

The man's hand began to slither up your thigh, dragging his hand up and down. It was nothing like Jaehyuns rough, yet loving hands.

"I want to get to know you more." You turned your head to face the man and raised an eyebrow. "Come home with me."

"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to say no." You took a quick swig of your drink and smiled.

"Come on baby. It'll be worth your time." The man took your hands into his and brought them to his lips.

Jaehyun was going to kill someone today.

"Im sorry," you pulled your hand away, giggling, "but I said no." The man was still relentless, grabbing your hand and placing it on his bulge. Your eyes lit up and you searched around the room to see if anyone was seeing what was going on, stopping on your boyfriend's cold eyes.

Jaehyun got up from his seat, walking towards you. Your hand pulled away like lightning. A groan coming from the man next to you. Panic filled your body as you knew someone was going to get killed, or injured.

An angry Jaehyun is not a good Jaehyun. Especially if someone touched his girlfriend. And he let that go too far.

"Whats my pretty girl doing?" Jaehyun pulled your hair to the side and lightly kissed your neck. It was odd hearing such a soft voice come out of Jaehyun, yet you could feel how pissed he was.

"I-i was just talking..." His hands grabbed your waist, digging his nails deep into your side. Jaehyun wasnt an idiot, but you tried.

"And who the fuck are you?" The man asked. You actually forgot he was still there. But he wasn't going to be for long, Jaehyun ripped out a gun and pointed it at the man before making sure the safety was off.

"The real question is who are you?"

"I-i..." the man stuttered, obviously threatened by the weapon in your boyfriends hand.

"I dont like waiting." Jaehyun cocked the gun.

"I-im no one s-sir my apologies." The man walked away as quickly as he could from the both of you. Jaehyun snickering at how pathetic he was.

"Im gonna killed him for touching you."

"No, you wont. You can't always hurt someone who talks or touches me."

"Dont talk back to me, im not in the mood." You got up from the bar stool and walked with Jaehyun to his car. A very expensive one at that.

"I dont care if your in the mood stop acting like a bitch." Your sparky comment took all of Jaehyuns power to not bend you over and spank you in public.

"Get in the car Y/N."

"No." Crossing your arms over your chest, you turned and walked away. That set Jaehyun off.

You were suddenly in the backseat of his car, your face pushed against the seat and your ass in the air. The dress you were wearing was barely covering anything anymore.

"Listen here you pathetic little slut," he whisped in your ear, "if i tell you to get in the fucking car you listen, understand?"

You tried to get out of the grip he had on you, but it was no use. It just earned you a smack.

"Stop moving and answer me."

"Yes." A sigh left your mouth as he let go of you and walked to the drivers seat, starting the car. Leaving you in the back flustered.

"Come on pretty girl you can take it." Jaehyun was currently fucking you with a vibrator. The vibrations sending you over the edge as he kept moving it in and out at a slow pace. You grabbed his arm and dug your nails deep into him, hoping that he'd stop punishing you and fuck you for real.

"P-please.." You begged as you squirmed on the bed from all the edging he was doing.

Jaehyun ignored you and picked up his pace. The room was filled with a mix or screaming, moaning, and wet sounds, just how he likes it.

He pulled you in for a rough kiss, teeth clashing with each other. The rougher he was, the more passionate he was with you.

"Im gonna cum." You moaned out, pulling away from the deep kiss, having enough of all the toying from the man above you.

"No youre not." He ripped the toy out of you, ruining your orgasm.

"Aw look at that baby, guess you won't cum again for another month."

You glared at the man as he sat there with a playful smirk before he moved on top of you, leaning down to bite and suck on your neck, leaving purple and blue marks on your skin as a whine left your lips. You wanted more, but knowing Jaehyun you probably weren't going to get it until he was satisfied enough. But you knew he was going to give up sooner or later. The boner brushing against your thigh was not going to go unnoticed by you.

"Stop...teasing..." You tried saying as Jaehyun moved back up to kiss you again.

"Why should i?" He looked up with an eyebrow raised, "You werent exactly the nicest to me. So why should I be nice to you?"

You frowned at the older man ready to talk back again, but the sudden cold hand cupping your hot entrance stopped you. The lower half of your body was almost grinding on his hand for more friction. Jaehyun noticed and smirked at your attempts to get off.

Smack.

"Dont even try that." He kept the same agonizing smirk on his face, giving him a more sadistic look than before. Your movement stopped with a pout and you watched Jaehyun take his hand away from your core.

"Then ill just do it myself." You pretty much just pushed Jaehyun away from you and attempted to please yourself, but you knew damn well it wasn't nearly as good as Jaehyun himself.

"Look at the pretty girl trying to act all tough." Jaehyun cooed at you, taking your hand away from your core and pinning your hands above your head. "Have i not been punishing you good enough? Is that why your acting even more bratty than usual?"

"No," you shook your head at your boyfriend, "its the fact you going to kill someone just because they touched me."

"Well i have a newsflash for you princess," Jaehyun leaned closer to your ear and whispered, "theyre already dead."

"Y-youre insane Jaehyun..."

"But thats why you love me." You watched as Jaehyun got off of you, moving to find something in the very large closet you both shared. When he turned back, you expected another toy he was going to tease you with, but no. He had ropes in his hand as he walked towards you with the same sadistic smirk that you hated yet loved.

He tied you up effortlessly, only giving him a few hard times but that only ended with a few smacks to your thigh.

Jaehyun stood back looking at your naked figure, a small blush painted your cheeks as you felt small under his gaze. Yes, Jaehyun was rather proud of what he was looking at. The beautiful hickeys and bite marks that littered your thighs, neck, and chest. The red hand prints on your thighs wrapping around to your ass. And the crescent shapes in your hips from his nails digging into your skin. He loved all of it.

You could hear the sound of clothes dropping to the floor, but didnt bother turning your head, too embarrassed to look at him now that you felt more exposed with the ropes holding your wrists to the bed post.

"Spread your legs for me princess." The sound of Jaehyuns voice brought you back to reality. You looked at him, his eyes staring into yours waiting for you to do as you were told. But did you didnt move. Just adding more fuel to his anger. "I said spread your fucking legs." He growled. You did so a bit too slowly for his liking and it only ended up with him forcefully spreading them himself.

A quiet gasp left your lips watching as he began to slowly grind into you, making you feel his bare cock against your pussy. Your sighs and moans filled the room, jaehyun watched closely, taking in every whine and movement you made. He pulled back and you waited for him to continue grinding but no, he was inside you without warning, not giving you anytime to adjust.

Jaehyuns fast pace shook the bed and your wrists were chaffing against the ropes. Moans erupted from your throat from the pain and pleasure Jaehyun was giving you.

"Fuck, Jaehyun...."

Jaehyun moved his hand from your hips up to your throat giving it a tight squeeze, "Such a dirty mouth." His hips snapped forward making your eyes roll to the back of your head and more cuss words were choked out. Earning a disappointed head shake from your boyfriend.

The lewd sounds of your bodies filled the room as he continued fucking you into oblivion. If someone walked in, they would be sure to have the image of you being fucked by Jaehyun with his fingers in your mouth and hand wrapped around your throat all while being tied up, stuck in their head for a few months.

"You love being a brat huh?" Jaehyun started whilst making eye contact, "Cause you know you'll be fucked like the pathetic slut you are. Am i right princess?"

He took his fingers out of your mouth to let you speak, "Y-yes." You moaned out. A quiet chuckle rang through your ears.

"Needy little brat..." His pace was faster yet sloppy and you knew he was close. The bed rocked and the sound of skin against skin filled your ears. Jaehyuns grip on your throat not planning on letting go as you struggled for breath.

"Jaehyun....p-please I'm gonna-"

"If you even dare cum ill beat your ass." That changed your thoughts about even bothering to let go, knowing he wasn't playing around.

Just as you felt like holding it in wasnt enough, Jaehyun was already one step ahead and came inside you, riding out his orgasm with a low groan.

Jaehyun pulled out, removing the ropes from your wrists. They were as red as your thighs and they stung too the touch. Jaehyun, being the nice man he is, even though he was still slighlty mad, took the time to give you after care, applying a cream to your wrists and butt just so the redness would calm down and cleaned up the cum dripping down your thighs.

After all that he laid beside you, embracing you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. "My pretty girl." He muttered against your hair before the both of you drifted off to sleep. Although you were still angry that you couldnt cum.

#nct smut #nct #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun smut #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jung jaehyun nct #nct 127 #jaehyun smut #nct dream #wayv #nct u #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #nct fluff #nct angst

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morizoras-cave · 4 years

Text

Sleepyhead (Request)

MCU cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Request Description: Hiya♥️could i please request a teen x marvel cast were they always find her sleeping and taking naps everywhere around set and they confront her about it and she says something about having to take care of her little siblings because her parents are never arohnd do she gets no sleep. Sorry if its to long.❤❤❤❤❤😍🥰

Warnings: irresponsible parents, negligence, slight insecurity, stress

(A/N): sorry this is kind of centered around benedict, i find these mcu cast x reader ones difficult. also im watching a belarusian war-movie from 1985 about the holocaust. its absolutely terrifying (im very serious, i’d be cautious for trigger warnings). if you’re looking for a horror movie or something, search “come and see movie” on youtube and you’ll find the entire thing there (:

At first, it had been sweet. A testament to the insomniatic youth, if you will. In every closet, behind every door, and on every soft surface, you could be found in between takes, snoring away.

They all agreed you were probably watching movies or playing games up late at night, computer screen illuminating your face. Or maybe you were chatting with your faraway friends. Either way, it was almost endearing to find you drooling on the couches scattered around the set.

Sweet and endearing at first, yes. But then the feelings about it, the longer it went on, the more your mature and well behaved personality clashed with the idea of you staying up all night, the more the feelings about your frequent naps changed.

To the set workers, the coordinators and overseers of the countless tasks on set, it became an issue.

“Where’s Y/n? We need them for the next scene!”

More often than not, several people would be running around set in search of you. And of course you apologized profusely when they found and woke you, but it didn’t matter when you never changed.

But to your coworkers, the talented actors and actresses on set of this huge movie production, it was concerning. Because you were their friend, undoubtedly.

When you would be pulled out a distant break room, rubbing your dark and drowsy eyes, mumblings would start among them.

“Are they okay?”

“They just seem so sensible, I don’t understand why they would stay up like that.”

And then there was you. Young and unfortunate you. Just trying to do your best, trying to please everyone. It was impossible for anyone to know how much you were juggling with.

You felt like a bird with a broken wing, still flying but bound to fall to its death. You knew it was too much. You knew it was only a matter of time before you broke.

Most teens felt stressed with just schoolwork, and then there was you. Battling long set days and huge mounts of schoolwork. And then the family.

Your parents that never seemed to be around. They were both working all the time and often left you and your siblings to yourselves. The problems with that was that you were the eldest, and your siblings were too young to take care of themselves. You were the one left to bring home groceries, to make dinner, to bring them to bed, and to help them with any of their schoolwork or difficulties.

And it was too much. Simply put it was too much for you. You had managed back when you were just another teen at school, but now you were in a movie, you had a JOB.

Usually you’d go to set and work your ass off, get home and help the kids all day, and then do your schoolwork in the night. You almost never got more than an hour or two of sleep, which was why you settled for small naps during your filming sessions.

