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ohmystaxk · 3 days ago

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For there is beauty | Chapter Three: We listen, we don't judge

[MASTERLIST] | [CHAPTER 2] | [NEXT] (01/17/25)

Tags/Warnings: Awkward interactions, Reader is mean to Jayce, Viktor has a staring problem, Tension (wink wink), Making out, Conflictive feelings.

Summary: Jayce and you had been friends for most of each other's lives. So, why did he need to make things so complicated?

You decide to go to the Academy to clear your head. That's when you bump into a familiar face.

Fanfic's Playlist: spotify yt music apple music

Tracklist:

Promise by Laufey, Say Yes to Heaven by Lana Del Rey, You Right by Doja Cat, No One Noticed by The Marías

A sinkhole. A sinkhole would be nice right now. You thought as you were seated across from Jayce at your dining table. If only your mom had decided to stay for just a minute longer, the two of you would not have to silently finish your breakfast. You took another bite from your food, your eyes looking up every once in a while, attempting to catch Jayce’s attention. He did not look up a single time to your disappointment or your benefit.

You quietly picked up your plate and stood up to go wash it. It was a weird thing, to be able to tell whenever Jayce stared your way. Yes, it had been a terrible predicament for the both of you. But it wasn’t like you never saw him with his shirt off whenever he had just woken up when you went to his apartment. Or like the time he had to take a shower at your place because his water line was been repaired. He casually walked out fresh out of the shower with his pants on, water droplets fell down his chest as he dried his hair with a towel.

It was similar. At least you had a bit of fabric covering you.

“Can I?” His voice made you jump in place. You looked to your left to find him standing right there, empty plate in one hand, while the mug was in the other.

He was still avoiding your eyes. How is you seeing me, any different than me seeing you? You placed the clean plate on the drying rack and took a step back as you pointed at the spot you were a second ago.

“Go ahead.” Your jaw was tight as you turned around and started heading back to your room.

When you came back with your bag, Jayce was already putting back his dishes on the rack and drying his hands on the towel. You stood there for a second and watched him as he turned around. His eyes landed on yours before he looked away. You felt your heart beating fast, and your jaw tightened as you let out a huff. Without a single word, you walked out of your parents' house. Not long after, Jayce shut the front door and followed right behind you.

The whole walk to the Academy district was in pure silence between the two of you. Even with the awkward atmosphere, Jayce still walked right next to you, his shoulder occasionally brushed yours. But it wasn’t until the two of you made it to the corner street of the workshop, that you stood still. He, on the other hand, stopped once he was closer to the building entrance and turned around to look for you. His eyes landed on yours, but he looked away once again.

“Are you coming?” He asked, his hand went to the back of his head and scratched it.

Your hands tightened on the strap of your bag. If the two of you stayed alone at the workshop, you knew there would be awkwardness lingering there.

“No. I will go to the Academy. I will see you-.” You saw him frown, his eyes dropped to your hands and you gripped your bag tighter. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“I’m going with-.” He took a step towards you, but you took two back.

“No, you are not.” Your voice came out harsher than you intended. He stopped, his eyes widened, and you could see the hurt on his features. “I-I just need time to work on this, the workshop is starting to drive me insane.”

“I’m sorry-.” He started, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Not right now…I will see you tomorrow, Jayce.” You took three more steps back before you turned around and headed to the Academy.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounded loudly in your ears the further you walked away from him. You had not turned around, but if you were to bet, you were sure he just stood there watching you leave.

The Academy was not too far from the workshop—it was five streets away. You walked around the grounds until you were able to get inside. Your body forced you to keep walking while your mind replayed the look in Jayce’s eyes—how taken aback he looked by your sudden demeanor. Then there was the unexplainable anger you felt towards him. It had already been a bad situation for the both of you, but he just had to make it worse.

“Miss, a bit late, are we not?” Someone said to you. You blinked your thoughts away.

As you looked around, you realized you had entered the middle of Professor Heimendinger’s lecture. The Professor smiled at you from the podium, the harsh light directed at him offered a comfortable shadow for your heated face.

“I-I’m terribly sorry, Professor. I must-.” You tried to excuse yourself, but he was quick, pointing his arm towards the rows.

“Now, now. Knowledge doesn’t wait.” You blinked at him, your eyes darting around the room, only to be met with those amber eyes, a frown on his face as he was seated on the other side of the podium, a hand resting on his cane. “Take a seat now, you are always welcome back.”

You offered the Professor a tight smile as you tried to look for an empty seat. You walked up the stairs of the rows and sat on the closest one. Heimendinger continued with the lecture, his voice echoing as he explained theories you had already listened to last summer. Quietly, you pulled out your notebook and pencil. You tried your best to use this time to work on your research. As you continued to tune in and out of the lecture, your cheek rested against your hand as you started writing down notes.

After what could have been thirty minutes or so, your fingers played with your hair. Your hand started to hurt from the nonstop writing, and you let out a silent sigh. Your eyes suddenly met Viktor’s gaze, your heart leaped in your chest. He was resting his chin on his cane, his eyes staring your way through the dark of the room. His eyes shone just like you remembered they had all those months ago.

On instinct, you were tempted to look behind you, to follow his eyesight. Instead, you leaned forward on your chair, head tilted to the side as you raised an eyebrow at him. It made him realize you were staring at him as well, his grip on the cane failed him and his chin slipped off, causing him to lean forward. Immediately he fixed his posture, he leaned back on his chair. You felt a laugh trying to make its way out, but you smiled instead, bringing the hand against your cheek to cover your mouth as you looked away for a second, meeting his eyes again. And it was like he had done the same, a simple smile appearing on his lips as he set his cane to rest between his legs.

You were the first one to look away, your hand started to scribble on your notebook. Your eyes focused on nothing at all, looking up every once in a while towards his direction. Even with the distance between the two of you, you could admit he was good-looking. The way his hair was neat, yet messy made it look soft. His moles were placed in spots that made the voice in the back of your mind whisper at you to kiss them. His jaw was sharp and nicely defined. His lips were thin, but they had some plumpness to them. His cheekbones, and Gods did you like them?

Your stomach fluttered as his eyes met yours. It was those eyes that made your face heat up as he raised an eyebrow your way, tilting his head with a questioning look, mirroring your action from when you caught him staring. Your hand let go of your pencil, slowly finding its way to the edge of the small table and gripping the corner as you kept your eyes locked on him.

“This concludes today’s lesson!” The sudden voice of the Professor made your body go completely rigid, your eyes widened as you remembered where you were.

The students started picking up their things, some were already walking out of the room. You closed your notebook and put it inside your bag. As you walked down the steps and was making your way toward the door, the Professor called your name, making you stop in your tracks as you looked his way.

“What a lovely surprise is to see you.” He smiled, his furr rising upwards. “How are things going in the Astrophysics department? Not too complex, I hope.”

“It is nice seeing you as well. And not too much, just pushing through the lessons.” You smiled at him. But you looked up when you noticed Viktor walking towards the two of you, his cane bringing the attention of the Professor.

“Well, of course. I don’t believe I have personally introduced you to my assistant. This is Viktor, a wonderful inventor.”

You were going to explain how you already knew him, but the man cleared his throat.

“You have introduced us before, Professor,” Viktor said, and you frowned. Has he?

“Have I? Oh, please forgive my poor memory.” Heimendinger shook his head as he looked at the two of you. “How is the young Mr. Talis?”

“He is well, working hard on his studies.” You gave him a tight smile.

“Such a hard worker that one is. I believe that with you working by his side he will succeed even more, what a wonderful thing young love can truly be.” At that, you shook your head as you let out a laugh. Viktor frowned as he looked your way.

“You are mistaken, Professor! J-Jayce is not my boyfriend, we are not together.” You explained as he widened his eyes in surprise.

“Oh forgive me, I just thought so since the two of you are so very close.” You looked at Viktor, he looked away to fix the hold of his cane, putting his weight on it. “Well, if you are interested. I believe you and Viktor could be a wonderful pair!”

The both of you looked at each other in surprise. You could see the way Viktor’s face turned red as he coughed. You opened and closed your mouth as you looked between them.

“I-.”

“Now, I am to attend a meeting. I shall take my leave! Take care of yourself, Miss.” The Professor made his way out of the room, not leaving room to talk about his suggestion.

The door closed behind him, and the two of you were now left alone in the room.

“Please, ignore him.” Viktor was the first to break the silence, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t worry about it.” Your hand played with the little charm hanging from your bag. “Just caught me off guard.” A nervous laugh escaped you.

“You and me both.” He sighed, the hand on his nose moving up to run his fingers through his hair. “I knew him to be bold, just not this much.”

“If you live for this long, you must find some entertainment. And I guess you became his.” You watched him roll his eyes with a smile.

“I would prefer it if I were not.” The bright light hit Viktor’s face, casting a shadow on his left side. “How is your research going?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, “Don’t even get me started.” You leaned on the small desk next to the podium, crossing your arms as you looked at him. “I’ve been stuck with it for the past three months, the deadline is next month, and I still need to rework my draft but it is impossible.”

Viktor frowned, he shifted his weight on the cane while he took a few steps closer.

“I am no Astrophysist, but I could lend you a hand.” You looked up at him through your lashes, he stood in front of you, blocking the harsh light. “Could even give you some much-needed criticism. If you are up for it, of course.”

He tilted his head, a grin on his lips as your hands gripped the edge of the desk. Viktor stood close to you, much closer than he had back at the library.

“Much needed? Someone thinks too highly of themselves.” You crossed your arms. You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips as you heard him laugh.

“Well, I am the Deans assistant after all…But I am not one for ego.” Viktor’s eyes shone as he spoke. You were starting to realize that you liked his voice, the raspiness in the accent, and the way it was soft on some syllables.

“Could’ve fooled me, Viktor.” You uncrossed your arms and reached for your bag to pull out your notes. “But, if you could take a look at the mess I have written down, I will owe you one.”

You presented your notes to him, some papers were folded at the ends from being shoved into your bag throughout the months. Viktor immediately reached for them. His hand was slim, his fingers long and you could see a few small scars near his knuckles.

“No need for that.” He walked away from you, rounding the small desk to sit down.