You were so stressed, and you wanted to be angry, because in truth you had every right to. But you were too tired and too busy to be angry. Too focused on your siblings and doing good as an actor. But you would never want to involve your coworkers. You thought it would be embarrassing and unprofessional to involve them. So you carried the weight all alone.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

Someone was shaking you awake. You blinked your eyes open. A redhead set assistant was yelling in your face, grasping your shoulders.

She stopped when she saw your eyes turning to slits, before widening to look at her.

“Am I on?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. The lady scoffed.

“Are you on? Yeah, you’re on,” she spat and swung around, heels clicking on the floor, as she exited the break room briskly.

You were ashamed. Of course you were. You were so unprofessional and problematic. But you knew you had no other time to sleep, so this was your only option. The thought made you want to cry.

Instead, you stood up and walked to where the scene would be filmed, through several hallways and technical rooms, before you arrived to the large set.

Benedict, Robert, Tom (Holland), Chris (Pratt), Pom, and Dave were all gathered and ready to film. Your face was on fire, so you avoided their gazes, and just got into position to film the next scene.

Benedict and Robert exchanged glances as you yawned, but before they could talk to you (as it seemed everyone was getting fed up with your constant sleepiness) the director yelled “action”, and the acting resumed.

You all did the scene and you, surprisingly, did okay for having woken up about five minutes earlier. You continued doing several scenes for the movie all together, going through about three full scenes.

When the director was satisfied, everyone started scattering. You, rubbing your tired eyes, was already beelining for the break room, hoping to see an empty couch for you to crash.

However, before you could sneak off to catch some z’s, you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. You blinked, turning around and gazing at the person who had grabbed your shoulder. It was Benedict, Robert, Tom and Chris not fat behind him. He had a stern look on his face.

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” your tone was casual, or perhaps too exhausted to express any real emotion, but inside you felt your stomach churn with anxiety.

“Why are you always sleeping?” Robert chimed in.

“Yeah, because if you’re up watching Youtube or whatever, you probably shouldn’t!” Tom said.

“Not that we’re assuming that that’s what you’re doing! It’s just- You know..,” Chris explained, voice full of panic.

You smiled softly. You recognized that they were coming from a place of worry. Then, your heart sunk slightly. You could cry. Again. Over the thought of your lack of time and your endless responsibilities.

“It’s nothing serious, it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to figure out how you could make it sound less sad. Things always sounded worse when spoken out loud, you found. “I have two siblings, and my parents are never around, so I’m kind of the person taking care of them.”

Your coworkers in front of you fell silent. You could see it on their faces. They didn’t like it.

“You?” Robert said finally, and you just nodded.

“So, you’re doing a movie, doing school, and taking care of your siblings at the same time?” Benedict repeated slowly, and once again you just nodded. There was nothing more to say.

“Why aren’t your parents there?” Chris asked in his serious-unserious voice.

“They’re working a lot,” you mumbled, disliking the collective attention on you. The thought of the couch made you yearn for some rest. You could tell that there were many things they wanted to do in that moment. They wanted to fix it all.

“Can’t you tell them you don’t have time?”

“I’ve tried that already. They say they don’t have a choice,” to this, both Robert and Benedict scoffed and shook their heads. You just watched with heavy eyes.

“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Benedict said quietly, eyes boring into yours, “I’m going to call a nanny to look after your siblings for a couple of days, don’t worry I’ll pay. You’re going to back to the hotel and sleep for at least 10 hours. When you’ve done that, and only when you’ve done that, will we talk about how we’ll move forward with your parents.”

You were quiet. You couldn’t stand up to your parents like Benedict wanted you to. You just couldn’t. They were busy and that was understandable.

Although, you had to admit, the thought of sleeping for 10 hours was enticing. Heck, worst case scenario, you could settle for 5! Your tiredness was like heavy cuffs and chains on your body, and Benedict stood with the shining, golden key right in front of you.

“Benedict, I- I can’t do that to my parents-”

“No, your parents can’t do this to you! This is absolutely outrageous!” He was frustrated you could tell. Robert seemed upset too, while Tom and Chris stepped back and let the adults handle it. Though, they seemed sad for you.

You went quiet.

“I just-”

“I don’t want to hear another word about how they’re somehow excused for their behavior. This is negligence, Y/n! This is too much for you and you know it! You’re exhausted and it’s so painful to see, so please. Just take me up on this.”

You sighed.

“Alright, then.” you said, body finally giving in to the attractive offer. Benedict’s face carried the ghost of a satisfied smile, before going back to the stone cold determination.

You drove to the hotel in Robert’s car and they booked you an extra room, knowing that your siblings occupied the other one. As soon as you could fall back on the bed, you were gone, body screaming for rest.

You woke up 14 hours later, feeling happier, brighter and well-rested. That feeling had been forgotten by you, but it was alright, you decided. Every inch of you blossomed with energy now.

As promised, Benedict had ordered a nanny for your siblings (the nanny was a lovely human being, and simply amazing with kids). Benedict, Robert, Chris and Tom has split the bill.

You called him when you woke up, and he dragged you to a restaurant, where the two of you had a long, long talk about why what your parents were doing was serious and unacceptable. He could tell he needed to explain it to you, because you, like many children, were ready to defend your parents’ at all costs.

Needless to say, after Benedict’s advice you didn’t have to go through that kind of thing again. You settled it with your parents (as well as your siblings), and after that you were so grateful that Benedict helped you out of that responsibility, because it wasn’t yours to have.

Benedict was just happy to help, the memory of seeing you sleep everywhere, now less endearing and simply painful. He didn’t like thinking about it, and so he tried not to, but rather focused on your laughter and bright smile. In truth, that’s the only thing that really mattered.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun

#benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #robert downey jr.#robert downey jr. x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu cast x reader #marvel x reader #marvel cast x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #dr strange #dr strange x reader #stephen strange x reader

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shortprince-cos · 4 years

Text

More Truths Than Dares

Summary: After "The Double Closet Incident" as Patton so calls it, Patton and Janus have a talk at their friends' sleepover.

Ship: Moceit (Patton x Janus)

Warnings: Smoking, claustrophobia mention, truth or dare. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Note: This is a direct sequel to "In A Closet"! You can read this without reading that, but it'll probably be confusing!

{Previous}

{Masterlist} (I KNOW I NEED TO FIX IT BUT IM A PROCRASTINATOR FIGHT ME)

~~~~~

"Oh, I didn't know he was invited."

All Patton had done was walk in the door. He hadn't even said hi, or hugged Roman yet, he just walked in the door, and Janus was already on his back for just existing in his presence.

It was going to be a long night.

"Yes? He's my best friend, you know!" Roman defended as he brought Patton to sit on the couch with him and Logan.

"Wow, rude." Logan said.

Roman made a series of offended noises. "You're my boyfriend! So obviously Patton is my best friend!"

As the two quickly dissolved into playful banter, Patton stood to go put his overnight bag in Roman's room, hearing Janus whisper something to Remus and Virgil as he walked by.

Just ignore it, he thought, not really in the mood to argue today. Especially not after what Patton had dubbed ‘The Double Closet Incident’.

It was disastrous. Not only did Patton get locked in a closet with Janus, who has claustrophobia, he discovered that he may have a thing for men. Who knew?

Roman. Roman probably knew, especially after he had adopted Patton into their little friend group. And if being gay was a contest, Roman would be the judge.

But...it was normal to feel that way, right? It wasn't weird to feel embarrassed when someone got up in your personal space, was it? It wasn't abnormal to blush when someone said kind words to you, or odd to imagine yourself in different scenarios with someone you saw on a daily basis and they were-

Wait, what was he doing again?

Patton sighed as he set down his bag by Roman's bed. Those were thoughts for another day. He was supposed to be having fun at his best friend's sleepover, after all!

Patton put on a happy face and went back to the living room to join the others, finding that Roman and Remus were wrestling over something, Logan and Janus were debating, and Virgil was scrolling on his phone. Yep, it was going to be a long night.

---

After breaking up Roman and Remus' tussle, watching a couple of movies, and other various shenanigans, Remus decided to gather everyone up in his room to play truth or dare.

If Patton learned anything from watching the others' turns, it was to always choose truth when Remus picks you.

"Double D, Truth or Dare?" Remus asked excitedly, even though he already knew what Janus would say.

"Dare."

Remus grinned like a shark. "I dare you and Patton to stay in my closet for one hour together."

Both Janus and Patton went pale.

"I...lied. I meant truth." Janus quickly said, hoping that Remus would let up.

"Nope! Too late! Now, you and Patton have to get in there, have hate sex or something, and come out in an hour!"

"Uh- we can't!" Patton exclaimed suddenly, and then all eyes were on him.

"What, are you afraid of the dark or something?" Remus teased.

"Um- no- well, kinda- but no. I- uh- have claustrophobia."

Janus looked shocked, to say the least. Thankfully, everyone was still looking at Patton.

"Yeah, small spaces are absolute torture to be in, and I would prefer it if none of us did stuff that involves small spaces, because then I'll worry about them!" Patton rambled quickly, trying to get all attention on him.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Ugh, fine. But you guys still need to do something together."

Patton blushed a bit, and Janus sighed, looking relieved.

Eventually, Remus gave up, and just dared Janus to eat shaving cream.

The rest of the night went smoother, and Patton ended up telling a lot of weird secrets, but not very important ones.

Eventually, everyone was asleep in either Roman's room, or Remus' room. Everyone except Patton, who couldn't get his brain to turn off.

Patton reluctantly got out of his sleeping bag, and made his way to the front door, maybe some fresh air would clear his mind.

Turns out, he wasn't the only one who had that idea, because as he stepped outside, he found the one and only Janus on the porch, smoking a cigarette.

Before Patton could turn back around, Janus saw him, and nodded his head in acknowledgment. Well, no going back now.

Patton silently sat down in the wooden rocking chair next to where Janus was standing, staring off into space a little before speaking up.

"You-you know that smoking is bad for you, right?"

Janus' lips curled up in a small smile as he chuckled. "I'm aware. Don't worry your pretty head, I only do it when I'm stressed."

Patton decided to ignore the way being called pretty by Janus felt and focused on the other part of that statement. "What are you stressed about?"

Janus blew out a puff of smoke, and suddenly Patton was very distracted by his lips.

"You. You're...different than how I thought you'd be." Janus said solemnly, drawing in another breath.

"Is...is that a bad thing?" Patton asked quietly, looking down to the floor.

Janus glanced at Patton with an indecipherable look on his face. "To be honest? I don't know. On one hand, you're actually a decent person."

"Thank you?"

"And on the other," Janus continued. "I've treated you like s**t for no reason other than spite."

"...It's okay-"

"It's not." Janus interrupted.

They sat in silence for awhile, trying to figure out if the other still wanted them here or not.

"Why did you think I was a bad person?" Patton asked quietly.

Janus huffed. "It's complicated."

"I mean...we got all night."

"...true." Janus sighed. "I think it's because ‘nice’ people don't usually want anything to do with me, and when they do, it's usually for the wrong reasons." He explained. "So when you started talking to me...I don't know, you reminded me of all the wrong people."

Patton's heart broke. He reminded Janus of some probably terrible memories, and had probably been hurting him just by being around him! No wonder Janus frowned whenever Patton walked in a room!

"Janus, I'm so so sorry, I never knew-"

"What are you sorry for?"

"I- That I remind you of some terrible people in your life-"

"Patton," Janus rest a hand on Patton's shoulder, making him blush. "You don't have any control over who you remind me of. Please, don't apologize for that."

"Well- then you can't apologize for being reminded of those people either!" Patton argued.

"I didn't say that, I said I was sorry for treating you terribly!"

"Well, then, I guess you're forgiven!" Patton retorted.

Janus looked at him in shock, as if Patton had just said a bunch of profanities, before quickly looking back to stare off into the distance again. His cheeks were red, but Patton convinced himself that he was probably cold out here.

"You're...too forgiving." Janus mumbled softly, as if he was talking to himself.

"I think that's a good thing." Patton replied.

Janus huffed. "...Thank you." He said, looking at Patton with a small smile on his face. "For everything."

Patton blushed. "Y-Yeah. No problem."

Janus looked at him with a disagreeing look on his face, but let it go.

They settled into comfortable silence as Janus threw his cigarette away and Patton almost fell asleep.

The second time Patton had to force his head up, Janus huffed.

"You should probably get to sleep."

As if on cue, Patton yawned. "So should you." He said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Janus chuckled. "Fine. I'll go back to bed if you do."

"Okay, fine. You have a deal."

Janus had that stupid, self-satisfied smirk on his face that he usually wore that made Patton feel fuzzy inside.

"Good," He smirked. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah. See ya."

Janus ventured into the house, Patton following a few moments later.

Patton felt like he was getting into dangerous territory with Janus, but instead of feeling concerned, he felt more excited than ever.

~~~~~

Hi guys!!!! Its been awhile! So, this is an au that ive fallen in love with, so i wanna keep writing for it! If you guys have any name ideas, send em my way please!

General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dles @tranquil-space-ninja @chaotic-murder-muffin @lugooble @sander-crossing @princess-rosie @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you @reptilian-with-scallions

Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #patton sanders #ts patton #janus sanders #ts janus #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #kawaiikat54 fic #fanfiction

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

Note

hi binnie i wanted to request a fem!reader x dom!yeonjun when she comes home late at night smelling like someone else’s cologne and he punishes her. (sorry this is very descriptive aha im no good at english ) :3

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐖/𝐂 | 2.5k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱

“hyung, go to sleep”. soobin encourages over the video monitor.

“no we need to finish these lyrics”. yeonjun refuses. he was currently working from home in his home studio. it was more urgent to him than anyone else probably because of the real studio time he’s missed due to paternity leave.

“hyung we can finish them tomorrow alright?”. soobin assures softly. he hated seeing the older stressing himself out. “how’s jayce? has he been sleeping okay?”. soobin asks.

yeonjun huffs and combs his hair back with his fingers in stress. he hasn’t been getting the sleep he wanted due to the six month old infant. especially since your boss needed you urgently, cutting your maternity leave and giving you later hours than usual. hence the reason why yeonjun has been practically banging his head over work. he palms his forehead in the video camera. soobin could see the weariness in his eyes.

“yeah I guess. I just put him down an hour ago. I hope he stays asleep”.

“good. you should use this time to get some sleep hyung”.

yeonjun huffs again, parting his lips to say something else before he heard the front door open and close softly. it was you trying to hurry and sneak in. maybe change your clothes and shower before yeonjun could suspect anything.

“fine I guess. I’ll get some sleep”.

“good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow hyung”.

“bye soobin”.

he waves before ending the call. he checks his watch. it was almost an hour later than when you normally came home. “babe is that you?”. he spoke.

you swiftly took your jacket off hanging it on the coat rack. you cursed under breath hating the fact that he even heard you arrive. “yes babe”. you call out from near the door.

“you know you’re like an hour late coming home. jayce was a handful today”.

you slip off your shoes. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m here now”. you tried to sound as sincere as possible. almost as if you weren’t fucking one of your best friends an hour prior.

yeonjun turns off his monitors and shuts off the equipment in his studio. he decided to check on the baby one last time before entering your shared bedroom. thank god he was still asleep.

“I’m not trying to be an asshole but baby I really need you here. why is your boss keeping you so late?”. yeonjun questions while you were digging into your closet. you were kind of glad he couldn’t see the guilty look on your face. but he definitely smelled the cologne each time you moved.

“I’m sorry it’s been really hectic at the company. I’ll talk to her to see if we can make some arrangements. why are you so upset junnie?”. you soft talked, hoping to butter him up. he sighs at the nickname, sneaking behind you to wrap his arms around your waist to smell you again on purpose.

you reeked of versace cologne. and yeonjun knew he never wore that kind.

“I’m not upset baby. I just miss you and jayce is always eating and crying”.

his lips sit at the coast of your collarbone. he peppers fluttering kisses until he reaches your neck. you breathed.

“isn’t that what you do too? eat and whine about things?” you accuse. yeonjun chuckles. “yes maybe”.

you wanted to shrug yeonjun off because honestly words couldn’t explain how fucked out you were. but you didn’t want him to think anything was up so you let his lips continue up your neck and finally to your jawline.

yeonjun could hear your breathing pattern shift due to his lips. but more than anything he saw how much you were trying to act like you wanted him, but really you wanted to tell him not tonight. that you didn’t feel like having sex because you already got your fix from someone else. and yeonjun knew it.

he pushes his bulge against your backside inching his lips to the corner of yours. you could feel him harden. “baby”. he hums. “baby please have sex with me”.

your heart raced at his words. you’ve never heard yeonjun beg in need before. you didn’t know how you were going to find the energy to oblige to his request. but he grips your waist tighter and you knew there was no letting go. he traces the outline of your breasts with his fingers, keeping note of the fact that your bra wasn’t on.

‘stupid’, yeonjun wanted to say. he knows you left the house with one on. yeonjun was furious.

“please? don’t you miss me?”. he whines again, sneaking a kiss to your lips. he glares into your eyes after he pulls away and you nod your head in counterfeit desperation. he grins into another kiss while his hand searched for the back of your thighs. while hoisting you up the both of you exchange sloppy kisses until you were being laid back onto the sheets.

he allows his tongue to roam your mouth once more before he pulls away with admiration glimmering in his eyes.

“I love you”.

you swallowed, the sheer happiness that overwhelmed him was enough to make you feel guilty about what you done. nevertheless you pout your lips and rub his cheek. “aw junnie. I love you too”.

he smiles and leans down to layer an abundance of kisses over your lips again. he pins your wrists down gradually with his hands. “I know I haven’t been the best husband lately”. he complains in between kisses. “but I’ve been so tired and moody with the baby and you haven’t been here”. he raises your dress and pushes his bulge against the wetness of your panties.

you pant feeling your breathing becoming shaky. “I’m sorry junnie. you’ve been the perfect husband okay? I don’t know what I was thinking working-- l-late like that”.

he tongue kisses your neck sliding your panties down your thighs in one quick movement. “you’re so pretty. I’ve been missing you”. slowly but surely he clutches your thighs and rocks down into your warmth. you wrap your arms around his neck with your gaspy moans driving straight into his ear. your eyes roll up to the ceiling.

“godd---go a little softer junnie please”. you plead. and he follows your command slowly swaying his hips into you with care. he kisses your cheeks. “is this better baby?”. he pants into the small space between the both of your lips, satisfied with the way he was sheathed in your warmth. it felt so good and he hasn’t had it in so long.

“yes it’s perfect”. you mumble, grinding your hips against him at the same speed. it felt amazing. sex was always amazing with yeonjun. he leans down and plants another kiss on your lips. “so needy? what’s making my baby so needy? you missed me that much?”.

between your muffled cries you nodded. he was stretching you each time he inched deeper. he knew how much you loved him buried inside of you. enough to forget where you end and where he begins. “god yeonjun”. you whine against his neck. “i’ve missed you so much”. you whimper back. you felt so ashamed. you knew no one could ever fuck you like yeonjun could.

“I don’t want you to ever miss me baby. I want to always be here to love you and give what you want when you want it”.

you hold him against you, melting each time he bucks into you and feeling guilt eat you alive each time he spoke. “I’d love that so much”. you reply hazily glaring up into his eyes.

“and I love you-”. he cut himself off with a hard thrust jolting your body upwards. you gasp. he chuckles into your neck. “fuck--i hope you don’t think I’m a pervert. asking for sex as soon as you walk in the door”.

“mmmh no junnie-- you’re just as needy as I am”.

with his head buried into your neck he fucks into you a bit faster, groaning at the way you felt wrapped around his length. he got his desired effect though. you with parted lips clawing at his back. each time he rocked into you he heard you choke on your own moans and that’s exactly what he wanted. it turned him on.

“junnie I’m going to cum if you keep going like this---that’s why I want you to g-go slower”.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long I can’t control myself”. he tries his best to go at a slower pace but each time he tried he went back to the same pace he started with. you’re not far behind your orgasm and yeonjun knew just by the stutter in your hips.

“tell me when you’re about to cum baby”. he breathes.

“I’m a-about to ccum right now”. you were nearly shaking beneath him. and just as you felt like you were about release yeonjun stops his movements completely. you sank into confusion until you felt him roughly create a makeshift ponytail out of your hair and pin it against the bed above your head so you couldn’t move.

his facial expression immediately changed. instead he looked angry. his eyes were scary glaring down into yours.

“did you really think I’d let you cum you fucking cheater?”.

you glanced up at him with horror. “junnie--”.

“don’t fucking soft talk me“.

you crumbled at his tone of voice. he started pounding into you whilst biting his lips. you whimper in his hands.

“whose cologne is that hm?”.

if you weren’t choking to death on your moans before you were definitely were choking on them now. he was making you feel so good you could barely think of anything else while he was fucking you like this. you felt your orgasm build back up quickly.

“w-what cologne?”. he thrusts rough and sharp and stops just after he felt your hips stutter. you whine in desperation to cum just once. it felt like a punch in the gut.

“don’t play stupid. whose cologne are you wearing?”.

“it’s yyours”. you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide at the way he practically growled at you. he lowers his lips allowing them to overshadow yours.

“that’s not my fucking cologne and you know that. I don’t wear versace cologne. so how about you tell me who does?”.

and right there, he was filling you again. pushing his length into your depth just how you liked it, knowing it drove you insane. knowing it was just enough to make you want to cum again. his strokes were painfully slow, making your body wallow in a feeling of pleasure and anxiousness. he bites his lips again.

“I think I like you like this. not being able to cum. you feel better around me”.

he’s groaning and you felt heat sit in your cheeks. your hips bucked up with need and he’s snapping his hips into you until he felt you stutter again. you pant heavily, grasping his shirt.

“yyeonjun please--pplease don’t stop I need to cum!”.

“tell me who wears versace cologne”. he snarls. in absolute desperation you answer, “a cclose friend of mine!”.

and just as you were about to finally cum his hips come to a halt once more. you felt tears cascade down your cheeks. he chuckles in the midst of your pain.

“and you weren’t even smart enough to put your bra on before coming home to me. you’re pathetic as fuck. do you know that?”. he rocks his hips down again with brutal thrusts.

“jjunnie I’m sorry! it’s just I’ve been feeling so unsatisfied lately“.

yeonjun casts his eyes down on you with no remorse. he cared nothing about your explanation or your tears. you whimpered against his chest.