“Trust me, you will want one after reading that.” You followed him, rounded the table, and hopped on the desk, sitting down beside him.

“How bad could it be?” You noticed him look at your thighs before he glanced up with a raised eyebrow.

“Umm, pretty bad.” You kicked your legs, gripping the edge of the table with your hands. “So, what exactly is it that you do as an assistant? I know you help grade papers and help run projects. Do you help with anything outside of the Academy?”

“If you are asking if I assist with anything counsel-related, then no. Only with the Academy.” He started reading, laser-focused as he answered you.

“But you have run into the Kirammans before, at least from what Cait told me.”

“Caitlyn Kiramman, you mean? You know her?” He frowned.

“Yes, she is a friend of Jayce and me. She tends to tag along with us at the workshop or whenever we come to the Academy.” You explained, resting your head against your shoulder as you watched him.

“You asked about me?” He looked up, a grin on his lips as he raised an eyebrow.

“N-no, she just told me she knew you.”

“She just casually mentioned me, then?” Viktor smiled as you looked away.

“Well, no, but I technically did not ask her about you.”

“So you spoke about me.” At that, you rolled your eyes. And maybe I told her you were my boyfriend, but that is beside the point.

“Are you going to read or not?” You heard him laugh, shaking his head.

Although you knew nothing about Viktor, you couldn’t help but realize you liked these little moments, he was not afraid to tease you and you were quick to do so as well. It felt like you and Viktor had already known each other, there was not a moment you felt awkward when talking to him. Even just sitting in silence felt comfortable. As you studied his features, you wondered how you didn’t try to befriend him before. You were always curious about him, you had hoped once before to get a chance to talk to him but never acted on it. You had known of Viktor for the past three years and you always saw him around the Academy.

“Tell me something about you. And if you want, I can tell you about me.” You gripped the edge of the table harder, feeling your heart rate quicken. Viktor seemed to think about it, flipping to the next page of your notes.

“I don’t like coffee, I prefer tea.” He continued his reading, you simply stared at him.

“I’m… surprised.” You tried to think of something to tell him, out of anything he could have said, he chose something easy. “I’m afraid of heights.”

“Heights?” He chuckled, but you were quick to point a finger at him.

“We listen, we don’t judge, V.” He raised his hand in apology. “Your turn.”

“When I was young, I got really into…rocks.” Viktor cringed as he said that, but you smiled instead.

“I used to collect leaves. When my parents and I came to Piltover, I became fascinated by them. I would always get the ones that fell from trees or bushes and I would preserve them. I still have a book full of them.”

“You’re not from Piltover?” He asked with wide eyes. You felt your heart suddenly beat heavily, your palms growing sweaty.

“Um, no. I’m from Zaun.” You confessed to him. It had been a while since you had to explain to someone where you were from. The reactions were always mixed.

“That makes two of us.” Viktor looked up at you, a genuine smile on his lips. You let out a shaky breath as you smiled back at him.

“You are? Oh, well, yes, I guess that does make two of us.” You crossed your legs, resting your right arm across your lap. “Your turn.”

“Pretty sure I just said mine.” He retorted, going back to reading.

“Fine…do you remember last semester someone broke one of the glass display cases on the second floor by the west wing?” You winced. Viktor slowly looked up, utter shock on his face. “Okay, it wasn’t me! I might have playfully shoved Jayce, and he might have accidentally bumped into the stand, and…”

“You two broke it?” Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose. Quickly you raised your hands in defense.

“It not our fault they didn’t have the stand secure to the floor! The wind could’ve knocked it down.”

“Unbelievable.” He said before he laughed. “How hard did you shove him?”

“Not hard, he just happened to miss his footing and hit the thing, it immediately tipped to the side and it just fell.”

“Well, I guess the good thing was that they decided to fix them to the floor afterward.” At that, you nodded.

Viktor continued reading, there was no noise in the room except for the quiet breathing from the two of you. The light bathed his features, you remembered the way he stared at you from the other side of the room during the lecture, his gaze heavy and unnerving. The truth was, Viktor was attractive. You had heard girls and guys whispering amongst each other, smiling bashfully whenever Viktor happened to walk past.

You had not noticed before how much you also stole glances at the man, how often your eyes connected. He told you in the library that he thought you looked familiar, only to remember exactly where you sat the entire year. He had to have known your name, he probably helped grade your papers. Viktor had to be familiar with your writing, so he ‘joked’ about you needing some criticism. It occurred to you then that Viktor knew you, he had to. The library was a coincidence, but he chose to talk to you when he could have let you leave. Viktor wanted to get to know you.

“Viktor,” Your voice came out so soft, close to a whisper. Your stomach burned when he looked at you through his lashes.

“Yes?” He had a soft frown, you liked his eyes.

“Your turn.” You let out with a breath, you could feel your fingertips tingle.

“Right, of course.” You did not miss the way his eyes glanced at your legs once again. “I like the color orange.”

You were fighting the urge to run your hands through his hair, you bet it felt soft.

“You knew exactly where I sat, even when you said ‘I looked familiar’.” Viktor’s jaw tensed, his throat bobbed, holding his gaze on you. “You also didn’t answer my question when I asked you if you thought I was charming back at the library, that hurt my feelings, V.”

“I didn’t mean to.” He answered too quickly, leaning forward just a bit, but stopping himself. “I think you are. Otherwise, we would not be here.”

“Good,” You grinned, and his eyes shifted back to your thighs.

You had not realized your skirt revealed more skin when you crossed your legs. You leaned back, pushing your chest out just a bit, your hands flat on the table as you tilted your head to the side, a smile forming on your lips.

“Is the reading going smoothly?” You watched Viktor look away to focus on the notes.

“Y-yes, your writing is rather clear to read through. You get your points across.” He cleared his throat, flipping to the next paper.

“I’m glad you think so. “ You leaned your weight on your left arm, making you be in Viktor’s view. “Are you sure you don’t want that favor?”

He looked up, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated when you leaned forward just a bit.

“Favor?” You could see his ears turn a pretty shade of red.

“I guess I need to be more direct then.” You leaned forward. “Are you single, Viktor?”

You could see the gears turning in his head, his eyes scanning your features as you stared back earnestly at him.

“Y-yes, I am…why?” He frowned, his eyes falling on your lips.

“I think you are pretty, Viktor. And I think you have an awful staring problem, not that I’m complaining. So, if you are okay with it, and only if you are.” You took the notes from his hand, the papers slipping away without any restraint. You placed them on the table. “I would want to repay you for helping me.”

“Repay me? How?” His eyes widened even more when you hopped off the desk, now standing beside him.

You leaned down, bending over to be eye-to-eye with him.

“A kiss, for starters.” You smiled gently. “Would that be okay?”

“I…Yes.” There was a blush on his cheeks, eyes jumping from your lips to your eyes.

You slowly leaned forward, giving him room if he wanted to change his mind. Your nose brushed his, and you gasped when he suddenly kissed you. There was a warmth that went through your entire body. Goosebumps covered your skin as you kissed him back, deepening the kiss. Your hands went to his cheeks. His skin was soft, and you felt a bit of stubble.

His hand went to your hips, pulling you in until you had no other choice but to sit on his lap. One of your hands slowly went to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair, it was soft. You pulled back to take a breath but immediately kissed him again, you felt your heart pounding in your ears as a hand squeezed your hips and the other rested on your thigh, he dug his fingers into the exposed flesh.

You pulled his hair, forcing his head to bend backward as you started kissing his moles. The hand on your thigh gripped it harder.

“You are so pretty, Viktor.” You whispered as you kissed his chin and his jaw.

“I s-should be the one saying that.” He struggled, and you opened your eyes to look at him. His eyebrows were close together, his mouth agape as he chased for some air. “It’s hard to keep my eyes off of you.”

“I bet it is.” You teased, kissing him again. The hand on your hip came to cradle your left cheek, his fingertips wrapping around a strand of hair.

“Someone might come.” He pulled away, finally opening his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, making his eyes look darker. His eyelids were heavy as he tried to look into your eyes.

“Yeah,” You started pulling away. “Maybe.” But Viktor was quick to pull you in once more, kissing you with hunger. A moan escaped you and you gripped his hair tighter, your arms wrapped around his neck.

The hand on your thigh slowly started traveling up, squeezing the flesh as it did. You then let go, pulling away as you watched him chase your lips.

“As much as I want to continue this, we c-can’t, not here.” You tried to get some air.

“You’re right.” Viktor leaned forward, and he hid his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. “Wait, continue this?” He murmured against your neck.

“Yes, y-you could come to my place.” You took in a deep breath, your mind was all over the place, hard to focus.

Suddenly you bit your lip when Viktor started kissing your neck, his hands greedily feeling your body. Unconsciously your hips started moving, and you yelped when Viktor bit the flesh, not hard but it came as more of a warning.

“Fuck, we need to stop before-.”

“Before what?” He asked with feigned innocence in his voice.

“You know damn well what.” You pulled him by his hair, and oh did you wish you could capture the look on his face. His eyelids were heavy, panting, his face a deep red as well as his lips, his hair a mess. “You look so pretty like this, V.”

“How far away is your place?” He tried to catch his breath, his whole chest going up and down.

“Five, maybe six streets from here.” You let go of his hair, your hand going down to caress his cheek. “But I need to do something first, I will give you the address.” You leaned down to kiss his cheek.

You stood up, your legs a bit weak, you grabbed your notes and started putting everything back in your bag. You found a notebook on the table, you flipped to the last page and wrote down your address, even putting down your phone line and ‘Come over in an hour or so. Don’t make me wait, V’. Behind you, Viktor still tried to catch his breath. You ripped the paper and left it on the table, clear for him to see.

You turned around, giving him another kiss on his cheek.

“I must go now. Calm down, and get some water.” And with that, you walked out of the room without turning around, not knowing if you could leave if you were to see in which state he was.