“how long have you been doing this? don’t lie to me”.

your needy cries were muffled into the material of his shirt. you decided to reply honestly. “s-since jayce was three months”. you sniffle. “please let me cum yeonjun”.

for an affair that he thought was only just a few weeks ended up being months. yeonjun couldn’t believe you. he couldn’t believe you’d intentionally sabotage the family that the both of you started together. he knows he was stressed and moody lately but it was because he was taking care of jayce by himself. and you were no where to be found. tears rimmed his eyes.

his hips stop and he cums good and hard just how he hoped. except you didn’t. you were a tear stained mess beneath him shaking and crying. yet he didn’t care. he leaned off of you and started zipping up his pants. and almost as if he could sense that his father was near, jayce began to softly cry in the next room over.

yeonjun glares down at you in pure disgust.

“I want you to pack your stuff and get out of my house”.

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun smut #tomorrow by together #txt smut #bugsbinnie #choi yeonjun

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ag3ntl3vi · 4 years

Text

Hoodie X GN! Reader X Masky | “Rock Paper Sisscors” |☁️

This struck me at like, 3AM while listening to Devil in Diguise. I’ll probably write more parts to this tonight if im being honest.

!Gender-Neutral reader!

Trigger Warnings: Sexual mentions.

Word Count: 2,317

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"Can you go any slower?" You laughed, stopping to allow your friend to catch up. Sweat dotted her chocolatey forehead as she panted.

"Yes! I can." She wheezed. "You're just too fast!" Taylor whined loudly, bending herself in half to try and catch her breath. You rolled your eyes and pulled her up, raising her arms over her head.

"You'll breathe better this way," You told her, taking a step back and taking a long sip of your icy water. Taylor nodded her thanks and slowed her breathing gradually.

"Wanna keep going?" You asked as you wiped your mouth on your wrist. Taylor feriously shook her head. "I'll pass, (Y/n)." She whimpered. You put yout arms behind your head as you began to walk down the worn dirt bath.

"That sucks," You murmered. "We were only 1/4th of the way done."

Taylor gaped at your cocky smirk. "And you do this everyday?"

You nodded. "Twice a day if I'm feelin' lucky," You winked and giggled. Taylor shook her head in disbelief.

"You're a machine," She grumbled, jogging to your side. You could tell she was tired, but she was the one who asked to join you in your near-night run. She said she needed the exercise to get the perfect "summer body", even though it was fall.

You hummed. "I didn't know they made sexy machines now." Taylor pushed away the urge to roll her eyes, though she desperately wanted to. She chose not to answer your stupid comment. You both started to walk back to your dorm and planned a junk food movie night. You had the feeling she wouldn't last, but you couldn't say no to her puppy face. You had to admit, you were a sucker for your best friend. Taylor ended up chugging the rest of her and your water bottles greedily, but you didn't blame her. She was pretty out of shape. The darker skinned girl took a large gasp of fresh oxygen after finishing off your beverage.

"Learn to breathe, my God," You snorted. She glared.

"I just ran a mile, you can shut your mouth, you fucking monster," She hissed playfully.

School campus soon came into view after your bickering. Taylor grumbled about how badly her feet ached and how she was never running ever again. You parted ways at the dorm. Taylor wanted to get the living room set up for the movie and sent you out for snacks and drinks. You easily migrated to the everything store. That wasn't its actual name, you couldn't care to remember what it was, but the everything store seemed to suit the run down shop better.

You pushed thr glass double doors open, a cute bell ringing to announce your presence to the cashire, Michael.

"(Y/n)!" He greeted with a smile. You returned the facial gester with a small wave of your own. "What're you here for this time?" He leaned his head on his open palm, his eyes trained on your figure. You had your back turned to him as you read the movie names on the rack.

"What does it look like?" You chuckles, plucking a familar title from the shelf. 'Kiki's Delivery Service', a childhood favorite of yours. Michael didn't verbally answer, he was too busy allowing his eyes to roam your every curve.

His eyes snapped to the side when you turned around to wonder down the candy isle. You shoved a KitKat , snickers, and (f/c) into your arm (allowing an extra of your favored one into your pocket, shh) before you turned the corner, finding the energy drinks. With a childish grin you grabbed a few of the better Monster flavors. You knew you had popcorn at the dorm so you didn't bother trying to find a box here.

You decided to check out as quickly as possible, avoiding as much conversation with Michael as you could. He gave you the creeps. He always tended to make sexual remarks regarding your running outfit, like how your shorts made your ass look plump or how cute you looked with a flushed, tired expression. In general, he didn't seem like a good guy or influence, though Taylor took an odd interest in him. She always had shitty tastes in men.

It was getting late, you noticed. The sun started to darken as students scrambled to their respected dorms or apartments off campus. You made your way to your room. The illuminated cobblestone path gave you the worst horror movie vibes, so to say you booked it was an understatement. As soon as you were inside the safe confindments of your dorms living area, you released a loud sigh of relief. You thought about taking the elevator up, but decided on the stairs to the third story. You were very grateful you were on a higher floor, to you it served as a lesser chance of being robbed or murdered.

"I brought a movie, candy and monsters, come on, you filthy goblin." you called into the freakishly neat room. Taylor was a very, very messy person so you tended to pick up after her more than you'd happily admit. It didn't take long for you to set positions for certain objects in specific places. Example, your shoes stayed in a small, plastic, blue bin by the door. They didn't ever make it to the carpeted floor of the living room. You had a key rack by the door so your keys were never lost or misplaced and Taylor had insisted you needed a coat rack, so your bookbags and Taylor's purses hung there. Any extra blankets, pillows, and sheets were placed neatly in the spare closet.

"Monsters..?" Her brown head popped out from around the corner.

-----------------------------------------------

Taylor had passed out halfway through the movie, not that you were surprised. You pouted. You were very well use to it, but it wasn't any less disappointing when it happened. You carefully laid her on the couch, not bothering to wake her. She was a literal demon when she was woken up. You covered her body in a large, fluffy blanket before standing, pacing for a moment.

You wondered back to your organized room and grabbed your large spray bottle you kept on your dresser. You stared down your mass of plants in your window seal and the few on your night stand and hanging from the ceiling before watering the ones that needed it, leaving your Rainbow Bush succulent alone. Satisfied, you grabbed your school jacket and your earbuds and phone before slipping your shoes on at the door.

It was almost 1 before Taylor and you had finally settled enough to sit and watch the movie, so it was fairly late now. But, regretfully, your body was still pumped from the sugary drinks you consumed not long ago. You made a quick choice to go on a short run to tire yourself out a bit before retiring for the night. Sure, wasn't the best idea to go out at night, alone and defenceless, but you prided yourself in your speed if needed. Besides, you've done it before and you were obviously still alive!

You made your way to the dirt path you ran earlier in the day, struggling to remember a stupid songs name. You grinned when you figured it out and hurriedly played it. The opening played through your earbuds as you gently bobbed your head to the beat.

"There are boulders on my shoulders, collar bones begin to crack, there is very little left of me and it's never coming back," You sung softly along with 'Be nice to me'. An old, but greatly loved song from your middle school years. You began to run.

Your lips parted in a content smile as a phrase slipped past your teeth.

"You're a killer, and i'm your best friend. I think it's unfair, your situation,"

You began to bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly. "You say i'm changing! I'm sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same!" You jumped as your legs moved, your voice growing louder and bolder with every word thoughtlessly spilling out your mouth. You became unaware of the eyes watching your movements, head tilted in confusion.

"Your voice is driving me insane!" You shouted, hopping more as you swished your head side to side, getting louder everytime the phrase was repeated. The last note rang through your ears and you let out a joyful that was quickly cut off. The overbearing feeling of being watched dawned on you.

You jerked around and scanned the treeline, your eyes falling on a tall male facing you with a tilted head. You stared at him, confused before your gaze fell on the bloodied pipe dangling by his side. You fearfully and turned around, bolting in the direction the path led you to. You didn't have much time to understand why he was watching you, but you could hear his heavy footsteps crushing dead leaves as he raced after you.

'Molly' blasted into your ears loudly, making you jerk in surprise. If you were going to die tonight, you were glad this was the song you'd die to.

You could hear him distantly still chasing after you. Not to brag, but you could run a mile amd keep going onto the next without breaking too much of a sweat, though you'd be fairly tired. Speaking of tired, you could feel the drousiness spreading to your head and deep down you knew that you couldn't keep the pace up for much longer.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned into the woods, lifting your feet high so you wouldn't be the stupid one to trip on a root and be killed first. That would be an embarrassing way to die and not even Molly could make it better, you concluded.

So you did the most logical thing your sleepy brain could think of.

You climbed a fucking tree.

The man was a far enough distance for you to get a good amount of height between the two of you. You panted, your palms itching with needle-like pain from the rough and merciless bark, but pulled yourself up another branch and looked down. The man was panting heavily, bent over as he struggled to force air into his most likely burning lungs. He stood up after a quick second, glaring up the tree at you.

Childishly, but overcome with a sense of acomplishment, you stuck your tongue out at him.

Bad idea, you concluded when the guy's gloved fists clenched by his sides and he started to climb.

You squealed. "No! Fuck off!" You shouted. "Pick another goddamn tree, you humanoid orange!" A growl ripped through your teeth as you glared fearfully at him. To your surprise, he got down. He moved his head to stare at you before sitting indian style, his face pointed to you.

For the first time you had a proper look at him, and you weren't surprised. He looked like he came from a shitty horror movie. He wore an orange hoodie with a ski mask hiding his facial features, a red frowny face sitched into it. He had dark blue, wore out jeans and black boots that looked to be kept as clean as Taylor would keep her living space.

'Best friend' Began to play quietly through your (f/c) earbuds and you forced down a snort at the timing. You were hoddled up in a tree while a guy who most likely wanted you dead watched from below. You shook your head and glanced at the dark sky.

'The stars are out' You thought as you spotted the little dipper, the big one wasn't far away from it's child.

It only took about ten minutes for your easily distracted mind to get bored. You stared down at the hooded man as he drew in the dirt with his pipe. An idea struck you, a bad one, but an idea nevertheless. And it wasn't going to kill you, with a lot of hope, it may allow you to live another day.

"Yo, tangerine!" He flinched at your loud voice, moving his head to stare at you.

You held up a fist with your dominate hand, your opposite going under it, palm up and open.

"Wanna play rock, paper, sisscors before I die?"

The man stilled before very, and I mean very slowly nodded. You allowed yourself to snort. Now you were going to play a childs game with a murderer.

"Do you know how to play?" You called down. He nodded again and held up his hands. "Cool," You said.

The orange-clad killer was absolute shit at rock, paper, sisscors. He was even worse than your nephew, who was six and had the attention span of a squirell. Sometime in your game playing, you had moved yourself a few branches down to see him better in the dark woods. You now sat a branch above his head. He didn't move much, but his shoulders seemed to slump.

You threw rock, again, and he threw sisscors. You gave an evil victory crackle whiele he glared gloomily at his open fingers. "That was fun," You stretched your arms over your head, yawning. "Can I go now?" You calmly asked.

He didn't move for a long while, looking between you and his gloved hands, the, back to you. Finally, he nodded. You hopped down, smiling widely.

"Thanks," You said nervously. He was trying to kill you earlier, so you wouldn't be completely off guard around him. You started to shuffle around him cautiously. His arm shot out, grabbing your upper arm roughly. You flinched hard, looking up at him with wide eyes.

This is it, You thought He changed his mind and wants to eat me!

Instead, you heard a deep voice whisper.

"You can leave if we can play again soon."

#creepypasta #x reader #hoodie x reader #hoodie #masky #marble hornets #fanfiction #masky x reader #poly relationship #masky x reader x hoodie #cp #i dont know what im doing #rock paper sisscors #murderer #tim wright #brian thomas

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leafbatraccoon · 1 year

Text

these were notes on my journal till yesterday but the news that we're getting the nectar-making skill with horses i figured i'd have some fun with it yet still be loud with my opinions, so i'll reblog with updates from time to time - im reposting with the original slot texts bc i was unhappy with my sleepless decision making 👍👍 | details under the cut if u wanna know but i'm a bit of a hater fyi |

longer seasons - i don't think this will happen, if miracle mods show up i might stamp them on in a different color but from what i've found it's pretty ingrained in the game that 28 days is the longest and if modders we're going to crack it they might've done it already but when im playing on pretty long life spans i just 💔💔 50+ days seasons would be the dream, but i'd be happy with 45 👀 10 outfits per category - same as before ig, this is probably super niche but i'm not satisfied and i hate having to get into cas to change it up so much bc in my head they have a closet each and i want to mix and match pieces in a realistic way 👚 pack refreshes - tbf, they did set up an expectation for that one which for the looks of it they are done with it; there's so much to fix, dine out in general, mermaids deserve some love in comparison to the other occults, updates to the bodies of water (going in the water in windenburg would be legendary), hu just bug fixes and compatiblity here and there would be nice (more hiking ? power walks in more places? its so weird how they are restricted to ONE place) now by world refreshes - i mean that in my dreams they go back and expand the maps they give us 🗺️🗺️ im greedy and want 2 neighbourhoods for my vampires & spellcasters, a lil more space in moonwood mill, granite falls & del sol valley too why not not gonna happen so i can say wtv an extra space in mt komorebi with apartments and since we're at it in san sequoia too; will def not happen working gallery - ig that might be coming too ?? idk my gallery sucks at times like it wont find any results when there are ?? and i know there are bc if i restrict more it might come up with something?? also just wanted better mechanism for the searches, i never had issues with disturbing content showing up tho so idk i heard some simmers weren't so lucky

bigger households - having to control or monitor 8 human/humanish sims is challeging enough but because pets, because having to fake apartments, because reasons; i use mccc but this workaround brings issues in cas so yea, wishlist ✔️ snakes // lizards - this would've been appropriate to launch with horses imo and i'd love if there had been interaction/compatibility from snakes in the wild and those taller friends & other small pets - small pet options in ts4 are non existent, sorry, birds only exist in that one tree (they are probably happy about not being captive actually), bunnies are also wild (personally im fine with it but i know that its a popular pet so i'd love if it was an option), reptiles don't exist (yet) and rodents are exclusive to the slap-in-the-face-of-this-community pack... 🐁🐇🐢🦎🐍🐦🐜 faeries or other fae kin - i feel like they've hinted at it for quite a while and we've seen it show up in quizzes too?? 🧚‍♀️ so i'm hopeful for this one and hope they are just trying to make sure they properly deliver on it bc there's a lot of fantasy enthusiasts and they deserve it & woodland creatures - personally would love it if the fae pack came with woodsy world and the addition of woodland creatures at least the spiritual kind (like unicorns or a white doe which they possibly alluded to with puzzles - it made me real giddy) bonus points if it has some outdoor retreat compatibility

owning more lots - after winning the lottery or keeping up with a family for generations, sims can accumulate quite a lot of money, there's not a lot of expenses in the life of a sim tbh, travelling only costs one loading screen, gardeing makes you rich and thats ok ig but being able to own a holiday house would be welcomed, not just a business 🏘️ nectar making - when tartosa came but no nectar making i was a bit let down, imagine making or acquiring a special batch for your wedding?? it would've been lovely and appropriate for a wedding pack but ... yeah anyway it comes with the horse pack for some reason so at least it's coming, and only 3 years after juice fizzing 🥂 bands and more instruments - another thing they've hinted at in polls and i kinda wished it to come with HSY yet was not surprised it didn't; that being said we need drums and other instruments like bass and/or contrabass, just more than what we have if we're to have bands plz skating and/or surfing - these two are very different and honestly idk how the latter one would work, i just think they are popular sports we could have; at least skate boards should be easy enough to implement and a cute way for sims to drift around their closed off worlds so i have more hope for that one 🏄

hotels - even if they've been around the franchise and ts4 seems to draw all it's ideas from previous iterations i'm not confident they haven't just been replaced by rental properties but it's not the same, i'd like to be able to meet other guests vacationing on the property without having to engineer everything about it, ordering meals at hotel services and running/owning a hotel also; retirement homes - ELDER SIM LOVE IN GENERAL (canes, health issues, idk im not that old yet ..hum wills & testiments, special interactions) i feel growing together really fucked up on that one but i was not surprised bc it's ts4 and we rely on crumbs mods here and thats why some players stop buying dlc 👵☕👴 the townie refreshes - just pay some fans to do it at this point bc it's taking so long; most of them don't need to be redesigned anyway, just add hot and cold weather outfits, preferences and maybe a sneaky extra trait or lifestyle they could have developed and voilá, finish that chapter disabilities - i don't want it in the form of traits and thing it's rotten to make people to pay for it BUT i'd love to see some disability representation in this game, physical, cognitive and what not. i understand at this point it might be hard to introduce but i think it be really important to have this in the sims and ts4 is about time funerals & cemeteries - death is a part of life, this is a life sim... thats it basically, i want it, i miss it in comparison to previous games, i fake it with parks and inviting guests over, but we shouldn't have to tho seems pretty basic stuff

more and better apartments - i would like it if we saw more conjoined builds, more apartment builds, both with few floors and plenty, the option to have sims living in different floors of the same building and even having business or community lots in builds that are divided into multiple lots - ambitious ik - bonus points if they update apartments in a way you can own one or more and rent them out - i don't want to play as a landlord, i swear - i just want my sims to be allowed do simbnb while they go for a weekend in the city (which ig u cant bc of the current system/coding idk) or bringing them to more existing worlds but bc of the obstacles to that i have 0 hopes well-crafted worldly words - i see a lot of americancentric choices being made when creating the worlds, it's unrealistic for a global player base and hum.. a life sim and whenever they drop interesting worlds they are always so frigging small you have to sacrifice making a lively town, with people and businesses, if you want you're sim to live in certain environments (or use multibuilds, which is fine ig but it bothers me a bit) and they fail to utilize the common spaces of the neighbourhoods in ways simmers would love to, to bring some life into these worlds; 🌍 the worldly part of it... i am yet to see african like climates and cultures represented, asia is so wide & full of diversity and we get one japan inspired world so far, south america if confined to a destination world if you don't have mods ig (maybe it's changed by now im not sure) and europe while being represented in 3 packs so far - and one of them being the best in terms of lots per world we've had so far - 2 of them have few lots and its all very niche, so in a way i don't need to be able to point to the actual cities that inspired those worlds, it's not my priority just something that crowded and lively that draws from wider range of cultures and that mre people could recognize as close to their experience would be nice 🌏 also more islands maybe im a sulani simp new jobs & careers - i love GTW, it was the first pack i got and sure it deserved a refresh by now and i would welcome it, especially if it meant more careers, i really liked that gameplay feature; that being said i feel like we deserve more job options OR branches. y no dentist ??? i cant think of ideas right now but while playing the game and setting up townies or sims i feel limited a lot trans content fixes - yea i avoid using the in-game system for trans rep (i headcanon a lot and cheat stuff basically) bc its just not the best in general (clothes fit weird, there's no changes in the frame through time as there would be with hormonal treatments - which there arent in the game so makes sense), not in comparison bc i dont know other games to compare it to just real life ig but im not even that informed tbh; i am happy they didnt create a life sim where trans people are erased and don't want them to be discouraged to stop investing in this at all so i try not to mention it but fix the binder at least & here's a tumblr post that helps me a bit something that surprises me - /pos !! because... they don't... a lot of what we see seems to me like repeating the content ideas from older games but spreading it out to make as much dlc as possible; i had a lot of more wow reveal moments with ts2 & ts3 i feel like but cant truly be sure bc brain is mush

#ok here we go im keeping this one #two ppl saw the og #i love love love to know what people miss in the game + their opinions and this just felt like a fun format #wish fulfillment #but with typos #bingo #roadmap #kinda #long post #repost #raccoon only #sims opinion #sims discourse #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims related

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Chapter 18

18 + only (sub reader/bucky, dom zemo, first time m/m, collars/leash kink, and more please see masterlist for full warnings)

Warnings and summary - Masterlist

The directions were simple

“Go into the bedroom, you may help one another, and when you’re done getting ready, wait for me on the bed. The collars are in the bottom drawer…”

Bucky follows you, his hands wandering; stroking your hair, your back, your neck. He’s never going to be able to follow rule three if he keeps this up. You laugh swatting his hand away, trying to avoid his touch as you open the door to the bedroom.

Inside, he watches as you go to the closet and find the items just as Zemo said you would.

“How do we know which are which?” He asks from the bed.

You turn and grin holding them up.

His is thicker, heavier, and you wonder if these were in the crate Oeznik did not open.

“Me first?” You offer going to him.

“Sure” He says and watches you pull your tank top off over your head and toss it onto one of the plush chairs in the room. Bucky surprises you and finds the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down easily. He tugs the silk organza off your hips with a cocky smile as the fabric falls, giving you a little wink that makes you roll your eyes, giggling with your tongue between your teeth. Oh fuck it—your underwear comes sliding down your thighs too— no use pretending this won’t escalate quickly.

“Come closer.” He says and you stand between his legs.

He’s breathing hard already, his eyes bright with the excitement.

You look him over thinking about how beautiful he is. This is an established fact stated so many times it doesn’t need to be said. But you can’t stop looking at him tonight and you know it’s because you’ve lived with and loved him for more than a year now. The many connections between you run deep and now you’ll share in this singular experience with him. You feel… special.

Does he feel hesitant, you wonder eyeing his profile. You did the first time you ever had sex and you desperately want him to know that every time he’s ever tried to play the hero to you, tonight you will be his should he need it— but James is a lucky man. Zemo actually loves him. He won’t find himself under some greasy haired, overly perfumed son of a Low Town gangster who thinks he’s hot shit. You hold in a laugh at the memory of your “first” and his sad, selfish attempts to satisfy you.

Watching Bucky from the corner of your eye, you raise your chin and keep close so he can gather the leather around the back of your neck. He buckles it easily, and you feel that familiar sensation of your body waking up. The clink of the metal, the touch of the leather, your nipples perk, you feel the slippery response between your legs— it’s all nice but you want to focus on him and you hope your desire to care for Bucky as he would you shows through in your own movements.

Pressing the center of the strap to his strong neck, you pull one side and then the other, pausing to kiss his jaw, nipping at his ear, you make him practically giggle involuntarily. He tucks his ear to his shoulder, leaning away from you. You smile and loop the ends, finding the perfect notch. “How’s that?” You ask softly, running your fingers back around and down his neck.