The entire walk to your apartment you felt as if you were walking on clouds, a bright stupid smile on your face the whole way, replaying the moment over and over again. You felt giddy like you were fifteen again. You went up the stairs to your floor with a small bounce on each step. You opened the door to your apartment, not even realizing the door was unlocked, when you stepped in you let your bag drop on the floor, not even noticing the jacket hanging on the back of one of your kitchen chairs. You started removing your vest, leaving it on the kitchen counter. You didn't even notice when someone stood up from your small couch, walking towards you. You pulled your shirt from under the waist of your skirt, undoing the buttons, your fingers were numb from the pure adrenaline you felt.

You turned around, only to find Jayce standing in the middle of your living room. You jumped, letting out a scream of pure shock.

“What the fuck, Jayce!?” You gripped your shirt, your heart beating fast as you saw him. “What are you doing here? How did you even get in-.”

Before you could even finish your question, he was suddenly hugging you tightly. His height causes your body to fit into his, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other over your shoulders. Maybe it was your previous exciting experience with Viktor that had your body react out of instinct, but you felt that warmth spread all over you. But the way his arms wrapped too nicely against your body, pulling you so close to his firm chest, and how he buried his nose against your hair as he let out a breath. It made your knees feel weak.

“I’m sorry.” His voice rumbled through his chest, you didn’t know why but he was holding you like he would never get the chance to do so again. “I’m sorry.”

Then you felt fingers on the back of your head, that sudden pain you felt from that nightmare. His voice was the same, but the sentiment was different like he had done something terrible. Then the pain traveled to your chest, and you gripped Jayce’s waist, something to ground you. A shiver went down your spine.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me, I am sorry I made you uncomfortable.” He held you tighter, and you tried to breathe, clinging to him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, the same spot Viktor had kissed, where he bit you. Your fingers flexed, your mind replacing Viktor’s kiss with Jayce instead. “I just needed to see you, I will leave if you want me to. I just had to tell you.”

You tried to speak, but your body and your mind were betraying you. It was just your body reacting to his touch, nothing more. This was Jayce, your best friend, your partner. You closed your eyes tightly, taking in a deep breath. Your hand reached the back of his head, hugging him with your other arm as you leaned your head against his. You let out a shaky sigh.

“I’m the one that should apologize to you, I was rude.” Jayce shook his head, his nose burrowing even deeper. “I was. It was dumb I got mad. You had a right to also feel awkward, I just took it personally. I thought it wasn’t fair I had seen you half-naked around my apartment, but when you saw me it was different.”

“That’s not what-.” He spoke against your neck, his voice muffled.

“Can we just forget it happened? I’m not mad at you, and I don’t want you to be this sad.” You gave him a quick squeeze, smiling against his shoulder. “Does that sound good?”

Jayce pulled back a bit, but he stayed there, you felt his gaze on your neck before he pulled back to finally see you. There was a frown there, his eyes big and sad.

“Yeah.” He murmured.

“Do you want some coffee? I can make us some.” You offered with a gentle smile. “Come on, take a seat while I make it.”

An hour had gone by, and you and Jayce were back to normal, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. One hour turned into five, it was evening when Jayce decided to cook for the two of you, laughing and joking while the two of you prepared ingredients. Five hours into ten when you and Jayce yawned, papers scattered around your living room. And then turned into the early hours of the night, with you lying on one side of your bed with Jayce lying on the other, completely knocked out from staying late and helping you out with your notes.

Viktor never came to your apartment, and he never called.

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thatesqcrush · 1 day ago

Text

Reel Temptation, Pt. 2

Rafael Barba x f!reader. P*rn star! Barba AU.

WC: 4.1K

Summary: It’s the Golden Age of P*rn, circa 1970s. Reader accompanies roommate to a casting call for an adult film. Little does she know that her life is about to change when she meets the male lead.

NSFW for graphic, detailed smut (incl. but not limited to, oral (m & f receiving), cum play, money shot, spanking, p in v sex , cigarette use.

AN: sex work is work. Sex work will always exist - we need to make it safer for sex workers to do their jobs. Continued criminalization of sex work and sex workers is a form of violence by governments and contributes to the high level of stigma and discrimination.

You sat in the chair of the dressing room completely fucked out. You were in your robe, loosely tied. The Judge’s cum was sticky between your thighs and was in the process of drying on your tits.

Sadie was talking your ear off, excited like a little puppy to share how her scene with Sonny went. You gave some nods and uh-huhs, to make it seem as if you were following along but in reality you were not. Instead, you were sitting in front of the mirror, staring at yourself. You had a beard rash on several spots of your body along with some dark marks. You were pretty sure if you lifted your robe, you would see bruises on your hips from how tight he gripped your hips.

This was not a bad thing. Oh no, not at all. You knew that you were in a way, ruined for men forever. When The Judge questioned if you could keep up, you sassed him back. Damn, he made you eat your words. You shifted in your seat, your pussy sore in the best way.

“Hello? Earth to—?” Sadie snapped her fingers in your face. You blinked rapidly, coming out of your reverie. “Hello?” The second hello was way more obnoxious than the first.

You glanced up at Sadie and felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I’m here - sorry, just tired,” you admitted sheepishly. “Today was...”

Sadie snorted. “I’ll say! That man straight up murdered your vagina. He rearranged your guts with that massive cock of his. I have never heard you be that loud ever and our walls at home are pretty thin.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot in response. Heat bloomed through your body. Sadie whistled and sat across from you, legs crossed. She bounced in place. “So spill.”

A staccato knock interrupted the conversation. You looked up into the mirror’s reflection and saw Rafael leaning against the door. He was fully dressed, in a white fitted polo and dark denim bell bottoms. He nodded towards you and took a drag of his cigarette. “You good foxy mama?”

You felt your cheeks flush once more. “Sound as pound.”

“Good,” he replied. “Do you like pancakes?”

You cocked a brow at his reflection and turned around to face him. “Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know about you, but I could go for something to eat. There’s a diner up the road that makes stellar pancakes. My treat.”

You smiled. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you.”

Sadie pouted. “Fine, I guess I’ll get the details later.”

You winked at her. “Good things are worth the wait.”

Rafael walked you out to his car - a Nassau blue Chevrolet Cadillac. You let out a whistle. “Far out.”

“Thanks,” Rafael replied as he opened the door for you. You murmured your own thanks as you climbed into the car.

As Rafael pulled out to the road, the Zombies song “Time of the Season,” came on the radio. You sang quietly along, watching the scenery fly by.

The ride was short, the diner not too far off. Your stomach grumbled as the smells from the kitchen permeated the air. The diner’s fluorescent lights hummed softly, casting a faint glow over the cracked vinyl of the booth. You sat across from him in the booth and awkwardly shifted, pretending to look through the laminated menu. You weren’t really sure what to say to someone after they fucked your brains out - not a boyfriend or a one night stand - this was someone who does it for a living and you’re just one of many.

“Pancakes, remember?” Rafael replied as he took the menu from you. He reached for his Marlboros and lighter before offering you a smoke.

Rafael leaned back, stretching his arm across the back cushion before shifting in his seat when the waitress placed a cup of coffee in front of him. His fingers traced lazy circles around the rim of the coffee mug.

“What do you think about doing this full time?”

You didn’t look at him right away, your gaze instead lingering on the steam rising from the coffee.

You let out a snorted. “Do you always pick pancakes?” you asked, your voice carrying just a hint of amusement.

The waitress returned with your Coke and Rafael used the edge of the table to open the bottlecap. He handed the soda back to you and you murmured a thanks before taking a long swig.

Two plates stacked high with pancakes are placed on the table. You thanked the waitress who ignored you and instead eyed Rafael appreciatively.

You shook your head before pouring syrup over your stack. “What do you mean full time?”

“You have a natural talent.”

You snorted once more, before responding. “For fucking?” You stabbed a pancake before eating. “Oh damn, these are good.”

You glanced up from your fork, your lips twitching into a small smile.

Rafael met your eyes, and for a second, the air between the two of you seemed heavier. “You didn’t answer my question. Would you want to do this full time?”

You sighed and put down your fork. “I— maybe? I don’t know. This was all Sadie’s idea. She had the big dreams of becoming a star. I just came along for the ride.”

“A lot of girls come and go. But when our video comes out, people are going to want more of you. Of us.”

You froze, then laughed to fill the space.

“You’ve got syrup on your wrist,” he said, leaning forward without thinking. He reached out with a napkin, brushing your wrist gently. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send your heart skipping.

You swallowed hard and your voice carried an edge of nervous energy. “Us?”

“Damn straight,” Rafael said, leaning back, but his eyes lingered a moment too long. “You are a stone cold fox and well, I’m… well just look at me,” He smirked, but there was a softness in his expression that didn’t match the teasing tone.

You ducked your head, focusing on slicing a piece of pancake. You chewed slowly, deliberately, and when you swallowed, your lips curved into a reluctant smile.

There was a pause, quiet but not uncomfortable. Rafael’s hand hovered near his coffee, but instead of reaching for it, his fingers rested on the edge of the table, close to yours. Not touching, just close.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, “it’s nice, doing this. Just… sitting here with you. Don’t get me wrong, fucking you was fantastic. But this is nice too.”

Your cheeks heated in response. “It is,” you agreed. A smile graced your face.

Rafael’s charming and handsome - in a way that was magnetizing and disarms you. His gaze is dark and heated and you recognize it from when you did your scene earlier with him.

Maybe he’s right - maybe this could be something.

Or it could be nothing. This was the porn industry after all - it’s fucking for a living.

Rafael broke the silence. “Come on mama, I’ll give you a ride home.” He waited a beat before continuing. “Does Sadie need a ride home too?”

—

Your call time was close. Any confidence you may have had has switched over to sheer panic. The Judge was a fucking beast. You think about how Rafael fucked that woman mercilessly and how hot it was watching his come spurt in thick, creamy ropes. You looked at the frumpy skirt suit that was picked out for you. You wrinkled your nose at it. Sure it’d only be on for a little but still - and it smelled like mothballs.

Your hair was pinned, trying to set the style and your makeup was sophisticated, not slutty. You stared down at what was beneath your robe - a cheap and skimpy lingerie set that made your tits look amazing. You dressed quickly and then slipped on the heels that accompany the outfit.

The scene was an easy set up: you would be in the library of the courthouse, poring over case files. Well, the library and courthouse were really just a set in an abandoned warehouse. “Scene change,” Nick replied as he set up his camera. “We just made it into a library. We couldn’t get the bench in time.”