His eyes close as he smiles. “Good. A little tight, but— I like it.” How the tides have turned you think, remembering the first time he ever heard those words from you when he reluctantly fastened you into your restraints.

Your smile matches his as you stroke his scruffy cheek. “Perfect” You quickly unbutton his shirt and smooth your hands under the lapels sliding it off his shoulders and in doing so actually catch a glimpse of a metal loop you hadn’t noticed on the back of the collar at first. “Oh wait. I think there’s more.” You say realizing what that other thing was in the drawer. “Hang on.” You tell him, leaving Bucky shirtless on the bed.

“What is it?” He asks as you go back to the closet and open the bottom drawer. You don’t answer but when you return with a matching leash he tilts his head —a little like Zemo does— looking slightly suspicious.

“This is meant to clip on.” You say wondering how he’ll respond.

Bucky’s eyes go wide for a second. He pushes his palms to his thighs letting this layer of information settle as he leans in and chuckles shaking his head. “He thinks I’m dog now?” He inquires with a brow raised high. He sounds ever so slightly disturbed.

You snicker sweetly “Hush.” You say and go to him. You lean around and clip it on, feeling his hands on your ass as you smooth the length of it out. The leash is long, but not overly done. It’s the perfect length for Zemo to wrap around his hand once and really get a tight grip. “More like, a puppy. A good boy.” You tease trying not to laugh too hard.

Bucky’s look of outrage does it and you can’t hold the laughter in. Still grinning you try to soothe the sting. “Im sorry, I’m only teasing. You’re a very grown man with very large muscles who could probably crush everyone on this ship if he wanted. You’re very scary and we all fear you.”

“Oh ha ha. You’re so funny,”

“Aw, okay I’m sorry. Really.” You say meaning it.

He glances up and you can tell he’s not really mad, you’ve teased him about looking like the least intimidating killer before, which truth be told is something you probably shouldn’t joke about given the hurt he’s caused but it was never his choice. “Listen.” You say and lay your hands on his chest. “I think he made it very clear how he feels about you James.” You say his name so he knows you’re not playing anymore and it works like it always does.

Bucky looks up at you, studying your face for a second or two before he breaks, and looks away flashing the widest smile.

“By the way. When did you tell him? How you feel I mean.”

He thinks back as if he can’t remember. “This morning.” He says a little awkwardly.

So that explains why he was acting so off and sort of fidgety all day, and why Zemo has been so quiet. “And he clearly didn’t say it back.”

Bucky looks down as though he still feels the sting of rejection. “It was —not good. We were on the top deck laughing about something and I just, well I went for it. I looked him in the eyes, I held his hand and told him. He just stared at me. Eventually he said something like thank you, I think, I dunno, I sort of blacked out a little.” He says looking towards the windows “He said he needed to “attend to something” and walked away. He kissed me first though” He says with a sad laugh.

“And you’ve just been acting like nothing happened all day?” You hate that he’s kept it to himself, what an awful thing to suffer through; then again, it is Bucky. He’s known worse.

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“Tell me?”

“Why so you could make it a thing?”

“Well yeah?”

“I’m not a kid.” He says your name and you back down a little “I’m a grown man. I’ve had my heart broken”

“And put back together.” You remind him.

His eyes dart up to meet yours and slowly his smile returns. You know he’s thinking about the dance and the beautiful moment that followed. “Yeah. Turns out he wasn’t as ready as you thought he would be. But it didn’t take long.” He says sounding a little smug.

“I never had a doubt about Helmut’s love for you. I wouldn’t have wanted you to come with me if I weren’t sure. So,” You gently pull the strap around letting him see, “when it comes to things like this you just have to be honest. He trusts that you will, that we will. If you don’t want the leash James, don’t have it. Never be too proud to say no.”

He’s listening and you can see him actually thinking about it. Probably assessing his boundaries and weighing them against his love for Helmut and his level of comfort. He’s not used to this feeling, you can tell. He’s so physically strong, there are times he probably feels invincible. He’s certainly not used to being intimidated by the idea of the unknown. But tonight you suppose it’s more than that. “Are you sure you want this?” You ask wondering.

Bucky leans back surprised by the question. “More than anything.” He says without hesitation. You exhale the breath you’re holding feeling elated for tonight to become the start of so much more.

“You look beautiful by the way, you have all night.” He says softly “I meant to say so earlier.”

Damn it Barnes.

Your lips meet in a soft kiss and you lean against his chest feeling small in the warm space between his legs as his hands slowly glide across your back holding you so close…

The bedroom door opens and you part.

Turning in Bucky’s arms you’re fully aware that together you must paint the prettiest picture. The way Zemo gazes across the room at the two of you, this notion is quickly confirmed.

He has to stop in the doorway and just take it in. You’ve never seen him at a loss like this before. But you’re standing naked wearing the collar he chose for you with your arms around the man he thought he would never have, now in his own soft black leather restraint and that leash held loose in your hand.

You slide it up slowly over Bucky’s bare chest letting it drag across his skin and he closes his eyes against the rousing tickle until it falls over his back. You know damn well what you’re doing as you look back at the Baron with big, innocent eyes.

“Get up.” Zemo says, his already rough voice gone deep like it does when he’s ready to destroy you both.

Bucky gently moves you aside and stands.

“Take off the rest of your clothes.”

You stand beside Bucky watching him strip.

“And why are you still standing?” Zemo asks the second Bucky is finished, as if it’s laughable that either of you should think to do anything other than kneel before him. Funny though, he doesn’t have say it again before you’re both on your knees.

“Safe words” Zemo says unbuttoning his shirt as he comes closer.

“Rapunzel.”

“Streusel”

“Songs” He says, undoing his pants, slipping them down and off.

“Anything from the sound of music.”

“Penny’s from heaven.”

“Colors James?”

“Red means stop, yellow means slow,” Bucky’s breath catches and you glance over to find the Baron pulling his head back by the hair just a little “Green— means go.”

Zemo slowly reaches with his other hand and grips the leash letting go of Bucky’s hair, but he keeps him in this back bent position as he trails his fingers down over Bucky’s face and traces his lips, lowering to kiss him before letting go of the leather strip. Bucky’s soft moan as he melts into the kiss makes the deepest center of your belly quiver as you take a stuttered breath in.

Zemo holds his face in both hands now, the tip of his nose grazing over Bucky’s, his lips gently kissing his closed eyelids and his forehead before leaving him.

Moving silently Zemo comes to you so quickly you hardly have time to catch your breath before his mouth closes in and your eyes roll shut as his tongue finds yours with ease. It is an unexpectedly calm kiss that makes your skin tingle. He knows that when he kisses you like this, you feel both his affection for you and completely overpowered; so much so that you do nothing but submit to whatever it is he wants. He licks the crest of your top lip, presses a soft kiss to you again moaning very quietly and smiles at you.

“Sweet girl… you taste like James tonight. Have you been kissing him?”

“Only a little.”

He laughs “It’s all right. I like it.” He lifts your chin holding onto your jaw as he smooths his hand onto the top of your head, keeping it there. He sighs deep in his chest, and you look up at him waiting, wondering if he will show you his gentle side…

He sighs and smiles at you shaking his head just a little “You do like to tease me don’t you?” He clicks his tongue with a disapproving tsk-tsk. “Oh, I will enjoy this.” He pets your head and you watch the way he looks you over; naked, on your knees, willing to be his completely and there is the most beautiful darkness in his kind eyes.

You swallow feeling your throat resist the collar. You want to smile but you’re a little afraid of what he means and you know better than to assume.

“James.” He says looking over, with you still held close in this slightly awkward position.

“Yes Baron.”

“Go to the center of the room, sit and wait.”

“Yes Baron,” He says and gets up leaving your line of sight.

His grip on your face tightens. “Beautiful girl.” Zemo says looking back down at you, his eyes wild like they were before he was sent away, “Forgive me. I will enjoy this…”

Bucky never looks away from your punishments anymore. Now he watches with a jealous sort of lust that makes it all the better.

His eyes are fixed on you as he waits from his place in the center of the room and you are momentarily distracted by him which is nice because you need a break from the pain.

“You do like to tease, don’t you.” Zemo says circling you slowly. He sighs pretending to feel sorry for you.

Your fingers are interlaced on top of your head and you don’t dare put them down again after he gave your palms a slap with the leather— how silly that you hadn’t considered that the leash could be used against you. Now you’re here paying for underestimating Zemo and your earlier actions.

Your lips and eyes shut tight but you manage to open you mouth and answer him. “Yes Baron.”

“I know.” He says, his tone all too cool. He steps in front of you again and you wait breathing fast knowing that it’s coming.

That thin leash strikes the tops of your thighs licking your skin with the heat of fire and you hold in your cries, looking across the room at Bucky whose narrowed gaze shows some ounce of sympathy, but mostly you see how badly he wants to get up, push Zemo out of the way and fuck you.

When the next few strikes criss cross your thighs in a pattern of pain you give in, unable to take more and sink down onto your heels, your shaking breath nearly turning to tears.

Zemo stops and comes over pulling you back up onto your knees by your elbows. “Look at me.”

You won’t

“Look at me.”

You open your eyes but you hate him right now.

“Don’t tease.” He says shaking his head. He smiles and kisses your cheek, ignoring your angry face. “But, I have to admit, you are an incredible dancer. Next time, let me touch the parts I like most, yes?” He asks tweaking the tip of your nose.

You roll your eyes but quickly mumble. “Yes Baron”

He laughs a little and kisses your forehead. “So feisty tonight,” He says petting your head. “Should we continue until I’ve whipped it out of you?” He asks, standing with the leash dangling in his hand, both the front and backs of your thighs stinging.

“No! I’m sorry.” You insist while thinking back to how you shook your ass in the lounge and how you can’t wait to do it again. Maybe next time you’ll be able to take more of the consequences…

He smiles stroking your face.

“Fine.” He gazes down at you for a little while until you calm and eventually his hand feels as good on your skin as it ever has. “James.” He calls.

“Yes Baron.”

Zemo walks over going around behind Bucky and clips the leash back onto his collar, the sound is soft but chilling. You see the way Bucky’s eyes close and his muscles tense. “Come, let’s make her feel better. I think she’s learned her lesson enough for tonight.”

Both their eyes are on you.

You watch Zemo take that leash in hand and wrap it around his palm closing it in his fist like you knew he would, but you’re curious if he’ll actually take the next step, so you wait holding your breath. Sure enough, as he orders you to lay on your back with your legs spread, Zemo pulls Bucky along making him cross the short distance on all fours.

Holy shit…

“I want to hear her say your name.” Zemo says as Bucky lowers “I want you to make her come like you did while I was away.”

Bucky does not hesitate and your entire body responds to the warmth of his mouth closing in on you. Your toes curl to points, your knees bend boxing him in, your back arches high letting your chin lift until the top of your head is nearly touching the floor.

He licks up the center of your divide parting your lips to circle your entrance quickly, you can hear and feel his arousal as soft, muffled moaning against your wet center and when he slides his hands under your ass and raises you up like a plate to be licked clean you nearly scream.

As he finds a good rhythm it does begin to feel just like New York. Bucky always loved burrying his face between your legs for as long as you wanted him to, there was never a rush, never any pressure to hurry, just this sort of lazy enjoyment that consumed you both.

Helmuts voice sounds very distant as he asks, “Does it feel good?” He already knows.