You nod and fidget in your spot waiting. And after a beat, you see The Judge enter.

Rafael is dressed to the nines in a white button down and charcoal gray slacks with a crisp line down the leg. Finishing the look was a pair of suspenders. He reached for a black robe which you were sure was an old graduation gown and slid it on. Your mouth went dry. ‘Holy shit.’

He approached you with a swagger that reeked of big dick energy. A smile twitched on his lips as he took in your appearance.

“Right on. Follow my lead, sunshine.”

Your heart pounded in your chest but you nod regardless. The crew was finished setting up, assembled at the edge of the scene. Nick met your gaze and winked before snapping his gum.

“Action.”

You are pretending to look over a case file before you flounce to the bookshelf. You use the step ladder to reach for a dusty tome, making sure to stick your ass out.

In that moment, the door creaked open, and The Judge stepped inside, his presence filling the room with a warmth that made your pulse quicken. He’s pure sin to look at - you were certain you had seen hotter men in your life, but at the moment, you couldn’t remember when.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Not at all, Your Honor,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady as you step down, now back at the table.

“I admire your dedication to the law,” The Judge said, leaning slightly closer. “You have a rare talent.”

Your heart raced. “Thank you. I admire your ability to see the truth in every case. It’s a gift.”

The Judge tilted your chin up. “We navigate a world of laws, but I find myself wishing to explore something beyond the courtroom.”

You pushed yourself onto the desk and leaned back. You bit your lip and gazed into his eyes, which were blown dark with desire. Rafael’s eyes trek down to your lips and he can imagine them spit slick and stretched over his cock. It makes his cock twitch. Because the skirt was oversized, it was easy to ruck up and spread your legs. You crooked a finger at him.

Rafael sauntered over to you, settling himself easily between your legs. One hand went straight to your ass to pull your body against his. The other hand went to slide into your hair, cupping the back of your head to pull your mouth to his. He plunged his tongue into your mouth, sweeping against your tongue, exploring and tasting you. He tasted like gin and cigarettes and you sagged against him, relaxing as he kissed you. When he bit your lower lip, you gasped, feeling desire bolt through you like a lightning rod. He shoved the suspenders off, and your hands pressed to his chest, making quick work of the buttons. You elongated your neck, your fingers still expertly undoing the buttons. Rafael leaned over to kiss and nibble along your neck. The bristles of his mustache tickled you, making your skin twitch. You whimpered as his hands found your tits, kneading and teasing your flesh.

Rafael pulled away and removed his shirt, exposing his thick, solid frame. You drank him in - his hard nipples, the dark smattering of chest hair that trailed all the way down. You smiled and then shrugged off your suit jacket, followed by your blouse. Rafael’s mouth was immediately on your tits, sucking through the lace fabric. Your pussy throbbed in tandem with your heartbeat. You were already so incredibly turned on.

Rafael reluctantly pulled away and helped you off the desk so that you could strip away the remainder of your clothes. The skirt pooled at your feet and you stepped out carefully. You moved to roll down your garters, but Rafael stopped you.

You looked at him curiously, your brow arched.

“Leave them on. Panties too.”

“Your Honor, how exactly are you going to get that magnificent cock in me if I don’t take them off?”

Rafael smirked, his sea glass eyes sparkling. “On your knees.”

You sank to your knees, appreciating the bulge that strained against the zipper of his slacks. You ran your hands up the front of his thighs before nuzzling against his strained cock. You sat back on your hind legs and licked your lips watching in awe as he took his massive length out. He tightened his fist around the base and pumped a few times. One hand held the back of your neck, and the other guided his hard cock toward you.

“Stick your tongue out, sunshine.” You do as you are told, much to his immediate delight, swirling it against the head, tasting the heady-salty taste on your tongue. “That’s a good girl.” You wrapped your tongue around the tip and flit your tongue over the opening. His hand left your neck and immediately entangled his hands into your hair.

“Fuck.” Rafael grunted.

Placing your hands on the front of his thighs, you leaned forward, taking him slowly. Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth. You reached for his balls, rolling them around in your palm while you sank your mouth further down, gagging around the intrusion in your throat each time. A series of expletives echoed around the room. “Fuck yes, fucking incredible, fuck that’s it, good girl.”

You wrapped your hand around the base and move it in rhythm with your mouth, moaning and gagging, looking up at him with big, watery eyes. His head fell back, stomach muscles flexing, deep, satisfied grunts as his hips drove forward, nudging deeper.

“So fucking good, sunshine. You are so fucking good for daddy.”

His thrusts get harder and sloppy, telling you how close he is, and when you cup his balls gently with your free hand, Rafael takes a sharp breath, his fat cock twitching a few times. His hands tightened in your hair as he came hard down your throat. You take him deeper, sucking around his pulsating cock, slurping loudly, accompanying his low growling as he shot his warm, salty, white load into your mouth. You swallowed everything he gave, eyes still watering and throat raw. Rafael reached down to clean up the corner of your mouth with his thumb, and you take his digit into your mouth, licking it clean.

“Back on the desk. Lay down.” His voice was low and gravelly and it made you goosebump in response.

You do as he says and Rafael makes his way between your legs. You propped yourself up as you watched Rafael stroked himself languidly, a bead of pre-cum pearling at the head. His refractory time is non-existent as he is soon hard as a rock again. He used his thumb to swipe over it and continued to pump his cock. “Lay back. Spread your legs.”

You do as told, and that earned another “good girl” from Rafael, which made you inwardly keen.

Your hair was fanned out on the desk, your tits exposed. The garter straps were strained along your skin as the elasticity was pushed to its limits. He undid the hooks and then stretched your legs wider. He licked his lips at the very noticeable wet spot on your panties. He pushed your panties to the side. He pulled down your panties and he began to stroke himself against your soaked pussy. Over and over he rubbed his cock along your folds and swollen clit. It was rousing and lewd, the filthy act of him using you to get himself off. He let go of your panties, which were now stretched to cover his cock, providing a delicate friction. You played with your tits, squeezing and kneading as Rafael kept rubbing his thick, hard cock against you. The head of his cock slid against your clit, resulting in gentle pressure. It didn’t take long and you groaned, shuddering against him you came, your cunt clenching around nothing.

You were still in a daze, coming down when you realized your panties were being yanked off. Rafael bent down so that he was on his knees; his breath was warm against your soaking cunt, and you were desperate to relieve the aching in between your legs. He slipped a finger in and he let out his own groan of satisfaction at how easily it sunk in. Your cunt gripped his finger tightly and you sighed in relief at the feeling of his finger stroke you.

He slipped a second finger in then, his digits scissoring against your soaked, swollen walls and stretching you out. Curling the pads of his fingers up towards that soft spot inside of you, you couldn’t help it - you ground your hips down against his hand shamelessly.

“That’s it, good girl, gonna stretch that little pussy out, get it nice and ready for daddy. I am going to fuck you so good.”

You spread your legs as wide as they’ll go, giving Rafael the perfect view of how dripping wet your pussy is. The slick, wet sound is the only noise in the room, other than your whimpers and moans. His cock was already hard again, curving proudly against the swell of his belly with cum glistening on the end.

Rafael kissed along your thighs, before settling at your cunt. He took a deep breath, relishing the smell of your arousal before parting your fold to reveal your bundle of nerves. You felt a wad of spit land on your swollen clit and you hissed. His mustache tickled, albeit briefly, before the tip of his nose brushed against your clit, causing you to push further down against his face. You wound your fingers through his thick hair to steer his face and keep him in place. Rafael ate you out as if he was a man possessed, starved and maddened for your taste. You were wet before, now you were an obscene flooded mess. He alternated, fingers and tongue, scissoring and stretching you more. Your arousal gushed, flooding his thick mustache.

You looked down the valley of your breasts, through the plane of your body at the sight of the dark hair between your legs. There was no way you could go back to anything normal - not with the way Rafael was working you. He had already ruined you for other men and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

He circled your clit haphazardly with the fat pad of his thumb and you shatter, wailing as you come again, rewarding Rafael with a flood of your arousal. “Goddamn,” Rafael murmured as he helped you up to standing. You barely hear him, your nerves already white hot and sizzling.

Rafael kissed you deeply, and you could taste yourself on him. Any other time you would have turned away, but there was something about him that you didn’t mind. Your foreheads touch as you both pant. “You okay?” Rafael quietly checked in. You nod. “Yes. Keep going.”

Rafael’s eyes darkened with lust. He spun you around and pushed you over the desk. “I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy and you’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Please.”

Rafael smacked his cock against your ass before he pushed his way in. You cried out, gripping the desk hard as your walls adjusted to his size. “Fuck, you’re so big!”

“And that’s only half,” Rafael chuckled darkly. He pulled out and then thrust forward again, this time bottoming out.”

You gasped at the intrusion and Rafael trailed his fingers delicately over the knobs of your spine. Ebbs of pleasure began to eek out and you wiggled your hips, the sign to Rafael to begin to move.

“You feel so fucking good, such a perfect pussy.”

Rafael drove into you, pounding with a ferocity that has you cock-drunk stupid. You meet every thrust forward by pushing back onto him, your ass rippling with each piston. Rafael dug into your hips and you took him, just as he said you would. His hand swung back and he laid a hard smack on your ass. The crack and burn caused you to open your eyes - you hadn’t even realized you had closed them. You turned your head to look back and Rafael bent down to kiss you fiercely. He wanted more of you, all of you, it was as if you consumed him and he, you. He pulled you upwards, so your back was to his chest. His hand snaked up to grasp at your tits as he licked from your shoulder up your neck, chasing the salt of your skin. Your entire body trembled as your cunt squeezed him deliciously, the pleasure flooding you. Rafael’s hand snaked down to where you are both joined, easily finding your clit. His fingers rubbed furiously and you came hard, your body seizing and your mouth falling slack as you tumbled off the cliff into an orgasmic haze.

Rafael waited for your orgasm to subside, before he dropped you back onto the bed. His body was over yours instantly as his mouth crashed against yours. He rolled, so you were on top. “Come on sexy mama, ride me like you’d ride a cowboy.” He smacked the outside of his sweaty thigh. You lift yourself and sink down, taking him completely in one motion. The room reeks of sex and sweat as you brace your hands on his chest and try to bounce. “It’s too much! I can’t! You’re so fucking big!”