“Yes” You sigh feeling relaxed after a while, Bucky’s fingers press into the fleshy parts of your backside and you smile.

The sharp crack of leather on skin makes you jump and your eyes fly open. Bucky gives a surprised but subdued yelp that gets lost against you.

Helmut doesn’t want you relaxed, he wants you screaming.

You’re dropped to the floor and the flicking of Bucky’s tongue becomes a heavy, more determined effort, amplified by the way he moans as Zemo takes a knee behind him and directs his attention to parts of the soldier’s body that you can’t see.

So it’s like that tonight.

It might be out of your line of sight, but you can imagine what’s happening based on the lovely sounds Bucky is making; all those deep moans laced with a hint of pain and you open your eyes gasping as he vigorously begins to suck your clitoris.

From the throws of your rising orgasm, you sense eyes on you and manage to look. Helmut is watching, left hand down busy with Bucky between the two of you.

“Let go, don’t hold back.” He says looking in your eyes as you pant. “I like to see it. I like to see the way you nearly cry when he makes your thighs shake and you say his name when you look at me.”

When you moan it’s the sort that you’re not in control of, it’s a response to the things Zemo is saying to you, a reflex that grips and holds as tight as your collar.

His right hand glides across the horizon of Bucky’s raised ass, the leash rolling along with it and you toss your head back and flex every muscle as Barnes puts his all into devouring your pussy.

His head moves up and down as he works his tongue, but it is the sight of that single, otherwise innocuous bit of black leather held by the man in control of it all that sends you over the edge.

“Would you like to come?” He asks his favorite question.

“Please,” You beg.

He pulls the leash; you feel the loss of pressure which is maddening. That smug little smile on Zemo’s mouth making it both better and worse.

“Please Baron.”

“Did you ever think of me when he fucked you?” He asks suddenly curious. "When he licked you like he is now?”

“Sometimes,” You confess still breathless.

Zemo frowns and pulls the leash harder. The muscle of his arm flexes and you hate him when he denies you a climax but he looks so good doing it. Bucky rises up to sitting to stop from being choked.

On even level with Bucky now, Zemo reaches around to grab his wet chin. “You were a good substitute soldat I’ll give you that much… she does seem ready to come, what do you think?”

Bucky gazes down at you licking his lips slowly—tasting, you, smelling you— he’s happier than he’s letting on and you know he’s just thankful for the permission to have your legs wrapped around his neck again. A hint of his own dominance flickers in his eyes. He stares at you with your thighs parted for him, moaning softly as they rock open and shut from wanting more. “Yes Baron. She does.” He says and the way they look, towering over you together with Zemo like a dark shadow behind the tightly wound power of Bucky; you bite your lip and swallow hard so ready to be devoured.

“Go on, finish her off,” Zemo says and gives him the slack needed. He pushes Bucky back down and the wonderfully obedient Sergeant dives back in.

The pause only makes the continuation better and when you see Zemo reach between Bucky’s legs again, you feel, not hear Bucky’s response as a deep, heavy moan that vibrates against you.

Your orgasm is nearly instant.

The rhythmic pressure rises until its inescapable; your voice goes high and your body jerks once with the perfect shock of pleasure, holding tight until you melt into the pulsing release, moaning again and again, thrusting against his face until you are shaking and yes, in the end you say his name. Just as your Baron wants. You breathe it, gasp it, reach and pull his hair, shoving his face deeper into the throbbing result of his skilled tongue as you smile “James” You sigh releasing him as you sink to the floor with a shiver so happy to have said it.

In the dizzying afterglow — your arm draped over your eyes, your breath shallow, your legs completely useless— you keep your eyes closed until their sloppy kiss breaks the silence.

“And now, you taste like her” Helmut says with a soft laugh against him, followed by the distinct sound Bucky makes when anyone touches him, especially on the underside of his shaft where he’s so sensitive it’s almost cruel— you really do love that sound.

From under lazy half open eyelids, you watch the smooth motion of Zemo’s hand stroking Bucky a few times. His smiling approval has a warm humming tone as the solider grows harder in his hand, and then Zemo kisses Bucky’s cheek, gets up and leaves him throbbing.

You just close your eyes again, still feeling so high.

Helmuts return rouses you and when you manage to open your eyes it’s just in time to see the blindfold come down covering Buckys’.

He goes stiff, alerted and resistant for a moment, but Helmut is there whispering to him in Sokovian to calm him like one would a prize stallion. He takes a knee behind Bucky and gently slides the elastic band further down around the back of his head.

With a look of lust and wonder at the man he gets to have, Helmut smiles and smooths his hands down both of Bucky’s shoulders, kissing the metal one as he slips his hand through the space between his arm and waist to lay it flat against Bucky’s stomach pulling him close.

“Can you feel how hard you make me?” His deep voice sounds needy in Bucky’s ear.

You sit up a bit, somewhat recovered from your climax and watch the way Bucky’s pretty mouth opens, how he doesn’t know what to say, how his powerful form looks both stronger in his bondage and yet so ready to submit.

“Answer me.”

“Yes Baron.” He says, barely audible.

“Are you afraid of this? Of me?”

“No…”

“Good” His eyes peer down at you in the dark “Come” He motions with his free hand, two fingers like he does inside of you, “Take him to the bed.”

You stand slowly, accepting Bucky’s leash, raising it high as it can only be done from the back and pull him up. For a moment you feel every ounce of control and power that Zemo must, then you take his hand and lead the man along.

“We’re at the bed” You say and lay his hand down letting him feel it. Bucky’s not so timid as you might be without your sight and you’ve been in his position many times before, but you can feel him being careful as he follows you onto the cool bedding.

“On your back” Zemo tells you not far behind.

You crawl up to the pillows and turn over.

“Legs open, he’ll find you.” Zemo says with confidence in Bucky.

“Go to her James.” He says, his eyes flitting from you to Bucky’s profile and along the length of his beautiful form.

For a second you don’t think he will, but he does in fact make his way to you and quite easily. Super heroes— you grin and roll your eyes. Bucky finds your foot and you flinch, giggling from the tickle. He smiles too and gently grabs your ankle, smoothing his hand up to your knee, his fingers reaching and then closing over the curve as he waits to be told what to do with his head tilted ever so slightly as he listens for Zemo’s voice.

Watching from the edge of the bed, Zemo looks distant and detached in a way that sends a chill down your back but you don’t mind, there’s something thrilling in the voyeuristic nature of it. “You may break rule three.” He finally says.

With a soft gasp of surprise you stare at Helmut a little shocked to hear him say it. Bucky however does not need to be told twice.

He parts your knees and you suck in your bottom lip watching the White Wolf hover over you.

His silhouette is stunning. Just long curving lines of tense muscle and power and that vibranium shining black and gold, reflecting the moonlight from the large windows.

Both his hands move up to your thighs before you can stop him and you hiss from the pain— a reminder of Helmuts earlier punishment. Bucky loosens his grip instantly choosing instead to slide his metal arm under your hips, pulling you down flat onto the bed. You look down between your bodies and see him so hard and so ready that he’s making you eager for it in spite of already feeling spent. He however could go all night.

Bucky lifts your ass while lowering his own to blindly find and spear you without hesitation.

You gasp like the air has been knocked from your lungs. Your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder and neck and his open mouth finds yours as he starts to thrust, punching his hips forward. Your loud, awful cries are muffled by his deep kiss. He’s been craving you since the last time and it shows.

“She feels so good after she comes.” Helmut says now on the bed with you. “Theres nothing quite like it” He’s close, you hear him just over Bucky’s shoulder but your eyes stay shut.

“Yes” Bucky exhales in your ear holding you so tight. “She feels incredible” He moans.

“So do you.” Helmut says, and you let your eyes open to find him beside you. He’s watching with the hard look of a man who loves as much as he wants to destroy. It makes you smile before you look away just as Bucky jerks his hips forward drawing a loud cry from you. “Don’t stop James. Whatever you feel, don’t stop,” Helmut says, his voice fading.

You slide your head over a little and see him behind Bucky running his hand down the man’s back. He then reaches back and you hear the snap of a bottle but you can’t see so you close your eyes to listen.

“Don’t stop.” Helmut mumbles again.

Bucky disobeys almost instantly. The leash is pulled. The smack to his ass is loud. He starts again and you smile, loving the feel of his ordered thrusting, though it is hesitant. He lets go of you and reaches up, running his fingers over the black satin that blinds him like he might take it off but thinks better of it and keeps fucking you instead.

“You’ve had this before.” Helmut says assuring him that it’s nothing new.

Bucky groans a little slowly grinding against you though he turns his head to the side. “You’ll make me come.” He says, his jaw clenched, voice deep and harsh in warning as he licks his lips, pressing them tight with a tense moan.

“Not yet.”

You stroke his hair where it’s very short at the nape of his neck and nip at his ear, “Don’t come” You say softly and he turns back to you, the tension easing in his shoulders a little as he fucks you just a bit faster.

“Slowly.” Helmut tells him and Bucky moves his hand in close to touch your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You kiss it and lay your own hand over his, letting him feel your smile as you moan from the way he moves. “Like before, yes?” Helmut says.

“Mmhm” He agrees.

”Just like before so that you will know what to expect, even when it’s not the same” Helmut says softly and you open your eyes. Bucky turns his head left to right, curious, excited and nervous. He opens his mouth and you stare at it, hypnotized by the way he expresses every second of what he feels. He bites down on his lip but lets go just as quickly with a gasp, a moan, a sharp hiss and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

That, must have been two fingers.

He takes it though, and turns back to you slowly, cautiously starting to draw back and push forward again enjoying the stimulation that will make what comes next easier.

“Are you okay?” You whisper through your own shallow breathing as you kiss along his collar bone and run your fingers down his arms.

“Yes” He damn near growls and kisses you hard.

Lost in the feel of his perfect lips and thick cock, just as he starts to find the perfect rhythm, you’re taken by surprise when you feel Bucky groan deeply. He pulls away, turning his head again and even through the blindfold you can see his deep frown.

With one hand firm on Bucky’s side, his fingers pressing deep into his ribs, the Baron’s words melt into Sokovian and his eyes close. You aren’t sure at first, not until you see his right hand on Bucky’s back pushing down just a little and Bucky’s thrust stop completely— not because he’s been told to. Then you know.

The sound, god that soft, unmistakable sound of being taken fills the room and for once it’s not coming from you.

You hold your own breath and reach up cradling his face. You want to look into his eyes but the blindfold was put there by the man you both obey and you think you understand why. It has him so keyed into every touch, it’s heightened even the lightest sensation, that you wonder if it’s fair, it must be so intense, but it’s already happening. And you realize that as good as Bucky still feels inside of you the fact that Helmut is almost inside of him nearly pushes you over the edge.

With his hands tight on Bucky’s waist, you listen to Helmut moan deeply as he pushes past the resistance to smoothly but very slowly, inch by inch, fill him.

Bucky is loud in your ear, louder than you thought he would be and you smile holding him tight until he sighs sounding somehow both relieved and overwhelmed.

“It’s done.” Helmut says between tight breaths leaning over him, “Are you all right?”

Bucky nods against you.

With his cock finally sheathed and the two people he loves beneath him, you get a taste of what the future holds as the Baron starts to, in a sense, fuck you both.