“Don’t be a quitter, sunshine. I know you can take The Judge.”

“Fuck!” You begin to bounce more fervently, every thrust delicious and as punishing as the last.

The orgasm burst out of nowhere with a force to be reckoned with, but Rafael doesn’t pause; he doesn’t even slow down. He planted his feet up and began to thrust upward into you. You fall forward and every subsequent thrust has you crying into his mouth, and digging your nails into his chest. Your thighs and lungs are burning but you don’t dare let up.

“Look at you taking it all like a good fucking girl,” Rafael grunted. “Gonna come again for The Judge?”

You nod into the crook of his neck and bite his shoulder as you come again, your pussy spasming around his cock. Rafael’s thrusts get sloppier and he stiffens as he comes inside of you. Your body is jello and he rolls you back onto your back, withdrawing at the same time. His cock is still spurting and he jerks himself to completion over your tits. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes,” he hissed repeatedly as he finally finishes emptying.

“Cut!”

You lay there, unable to move, completely wrecked in the best way. You curl into yourself and start laughing. “Oh my God, that was amazing.”

Rafael chuckled to himself. He pulled you up into kneeling and kissed you softly. “Glad you enjoyed yourself. I sure as shit did.” There was a tenderness on his face and you appreciated that he didn’t just saunter off. Someone approached with robes and towels and Rafael takes them, before handing over one to you.

—--

The ride home between you and Rafael is quiet with Sadie blathering on in the back. At one point he gazed over to you and arched a brow in amusement and you smiled in return. You rolled down the window and put your bare feet onto the dashboard. You lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke, your body sore and aching but completely content.

It’s late when you and Sadie finally get back home. Sadie is the first one in and you hang back to finish your cigarette.

Rafael approached you and took the cigarette from your mouth. He took a deep drag and blew out smoke circles in return. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a stack of bills. He counted out $500 and shoved the bills into your pocket. “Today’s pay,” he grunted as he kept the cigarette in his mouth. “Liv will be in touch. Think about what I said.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just nod as you watch him head back out into the night.

“Girl, get inside!” Sadie shouted through the screen door. “You owe me a story!”

You reached into your pocket and take out the wad of bills. You smiled before jogging back inside. Maybe, perhaps, it was time for a career change.

FIN

—

Tags: @beccabarba @melk917 @madpanda75 @dreamlover31 @plaidbooks @mrsrafaelbarba @mrsraulesparza @witches-unruly-heart, @pepperbstark, @privatetruths-blog @irishavengersassemble, @umnitsa, @duuu127, @viktoriasisk220015, @uhhh-hi-there, @storiesofsvu, @zoeykaytesmom - it’s been a hot minute so not sure anymore who wants to be tagged or not. Just msg me if you wanted to be added on. Apologies if I missed anyone. 💋

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba smut

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 13 hours ago

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i'm also a big fan of both! maybe tav will get the whip this time? i'm a sucker for raphael in traditional devil setting, it scratches something in my brain. for the rest, whatever you want is fine with me

Tav tested her restraints. Not looking for weakness, no. She expected none. The chains around her wrists were heavy-duty and clinched tight, biting into her skin. She wanted some leeway. She’d been strung up and dangled like a prime cut of meat, just high enough that her feet lifted off the ground without supporting her entire weight, leaving her strained and uncomfortable. That she was nude only made things worse. Avernus’ air was dry and hot, yet Tav shivered; she was waiting for him, and the dread, the anticipation, chilled her to the bone. She had no way to know how long he kept her waiting. An hour, an eternity, it was all the same. When she finally sensed him enter the room, each of his footfalls causing tight spasms in her belly as he approached her, she was already breathless.

“My, my,” purred Raphael, clear delight in his hellish eyes as he observed his prisoner. “So well-behaved…not even a squeak from you. I almost forgot you were in here.” He reached out one big and warm red paw and cupped her chin, lightly dragging the claw of his thumb across Tav’s bottom lip. “Unfortunately, no one leaves the Room of Shame without submitting to their punishment, but that’s a rule you know intimately…isn’t it?”

“I…” Tav hesitated. Raphael’s expression did not change, but he traced her lip again, this time pressing just hard enough to make a thin scratch. Tav winced at the sting, a taste of what was to come. “Yes, I know,” she murmured.

“Of course you do. And you know exactly why you’re here, hanging so…precariously…yes? Remind me.” The way he curled his smoky words with such sweetly sinister intent never failed to heat Tav’s cheeks, or moisten her sex. Apart from his grip on her face, Raphael was keeping himself out of reach. Reminding her of the distance, metaphorical and physical, between them. He was untouchable and she, a wriggling morsel for him to play with.

“I’m being punished because I…because…” Tav didn’t want to admit her transgression aloud. Raphael hummed throatily, his black and fire eyes glittering with dark delight.

“Every second you hesitate is another lash, dear…”

“I’m being punished because I played with the incubus without permission,” she blurted. She wasn’t sorry and he knew it.

“Indeed you did. You took advantage of my previous generosity and indulged in my unruly pet’s attention. How many lashes do you think you deserve for that, audacious little mouse?”

“Ah…um…t-ten?”

“Ten?” Raphael barked; laughed. “Ohhh, audacious and foolish, aren’t you? Were I not in such a good mood, I might’ve decided you deserved flaying instead for that.”

Tav shuddered. She was both lucky and unlucky as a warlock, with such a temperamental patron. She was too useful to be disposed of. There was the sound of infernal displacement and a whiff of fire and sulphur, and Raphael’s unruly pet himself swaggered into the room.

“Oh, excellent! You haven’t started yet,” Haarlep crooned.

“You weren’t invited,” Raphael growled. “Go back to the boudoir where you belong.”

“And miss a good old fashioned whipping? I think not.” The incubus clicked his fingers and summoned a chair that he, sensual and over the top, folded himself into, ready to watch.

“Fine.” The master of the house decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. “But be quiet and keep your hands to yourself.”

“Not a problem.” Haarlep winked at Tav. She couldn’t hold his lust-laden gaze, dropping her eyes to his bare feet – long, clawed toes that he deliberately wriggled, rubbed the arch of one foot with, reminding Tav of when she, out of her mind on spit and pheromones, eagerly gagged on them to the sound of the demon’s twisted laughter. He made her experience shame and humiliation beyond anything even Raphael was capable of. Haarlep smirked when Tav looked away.

Disregarding the exchange, Raphael cleared his throat. He was, after all, the most important person in this room. “What delightful instrument shall I use on you…”

“Cat O’ nine tails,” Haarlep offered helpfully. His suggestion was ignored.

“How about one of my old favourites?” The devil clicked his fingers and a long, thin whip with a flared tip appeared in his hands. “Yes…this will do. Simple, but effective. Sometimes a bit of simplicity is all you need.” He petted the weapon, fondled the black leather, testing its weight in his hands. Tav watched with baited breath. Raphael grinned, making a show of rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He was enjoying drawing it out, knowing Tav’s racing thoughts, her growing dread, would only make her suffering taste better. She knew better than to beg for clemency. Begging excited him, meaning he was inclined to strike her far more times than he promised. All she could do was wait. In a way, that was worse than the whipping itself.

Get on with it, please, she thought, on the chance that he might be peering into her mind, hit me already.

Raphael prowled around her, a lion circling his prey. Tav tensed, jolting when he stroked the length of her spine with one claw. “Such a pretty canvas waiting to be painted…where shall I make the first stroke?”

Deafening silence. Tav’s own heavy breathing. Then a mighty crack – the whip split the air, and Tav’s skin. For a brief, merciful moment she didn’t feel it, but the agony wouldn’t be denied. Sharp, burning. Tears sprang up in Tav’s eyes. Her body arched, her mouth open but her scream silent, shock and pain stopping her from making a sound. Good, because Raphael preferred it if she fought just a little, if she refused to give him what he wanted until he broke her. Haarlep shifted where he sat, eager and lascivious.

“How was that, sweet mouse?” Raphael cooed.

“F-fine,” Tav managed through grit teeth.

“Hmm…perhaps I need to make the next one harder.”

She could picture him raising his arm up higher, bending into the strike. He grunted as he swung. Tav couldn’t keep quiet this time, making a strangled noise as the whip ripped her flesh. Her mouth filled with blood; she’d bitten through the meat of her cheek.

“How about that one?” Tav struggled to speak, fought to push words through her copper-wet mouth. The devil chuckled. “Surely you’re not done in already…we’re only on the second…”

“No…I’m f – it’s f-fine.”

“Good girl.”

Tav briefly whited out with the third, calculated strike. He’d got her across her lower back. She could only imagine the expression on her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, because when her vision returned she saw Haarlep avidly watching her, feasting on her torture, his thighs spread. He squeezed and rubbed his fattening cock still in his harness. His forked and fraudulent tongue licked his thin lips that were pulled into a serpentine smile. Raphael released a quiet groan from behind. Arousal and frustration went into his next strike, and the next, and the next. Again and again and again. No break between, no leering in her ears.

Someone was screaming, guttural and wheezing. Tav realised it was her. She could feel her warm blood dripping down her back, over the swell of her ass. Raphael was shredding her raw; Haarlep had freed his red, ridged prick and was stroking it leisurely, enjoying the fruits of his impish, infernal misbehaviour. Never punished, always rewarded, but Tav just couldn’t hate him for it.

“There, now,” Raphael crooned, sounding a mite breathless, awed by his work. He rounded her. Through blurry eyes Tav saw a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, a lock of black hair unkempt from his effort. The whip was soaked crimson. The devil’s erection strained in his trousers and he was alight with fiendish frenzy. His tail swayed to and fro. He spoke with pride. “Quite the piece I’ve made of you this time, I must say.”

“It looked good from the front, too,” sighed Haarlep dreamily. “Choke her on your cock and you’ll complete it, I think.”

Raphael hummed, loosening his belt. His dick, hard and veined and heavy, its thick head leaking hot cum, sprang free. He clicked his fingers and Tav lowered to the ground, collapsing onto her knees – perfect height for Raphael to feed that fat dick between her slick and bloodied lips, into her warm and slack mouth. He groaned deep in his throat when his precum-sticky tip touched the back of her throat and Tav gagged. “For once, Haarlep, you’re right about something.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #fanfic #raphael x tav #cringe

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mykingdomforapen · 1 day ago

Text

It would be easier for Lu Guang to simply swallow it down and bear it. But it wouldn’t be right.

In truth, nothing felt right. Heels of his hands pressed against his swollen, dry eyes, a crick in his neck, his heart trapped in his throat. One side of his head felt like it was being pulverized, the pain of the migraine stirring up trouble in his stomach. And Cheng Xiaoshi’s dulcet tones in his ear, his pleas no longer endearing.

Lu Guang squeezed his eyes shut at Cheng Xiaoshi’s insistence.

“Lu Guang, come on,” he said urgently. “We need to finish this.”

This was a pile of photographs lined up across their coffee table, marked in chronological order, detailing the lifespan of a relationship between two cousins. The boys had grown up together like twins, Qiao Ling had told them when she outlined the case for them, but then grew apart after one of the cousins developed a gambling addiction. The last straw was when he stole money from his cousin’s mother to feed the insatiable beast, and the cousin cut ties.

He suspects that his cousin also stole their grandmother’s jade, Qiao Ling told Lu Guang in preparation for the case. He wants us to help confirm if that’s true, and if so–if he sold it.

Which would have been straightforward enough, if the gambling cousin was still alive. Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

Hence, the ten plus photographs on the living room coffee table.

Lu Guang shifted his hands from his eyes to his temples, giving them a sorry massage that only made him more miserable. He had been poring through photos for hours now, each of them a photo uploaded to the gamblin cousin’s cloud that the client had managed to pull, dating from five years ago–when the grandmother’s jewelry had gone missing–to five months ago, when the cousin had been found dead in his tiny apartment reeking of alcohol and debt. He scoured every interaction the cousin had with their elderly grandmother for any sign of theft, while Cheng Xiaoshi dived into any photo where he could root around the cousin’s apartment for proof.

Even after five hours straight, they could neither confirm nor deny anything. The instant noodles that Qiao Ling had brought over to them had grown cold and untouched on the side. Lu Guang’s scalp scalded with the migraine, and Cheng Xiaoshi stank heavily of eucalyptus oil smeared under his nose to assuage the nausea that came from back-to-back diving. Lu Guang could smell its medicinal chill when Cheng Xiaoshi came too close to his ear.

“Can you please back off?” Lu Guang said through gritted teeth.

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed as he threw himself backwards on the chair. Lu Guang avoided looking anywhere in his direction as he unscrewed a bottle of soy milk to ease his chapped throat. Cheng XIaoshi fared none better, but he had the self-perception of a goldfish to mask it.

“We’re so close, though,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “There were addresses to jewelry shops on his Baidu Maps search history. If we can find a photo that happened either right before or right after that one, I’m sure I can find more–”

“Cheng Xiaoshi, we’ve been at this for almost six hours,” Lu Guang groaned. “Taking a break for at least thirty minutes won’t make a difference.”

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed until his bangs flopped carelessly across his forehead. Lu Guang wiped his lips with the back of his hand, gagging slightly.

“What if I forget?” said Cheng Xiaoshi.

Lu Guang exhaled deeply, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring so that it came more as the exasperated hiss of a steamer.

“Then write it down, idiot,” he snapped. “Am I your mother?”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s jaw clenched instinctively, just as Lu Guang’s did the same–for a moment, hesitating, ready to bite down on the words before they escaped his mouth. But they had punched their way through his teeth nonetheless, and at the end of the day, Lu Guang would have let them. Even if he knew that, while he never commented on it, it stung Cheng Xiaoshi.

Because Lu Guang had said the same the first time they had this argument.

The first time they had this argument, Lu Guang was still only twenty years old. He and Cheng Xiaoshi muddled through their abilities with curiosity and bravado. The only thing Lu Guang was afraid of was drowning, and it was abstract.

The first time, Lu Guang grumbled at Cheng Xiaoshi. I’m tired, asshole, he said. Can’t you give me a break? Cheng Xiaoshi said something tone deaf–but you don’t even have to dive, you can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you–and at that, Lu Guang stomped up to the bedroom, muttering it’s useless trying to argue with you to himself as he locked the door behind him. He burrowed himself angrily in the bedsheets and didn’t emerge until Cheng Xiaoshi cooked an entire apology dinner.

I’m sorry, Cheng Xiaoshi said quietly when Lu Guang stuffed his mouths with softened carrots. Do you–do you want to talk about it?

He said it with his back straight, even though his spine was shaking. Arguments rarely ended well in his experience–usually with a fist to the cheek, or a door slammed in his face while all the neighbors looked disapprovingly at him with full assurance that he was in the wrong. For Cheng Xiaoshi to be able to talk to Lu Guang took a bravery and a faith that he had to fight for, that he had to learn with blood, sweat, and tears to get through this life.

Yeah, Lu Guang mumbled. I do, and they had finally laid their abilities on the table next to the pot of pork shoulder soup and small bowls of dipping sauce. This was new to the both of them, their magic of a great price, and they were learning their breaking points together. Lu Guang shared his needs to be met, Cheng Xiaoshi his fears of being of no help to others, opening their hearts to make space to grow, and at the end when Cheng Xiaoshi asked Are we okay now? Lu Guang said, Even better.

So Lu Guang couldn’t grin and bear it, as much as he hated this frustration, this headache, the thought of tossing and turning on the top bunk with a heavy, hurting heart. He and Cheng Xiaoshi needed this moment where they grew so that the other could take up more space in their lives. Cheng Xiaoshi needed to learn that he would be loved even if he was upsetting. Lu Guang needed to learn to be honest. They were precious truths that would have carried them through the rest of their lives, if Cheng Xiaoshi had lived long enough for it.

Except this was the second time Lu Guang was having this argument. Everything should be the same, but he wasn’t.

He wasn’t because Cheng Xiaoshi was dead, and yet alive for now. Because Cheng Xiaoshi’s mission-driven stubbornness was what got him killed, and Lu Guang now could see the all bloodred flags leading up to September. Because Lu Guang could now name the anxiety that drove Cheng Xiaoshi into doing things now, before the wait of them consumed him alive, but Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t yet and Lu Guang had to keep it to himself. Because he and Cheng Xiaoshi were plunging into the photos of a dead man over and over again, and every time Cheng Xiaoshi said something honest about it, Lu Guang had to swallow down how sick it made him feel. It’s so messed up, Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi had said, that this guy has been dead for half a year, and I feel his heart beating in my chest. Lu Guang buried his face in his hands and tried not to cry, even when Cheng Xiaoshi was not here to see it.

“Then write it down, idiot,” Lu Guang said, only realising belatedly he never said the last word the first time round. “Am I your mother?”

Cheng Xiaoshi flinched. Lu Guang didn’t remember that. He thought Cheng Xiaoshi only gritted his teeth. There was a gleam in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes that could either be tears or nausea, but Lu Guang knew better than to point it out. Any time Lu Guang pointed out where Cheng Xiaoshi was falling apart at the seams, he would dismiss them like they meant nothing, like they weren’t the reason Lu Guang couldn’t sleep at night, terrified of morning.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered.

“I’m tired, asshole!” Lu Guang snapped. He didn’t need a script for this. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like nothing was ever going to be right, and he didn’t know how to make it better. He didn’t know what to do. “Can’t you give me a break?”

“But you don’t even have to dive!” Cheng Xiaoshi protested. “You can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you!”

Was it easy? Was it easy to watch Cheng Xiaoshi throw himself into the past over and over again and shrug off Lu Guang’s concern as unnecessary, until he ended up on the wrong side of the bullet? To try again and again to look for what went wrong in the past, obsessing over each detail and torn butterfly wing until he scrounged for the right answer? To feel old and young at once, helpless and culpable simultaneously? To constantly lie, even though he was supposed to have grown to be honest?

Go upstairs, his memory urged him. Lock the door behind you. Go.

But something fiercer, louder than his memory took hold of him, balling itself into a fiery pit in his throat and scalding its way out of him.

“It’s easy for me?” Lu Guang choked out. “Is it? I’m the one who has to try and figure out how to fix everything! I have to fix everything, and you never think twice!”

Lu Guang felt the tears bully their way to his lashes, no matter how much he tried to fight them back. He stared at Cheng Xiaoshi until his vision blurred with sickness and fury, the boy he was supposed to save and couldn’t help but fail. I don’t know what to do, his soul cried out. I’m the only one who can fix this and I don’t even know what to do.

“Useless!” Lu Guang hurled.

He didn’t know to whom he was shouting it, but he knew as soon as it landed that he aimed it at the wrong place. Cheng Xiaoshi froze, breath stuck midway up his throat, eyes wide as if he had been shot in the stomach, and Lu Guang knew that look too well. He went as still as stone, scarcely breathing as Lu Guang’s voice settled like the remains of an earthquake, leaving behind silent wreckage.

Lu Guang caught up with his breath, dizzy with the catharsis, until its tingling numbness gave way to sudden realization. This was not how any of this was supposed to go.

Cheng Xiaoshi blinked rapidly, looking away–the tightening of his jaw could not mask the way his lips shook.

“Forget it, then,” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered. “Let’s just–yeah. Break. Sounds good.”

He stood up from the seat and left the room quickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. He hurried out the front door of the shop, the twinkling of the door bell the only thing keeping Lu Guang company as he was left behind in the sunroom.

#link click #LC writes #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #in my gdocs this is titled 'LG soiled the friendship garden'

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 1 day ago

Text

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 6

Summary: Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to. She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot. Will old feelings arise? Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings: language, smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

A couple of months later Y/N finished the new book. Bucky wanted to give her as much material to work with as possible, at least, that’s the excuse he used as he fucked her almost daily. “I’m just making up for lost time,” he’d say with a smirk. She had never felt so loved, both physically and emotionally, in her entire life, and felt like writing from her point of view, with a few dramatizations littered into the story to make it more than just porn with slight plot, was a fun challenge. Her agent sent it off to the editor, who loved it, and after a couple of rounds of editing changes it was ready to be sent off to the publisher. She had let Bucky read the versions as well, though more often than not he didn’t get past the sex scenes without coming to her to help with his hard on.