Helmut pulls back. You can tell because Bucky shakes his head in protest, just a little. He pushes up between you like he might want to stop but you stroke his face and bring him back down showering him with kisses until your tongues are playfully rolling along and he seems to be reminded of how good it feels to be buried in your tight walls with you flexing and pulsing around him, so that when Helmut thrust back into him again you both moan together.

He pulls from your lips mouthing “Oh… fuck” with a stuttered breath and if he’d said it, it would have been a shout.

It’s enough to make you moan again beneath them and for a second you close your eyes just letting it happen to you instead of being a part of it until his tone changes and you think maybe its to much…

Helmut pulls the leash and brings Bucky up somewhere halfway between the two of you. “Are you all right?” He asks again reaching to turn Bucky’s face to profile, letting his lips brush his ear. Bucky flashes a breathy smile and nods reaching back, his cold fingers spreading across the top of Helmuts thigh. “Yes.” He manages.

Helmut smiles then, thrusting slowly up and in, laying his head on Bucky’s shoulder to make them moan together and the resulting slow return of Bucky's cock into you makes you join them.

Helmut lays a slow line of kisses across his neck, towards his shoulder, one hand curved over the black and gold, the other snaked around his waist and against his solid stomach as he controls himself, fucking him just a little faster now.

Bucky is as noisy as you are. He hisses when Helmut draws back, his fingers gripping harder on the top of the Baron’s thigh. Zemo unwraps the leash from around his hand and pushes Bucky back down wanting to see you both again.

You moan at the feel of him deeper inside of you, but look beyond Bucky to Helmut; he’s so beautiful with his brow furrowed as he fucks. He looks down at you, legs spread, pussy filled with another man’s cock. He loves it and reaches for you and you for him, your fingers finding one another to interlace. He looks deep into your eyes, his gaze fixed and he refuses to break the link between you even as he bluntly thrust into Bucky until any notion of his “first time” is completely destroyed. Bucky so perfectly becomes this submissive, moaning mess between you.

“Please,” He gasps, your fingers tracing his collar as he raises up “Please, I can’t hold back.”

Helmut just leans over him sighing against his back, holding him tight.

“It’s too much” Bucky says and you try not to moan but the weight of Helmut pushes Him into you and he feels so good.

“Do you want me to come?” Helmut asks sitting up.

“Yes” Bucky answers.”

“And would you like to come?”

“Yes. Please!” He pleads.

Helmut smiles at you, quickly taking your hand to kiss your fingers before letting go and grabbing Bucky’s waist to hold him down. He draws back and snaps his hips forward making the man truly cry out for the first time and you wrap your arms around his neck feeling yourself pulse. You try to hold back too.

Helmut moans deeply enough to get your attention but when you open your eyes and see the look on his face, you know it’s not over yet.

“Beg.” He demands

“Please.” Bucky says in your arms.

“Louder.”

“Please may I come.”

Helmut leans down, his cock drawing back and out, Bucky’s head raising as he does his mouth open looking anxious.

“Louder.” He shoves forward again driving into him which pushes him deeper into you and you press your forehead into his his chest as Bucky nearly cries into the pillow.

“Please Baron.” He actually begs. “Please, I can’t take it… I can’t take more.” And you can hear it in his voice, he’s not talking about the denial.

“Yes.” Zemo exhales in his ear. “Yes come.”

Bucky pushes up showing just a fraction of his strength, and you truly don’t know who is fucking who harder.

Someone has taken hold of your ankles, some else is pushing down on your knees. Bucky’s body flexes and he thrust deep, pushed further by Zemo. He moans through a clenched jaw going stiff before the pulse and warm rush which sends you over the edge with your own climax and you gasp as you cling to him wondering if you’ll always come together now.

The familiar sound of Helmut sighing loudly and breathing hard tells you that he’s only a second behind the two of you. You wish you could touch him…

Bucky is very still as it happens. You watch him openly accept Helmut’s warm ropes of come. You watch him feel exactly what you do right now, what you have countless times— that explosive finalization of being claimed by the man who dominates you so perfectly.

And when the heavy breathing slows, when everyone calms a bit, when you all start to ease back and away— it’s over.

“Bucky” You whisper.

He turns his head towards your voice and knows the tone. Its how you say his name when you’re worried. He smiles a little and leans down to kiss you lightly. Good. He’s not broken.

But maybe you are…

You can’t move, you don’t even want to try, you just wait until the layers of bodies fall away and the cool bedroom air hits your skin and slowly, scared to know what shape your lower half is in, you close your legs, feeling the deep ache in your hips. Your body is spent.

Time passes slowly before you move again and when you do, you prop yourself up onto your elbow somewhat surprised to find Helmut beside you and not Bucky. He’s on the other side lying on his stomach.

The blindfold is on the pillow and his eyes are open. His unfocused gaze seems a little shaken but at least he’s smiling.

“Did we hurt you?” He asks blinking and glancing up when he notices you staring.

Still the damn hero. After all that. “No Bucky.” You smile and roll your eyes laying back down, curling up beside the Baron who rubs your thigh. “You didn’t hurt me.”

You sigh deeply and let your mind go blank closing your eyes again, welcoming the calming silence.

“James” You hear from the edge of the bed.

You must have fallen asleep.

You think Bucky might have too, but you can’t tell. He looks down and Helmut motions for him.

He’s moving slow, rubbing his eyes, groaning as he twists onto his back, but Bucky does finally go and sit beside him.

Helmut motions for him to lower his head which he does and gently he unclips the leash and takes the collar from around his neck, pulling it free.

Bucky raises his head looking into those soft brown eyes for a while, the unspoken affection enough for a moment until he slowly folds into the Baron’s arms.

You turn onto your back wincing from all of your aches listening to their softly spoken words some of which are so low that you can’t make out exactly what they’re saying and that’s okay— but what you can hear is everything it should be.

“Not always.” Zemo is saying in answer to a question you missed. His arm is still around Bucky’s shoulders. “Whatever you want is what I’ll give you. You know my nature and I know yours but, never forget my many sides James.” He teases calling back to the earlier conversation.

Bucky sits up “I haven’t. And like I said. I want— well all of it— everything. You. Her.” He looks back over his shoulder and you smile at one another as he reaches back and strokes his hand down the curving arch of your foot.

Bucky looks back at Helmut and sighs. “I thought I knew how it would be… I had no idea.” He says still processing everything thats just happened.

Helmut looks at him and your heart aches with love as you’re sure his does. Bucky is the oldest person in the room with so much to learn. “It’s late, and if we keep on I’ll start getting emotional, I think Whitney Houston has a song about it and she’ll start fucking, dancing again” He tosses a nod in your direction like he just doesn’t know what to do with you.

You laugh from the pillows “Hey!”

“Go on,” Zemo says smiling “Get cleaned up and I’ll send her in after you.”

Bucky nods happily accepting a firm but quick kiss. “Yes Baron” He says with a hint of sarcasm. The submission is fading to the confines of the collar for now and Helmut watches him get up and walk away, with only the slightest change in his gait.

When he says your name you take Bucky’s place and bend your head letting Helmut remove your collar next. He unbuckles it and slides it off, dropping it to the bed; rubbing your neck, kissing where the buckle was. “Now lie back, let me see the rest” He says softly.

You don’t know what he means, but you do anyway.

Helmut bends over you and kisses the now dull, nearly forgotten marks left behind from the leash, but you still flinch. “I don’t mind when you dance, not in the least.” He confesses against your skin and you shut your eyes smiling. Oh. “You dance as much as you want to” He kisses the other leg tracing the fading lines towards your inner thigh. “When you want to and how you want to. So long as you know I’ll probably always find a reason to punish you” He says squeezing your hip, making you laugh. He pulls himself up coming closer and lets his chin rest on your stomach for a second. Helmut looks up at you and sighs rubbing your stomach with his hand flat. “You know that I love you? You— feel it?”

Your heart flutters with an unexpected rush of so many things. You know why he’s asking. A lot of this has been about Bucky, so now Zemo is checking in, making sure you still feel seen —Your dear, wonderful Baron.

You stroke his hair back lost in the clear brown gaze. “I need you to know, to always know.” He sits up sliding close along the edge of the bed so that he can look down at your face as a stream of Sokovian words tumble from his lips, his deep voice laying over your naked body like a blanket. “It’s clear this relationship involves three people and I may share my heart with him, but my love for you is no less. If anything I’m thankful to have a woman like you,” He pauses to lay his hand to your face, the heat of his palm against your cheek feels calming. “Someone capable of bringing the three of us together, no one else could have made this happen, just you.”

“Me?” You ask looking up at him leaning against his touch just a little more.

He nods “Yes, of course. Don’t be modest.” Helmut says stroking your cheek. “I may have loved him first, but you reminded me that it was safe to feel that way in the first place after everything… and to say the words out loud” You can see him thinking back, probably to the night you first declared your true feelings for him as only you would, and it makes him laugh softly. “I loved him first, but you were and are the one I need, so that I may love without fear.”

You feel that sunlight on your face, that warmth that only comes when Baron Zemo looks at you. Sometimes you feel like you will burn too bright from the heat of it; like a struck match. Sometimes you fear you will burn to ash…

You shut your eyes. Anything to break the spell.

He says your name softly and you open them a little embarrassed to find tears blurring your vision. Helmut wipes the stream that falls before you can stop them from falling down the side of your face with the back of his hand and bends to kiss you gently.

He pulls you up to sitting keeping you close.

“Thank you.” You say in his arms. He nods as he looks you over, like he’s looking to make sure you have no physical injuries he needs to care for and brushes a lash from your cheek before smoothing another tear with his thumb.

“No more tears. Go and get cleaned up, yes? You look tired, I was hard on you again."

You laugh hanging your head. “Both of us.”

He joins the laughter rubbing your back inhaling deeply through his teeth, the memories of tonight so good they hurt. “You don’t know; you have know no idea what it’s like to see the two of you…” You lean to the side to see his face clearly, “When you’re both beneath me, and you look small enough to break and he looks like a god” He smiles, a warm laugh mixed with a breath “And you’re both mine.” His smile fades into a look more serious. “And I am yours.”

You’re hopelessly in love with this man and lean in kissing him until you both feel the possibility of it becoming more which really should not physically happen, so you pull away.

“Go on.” He says tapping your leg. “Go and get clean and then come to bed.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll use the smaller bathroom across the hall”

”Okay, I’ll make sure Bucky’s okay too” You add and he smiles but looks up towards the door like he’s suddenly very worried “I’m sure he’s fine.”

You get up but stop and turn back to find him just sitting there looking off, lost in his thoughts. “Helmut?”

“Yes?” He looks at you, the shadows along his face making the sharp angles so pretty.

“Did you think you’d end up loving us both?” You ask and you can see that your question has surprised him.

He looks past you to the bathroom door again listening to the running water of the shower, then back at you for some time before finally answering. “I didn’t think I would give myself the chance.” He says and flashes a smile, the truth surprising even him. “Luckily I don’t always listen to the voices in my head.”

Authors Notes: I'm busy working on the final parts of this story as I've been learning how to work Tumblr thanks to the ever patient, ever wonderful, ever amazing @natbarnes1917 who is basically the best human alive and you should all go and read all of her stuff because it will make your day infinitely better. Thanks for your support and help bestie! and for encouraging me to never delete a single smut scene because why have one bj when you can have two!

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