Her agent and team did some awesome marketing for the book, and on drop day she watched the numbers climb online of book sales. They all celebrated, Bucky inviting Sam and Steve back into town at Winnie’s house, with he and Autumn getting her a cake for the launch and partying well into the night with everybody she loved. The book quickly made it to the New York Times Best Seller list, making it her fourth time. She felt like she was walking on air, back in her element, until she got a letter a couple of weeks later.

“What’s that?” Bucky asked.

Y/N was frowning at the letter, then rolled her eyes and handed it to him to read. “A cease and desist letter,” she huffed. “And an intention to sue for defamation.”

“What?” Bucky frowned, taking the letter and reading it. He saw the name on the letter and rolled his eyes as well. “Seriously? The ex husband?”

Y/N sighed and shrugged. “I’m gonna call my lawyer,” she said. Bucky read the letter again as Y/N called her lawyer and had a long discussion. By the time she got off the phone she was exhausted, and Bucky had already finished making dinner. “Hey, Sugar, I’m sorry that took so long,” she said, trudging into the kitchen and helping grab the dishes and setting them on the table, helping Autumn get her homework off the table.

“What did the lawyer say?” he asked, bringing the food over.

“She says he has no case,” Y/N said, going and getting water for them all. “But of course now I have to go through the whole process to get it dismissed.”

“Who has no case?” Autumn piped up.

“No one, pumpkin, don’t you worry about it,” Y/N quickly said, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. “Just a few grown ups with grown up problems.”

“I don’t wanna be a grown up,” Autumn said with a frown.

“That’s the way to be,” Bucky smirked. “Never grow up. Fuck being an adult.”

“Yeah! Fuck it!” Autumn cheered.

“Buck!” Y/N slapped his arm as he laughed at Autumn. She turned to Autumn. “If you don’t want to be a grown up then you don’t get to use grown up words, little miss!”

“Aw,” Autumn whined. “That’s not fair.”

They had dinner together, talking about their days and other things, but Bucky kept glancing at Y/N with a slightly worried look. She knew he was stressing for her, and so after dinner and bedtime rituals she walked up behind him and hugged him around his waist as he finished getting ready for bed in the bathroom.

“Mmh, hey honey,” he said, squeezing her arms on his stomach.

“Hey Sugar,” she greeted him quietly. “You okay?”

Bucky turned in her arms to face her, leaning against the sink and hugging her back. “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I’ll be fine,” Y/N shook her head. “He’s just being an ass. But hey, you got your wish, right?”

“What wish?” Bucky frowned.

“He obviously read it,” Y/N smirked. “And he got butt hurt that I’m happy. With you.”

Bucky scoffed, fighting back a wide smile. “Yeah, but I didn’t think he’d try to fucking sue you, the bastard.”

“This is nothing new, Sugar,” Y/N said, kissing the tip of his nose. “The names and cities and similarities are so vague or changed that he’s basically outed himself to the world. Which of course he didn’t think of, so he just embarrassed himself even more.”

Bucky sputtered as he laughed, covering his mouth so as not to wake up Autumn. “Jesus Christ, what a dipshit,” he said. “Well, his loss is my gain.”

Y/N smiled widely at him. “You’re sweet.”

Bucky smirked. “I am your Sugar.” He leaned down and kissed her passionately, nipping at her bottom lip.

“Mmh, more like spice,” Y/N hummed.

“We could recreate some spice,” he said suggestively.

***

Thankfully Y/N didn’t have to do much when it came to the lawsuit. Y/N showed up with her lawyer back in New York, and when it was presented to the judge he laughed in Raphael’s face, dismissing it quickly. Y/N didn’t even acknowledge Raf as she walked out, heading to her first stop on her book tour. She was sad to leave Woodstock and everything behind for a while, but it was part of the process for marketing the book and getting it out there.

She walked into the bookshop with her agent, being greeted by the owner and the event coordinator, before being shuffled off to the side for a short reading and then a book signing. There was already a good turnout, and she smiled at all the faces as she sat in front of everyone and read a short portion of the book. When she started the signing she put on her polite smile and tried her best to engage with the fans who had come out. As much as she appreciated them, she still didn’t consider herself very outgoing, and knew that she had to power through for just another hour or two before she could go back to the hotel and relax.

Y/N turned in her chair, saying goodbye to a fan before looking up and gasping. “Bucky? Autumn? What are you doing here?” she smiled widely.

Autumn squealed and rounded the table, giving her a big hug. “We’re here to see you!” she exclaimed. “Are you surprised?”

“Oh definitely,” Y/N hugged her back tightly. She turned to Bucky, who was smirking at her. “You’re sneaky,” she narrowed her eyes at him, returning his teasing smirk.

“I can be,” he said, then leaned over the table, Y/N meeting him halfway and kissing him. She was mildly aware of a bunch of cameras going off as they kissed, but didn’t think much of it at the moment. “Mmh, missed you,” Bucky whispered.

“Missed you,” she whispered back.

“Sign it!” Autumn said, rounding the table again and standing next to Bucky, opening the copy of her book she gave Bucky a week prior.

“Yes ma’am,” Y/N chuckled, quickly signing it with a short message to Bucky, then closing it. “Are you guys leaving, or…?”

“We’re going to meet you at the hotel,” Bucky said quietly. “Spend the night in the city then head back home tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she smiled happily. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you,” he smiled.

“Love you!” Autumn nearly yelled, giving her the “I love you” sign in sign language as Bucky pulled her away holding the book.

“Love you!” Y/N said and did it back to her. She watched them leave before greeting the next person.

“I’m sorry, um, is that…is the male romantic character based off of him?” the girl asked, eyeing Bucky and Autumn as they left.

Y/N smirked. “Yeah,” she said. “But don’t tell anybody.”

The girl smiled and nodded.

#marvel #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #chapter 6 #spicy books

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princesskenny1998 · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! :)

“I will get him to smile again.”

I was wondering if you would write a scenario using this dialogue? I was thinking someone would mention to a fem!reader that death eater!Draco isn’t looking too good, that he’s been withdrawn for a while. Then the reader makes it her personal mission to bring back his smile?

They don’t need to be in an established relationship or anything, but maybe they were headed that direction before the chaos ensued?

I couldn’t imagine any other writer being a better fit for this. If you could, I’d appreciate it!

Take care x

Harry Potter | Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!f!reader ~ "I will get him to smile again"

Hello, darling! Thank you very much ❤️ I hope you like it!

It was the first night back at Hogwarts after summer break, and the Great Hall was alive with the chatter of students catching up, the hum of excitement palpable as the new school year began. You were sitting with your Hufflepuff friends, trying to join in the conversation, but your attention kept drifting toward the Slytherin table.

Draco Malfoy was sitting there, as usual, at the far end of the table, but something about him was different. He wasn’t his usual confident self—he wasn’t even looking around or engaging with his usual circle of friends. His face was set in a tight, unreadable expression, and he hadn’t touched his food at all. He sat there, motionless, while the rest of his housemates chatted and ate around him. You hadn’t seen him like this before, and it tugged at your heart.

You knew he hadn’t been himself for a while now. Ever since his father had been arrested during the last school year for his involvement with the Death Eaters, Draco had withdrawn from everyone. You’d hoped he might come around, but after sending him a letter during the summer break and receiving no response, you feared the worst. The connection the two of you had built last year seemed to have been severed completely, leaving you with a hollow sense of unease.

"Y/N, are you even listening?" Megan’s voice cut through your thoughts.

You blinked and turned back to your friend, who was watching you with an amused expression. "What? Oh—sorry, I was just..." You trailed off, casting another glance toward Draco, who remained as stoic as ever. "I’m worried about Draco."

Megan’s brows furrowed. "Draco Malfoy? You’ve been obsessed with him since last year, haven’t you?"

You bit your lip, hesitant. "It’s not like that… I mean, yes, I care about him, but something’s off. He hasn’t been responding to my letters, and I just… I don’t know. He looks so distant now."

Megan frowned, glancing at the Slytherin table. "I’ve noticed, too. He hasn’t looked like himself since his dad got arrested. Seems it didn't get better over summer. It’s like he’s completely shut down."

You nodded. "That’s exactly what it feels like. I think I need to do something about it."

Megan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I need to make him smile again," you said firmly. "It’s like he’s given up on everything, and I can’t just let him be like that."

"You’re going to make Malfoy smile again?" Megan asked with a mix of skepticism and amusement. "Good luck with that, Y/N."

"I will," you said, your voice filled with determination. "I will get him to smile again."

Over the next few weeks, you made it your mission to get Draco to acknowledge you again. You started by sitting closer to him in the library, though you never forced yourself on him. You simply made it a point to be in his line of sight, to show him that you were still there, still caring. You’d occasionally glance at him from across the room, hoping to catch his gaze, but every time you did, he turned his attention elsewhere.

You noticed, too, that his usual friends—Pansy, Blaise, and even Theodore—seemed to be giving him space. It was as if they had all noticed the shift in him and didn’t know how to handle it. They weren’t mocking him the way they used to; instead, they kept their distance, clearly unsure of what to do.

It was frustrating. You tried to strike up casual conversations with him in the halls, but every time you approached, he would put up a wall, giving you one-word answers or avoiding eye contact altogether. At first, you thought maybe it was just his way of processing what was going on, but as the weeks dragged on and his behavior didn’t change, doubt started to creep in. Was he shutting you out for good? Had you imagined the connection between you two last year?

You refused to give up.

One evening, you caught him alone in the courtyard, sitting on one of the stone benches, staring blankly at the stars. It was a moment of rare vulnerability for him, and you knew it was now or never. Your heart raced as you walked toward him, your palms sweating slightly with the anticipation of what you were about to do.

"Draco," you called softly, and his head snapped up, his eyes narrowing when he saw you. You stood there, unsure of how to proceed, but you refused to back down now. "Can I sit with you?"

He didn’t answer at first, just looked at you for a long moment, his jaw tightening. But then, as if he couldn’t think of a way to protest, he nodded stiffly, shifting over slightly on the bench.

You sat beside him, keeping a respectable distance at first. The silence between you two was thick with unspoken words, and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

"How are you doing?" you asked gently, your voice soft. "You’ve been quiet lately."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You wouldn’t understand."

The words stung, but you refused to show it. Instead, you turned to face him fully, your heart pounding in your chest. "Try me," you said, your voice firm but caring. "I’m still here, Draco. I’m not going anywhere."

For a moment, it looked like he was about to say something else, but then he just shook his head and looked away, staring at the castle in the distance.

"I don’t need your pity," he muttered, voice tinged with bitterness.

"I’m not giving you pity," you said, trying to keep your tone steady. "I’m giving you a chance. A chance to not push me away."

There was a long pause, and just when you thought he might ignore you again, Draco finally spoke, his voice quieter this time. "You don’t get it. My father’s gone, and everything’s changed. I don’t know who I even am anymore."

You bit your lip, heart aching at the rawness in his words. You didn’t have the answers, but you knew one thing for certain: you couldn’t let him go through this alone.

"I figure it’s hard," you said softly. "But you don’t have to do it alone. You’re not alone, Draco. I’m here for you, you just need to let me."

Draco’s gaze flickered to you, and for the first time in weeks, there was something in his eyes—a glimmer of the boy you had known, the one who had made you laugh, the one who had shared moments of vulnerability with you. It was so faint, but it was there.

A small sigh escaped his lips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his lips curled into the faintest smile—a smile that held a mixture of sadness and relief, but also something deeper. Something more.

You felt your heart swell, warmth spreading through your chest as you gazed at him. That smile, so small but so significant, was the one thing you’d been waiting for, and it meant more than words could express.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled back at him, your heart light with relief. "You don’t have to thank me. Just... let me in, Draco."

And for the first time in a long while, Draco Malfoy did.

#x reader #harry potter #slytherin #hufflepuff #draco lucius malfoy #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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miupow · 25 days ago

Note

I never see you interact with peoples works and sometimes when you post you sound mean. reading other works is not the end all be all but you dont even respond to comments and reblogs.

oh :(

#i’m so sorry i never knew i was coming across that way #again i really do try to respond to feedback #but when i do i respond thru my side blog. should i respond on this blog instead?#like i’m asking genuinely i don’t want to come across like this #i don’t mean to sound mean i really don’t i’m just really blunt sometimes #please let me know if i’m hurting people’s feelings with what i say

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starryjake · 1 month ago

Text

nightmares | s.j

in which you have a nightmare and seek comfort from your roommate.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: nipple play, pussy eating, sleepy sex, unprotected sex (lmk if i missed anything).

it was childish, you knew: to be so afraid of a dumb nightmare that you had to go to your roommate for comfort.

but there you were, absolutely petrified. you laid flat on your back in your bed, not moving a muscle because you were so afraid. it didn’t help that it was storming outside either, the occasional cracks of thunder and lightning making you shiver.

when you checked the time on your phone, it read 2:19 a.m.

you briefly wondered if your roommate, jake, would be awake. it was dumb to even consider it because you knew he cherished his sleep, so he would definitely be passed out with it being that late.

even though you knew that, you still needed to be around another person. you were way too afraid to be by yourself right then.

you took a deep breath and pulled yourself out of bed. you leapt through your dark room and opened the door into the hallway. jake’s room was just across from yours.

his door was closed. you pressed your ear against it but couldn’t hear a thing. you were slightly frustrated that he was asleep, but it wasn’t like it was his job to stay awake for you just in case you had a nightmare.

slowly, you twisted open the door. his room was completely dark, but a flash of lightning illuminated his sleeping form for just a second. as you suspected, he was completely knocked out, buried under the covers in his bed.

you took a hesitant step inside, not entirely sure what you were doing by going into his room. you just needed company and the reassurance that your nightmare wasn’t real.

the door came to a close behind you, the sound of it shutting a little louder than you would’ve liked.

jake stirred, sitting up ever so slightly.

“y/n?” he mumbled, eyes squinted to look at you in the darkness.

“sorry i woke you,” you apologized, awkwardly standing by the end of his bed.

“what are you doing?” he asked. “what’s wrong?”

“i just…i had a nightmare,” you told him.

saying it out loud, you were embarrassed. you’d woken your roommate up like a child. you were selfish too for doing that. he worked hard and he was tired, thus he needed a full night of sleep.

“nightmare?” jake questioned.

“yeah,” you said. “i know, it’s dumb. i was just scared.”

“c’mere.”

your body filled with warmth and relief at the soft word from jake. he wasn’t mad, he was actually inviting you into his bed to provide you with the comfort you so desperately needed.

you crawled into his bed and slid under the covers with him. his bed was so warm and you immediately felt about a million times safer just being near him.

you laid on your side and he slid his arm around your waist, pressing his front side to your back.

you’d been roommates with jake for about a year, but you’d never once cuddled. you were friends—good friends, but you barely ever even touched. you never really hugged each other, never held hands, and especially never spooned in his bed before.

“d’you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

“no,” you said, not wanting to have to relive the awful nightmare. “i just couldn’t be alone.”

jake inhaled and all he could smell was the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. you were so warm and delicate in his embrace, he was definitely freaking out but trying his best not to show it.

“i’m here now,” he said. “nothing is gonna get you if i’m here.”

his words, for whatever reason, made your heart pound, made butterflies flutter in your tummy. to hear those sentences come from your incredibly attractive roommate made you…excited.

sunghoon was the reason you two knew each other. you were friends with sunghoon, jake was friends with sunghoon, and you all started hanging out in groups. you and jake coincidentally needed roommates at the same time, and then there you were.

you’d always thought he was hot and not only his physical appearance, but his personality too. he was sweet and caring and gentle, and you just really, really enjoyed him. his cute accent was a plus too.

“thank you,” you exhaled. “i knew you were sleeping and i really didn’t wanna wake you. i just—”

“hey, it’s okay,” he assured.

you suddenly felt the soft tingling sensation of his fingers grazing up and down your t-shirt clad back. you sighed in pleasure, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“feels so good,” you told him, your voice in a mumbled daze.

“yeah?” he replied. “want me to keep going?”

“mmm, yes please,” you hummed tiredly.

jake cooed at your sleepy state and continued running the tips of his fingertips up and down the length of your back.

he continued to do that until you were slowly lulled into a soft doze.

after a few minutes, jake spoke.

“can i lift your shirt?” he asked.

your eyes flew open, startled by his sudden voice in what was such a quiet room.

“yeah,” you told him.

he slowly pushed your t-shirt up your body, revealing your smooth back. he left your shirt bunched up around your chest and reattached his fingers to your back, using his nails to glide up and down.

you leaned back into his touch, sighing in pleasure. jake’s breathing got ever so slightly heavier by the sight of your pleasured reactions and your pliant body against his.

he eventually switched to using the palm of his hand to rub your back soothingly. he rubbed along your back before his hand started inching to your side, and he rubbed there too.

he gently pulled you down so you were laying on your back. with him still laying on his side, he had a height advantage over you. he looked down at your tired face, licking his lips.

neither of you even said anything and mutually started leaning in at the same time. the moment was already intimate from him rubbing your back, it just felt right and normal to kiss.

his warm lips were heavy against yours, kissing you slowly and deeply. his hand came up to cradle your face, caressing your warm blushing cheek with his thumb.

“you’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your lips.

if you were any more awake, you probably would’ve been squealing and jumping up and down.

he trailed his hand down from your face and to the side of your waist. your shirt was still raised slightly, revealing a sliver of your stomach.

jake pushed your shirt up and stopped just below your breasts.

“can i keep going?” he asked, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

you were so excited about where things were going, you would’ve been an idiot to say no.

“yeah,” you answered, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him back down to your lips.

he smiled against your lips and inched his tongue inside your mouth. you responded immediately, rubbing the slippery tip of your tongue against his. the sound was purely lewd, all wet and kissing noises.

he pushed your shirt up until it was over your chest, revealing your tits to him for the first time. the cool air in the room immediately hardened your nipples.

jake cupped your breast in his hand and swiped his thumb over your nipple, making you gasp and arch into his touch. he pulled away from your lips for a second to wet the tip of his pointer finger. he then brought his finger down to your nipple and rubbed it in little circles.

you moaned against his lips, jutting your hips up because you were suddenly a lot more needy that you’d realized. with the way he was playing with your nipple, it was starting to get you worked up.

he departed from your lips, trailing kisses down your chin, your neck, your collarbones, and finally to your chest.

he circled his tongue around the bud before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gently. you moaned out, entangling your fingers in his thick hair.

he played with the other neglected nipple, massaging it between his thumb and index finger. you spread your legs and tugged on his hair softly, showing to him how good it felt.

“you like that, baby?” he asked, licking your nipple in circles again. “is it makin’ you feel better?”

“fuck,” you moaned. “yeah, i love it.”

“cute,” he chuckled, switching to suck on the other nipple.

you weren’t sure how long that went on for. you just knew it was long enough for your panties to be completely soaked by the time he pulled away.

he kissed down your bare stomach and stopped where the waistband of your sweatpants were.

“can i keep making you feel good, baby?” he asked, his hand coming to wrap around your thigh.

you needed him to make you feel good. your pussy was so sensitive from being so aroused and you just needed something.

“mmm, please,” you answered. “it’s sticky.”

“it’s sticky?” he repeated, peeling your sweatpants down your legs. “let me see.”

he spread your legs and found that your flimsy pair of panties were completely soaked through from your arousal. he gulped, bringing his finger up and dragging it down your clothed slit.

you whimpered, jutting your hips up to try and get more contact out of just his one finger. he pushed your hips down.

“poor thing,” he cooed. “you’re soaked. did you like getting your nipples sucked that much?”

“yeah,” you answered pathetically, embarrassed.

“sweet girl,” he said, pouting at you. “gonna take care of you, angel.”

your pussy clenched around nothing.

he was quick to hook his fingers into your panties and slide them down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with your sweatpants. you were bare in front of him then, your cunt dripping and eager.

he spread your legs as wide as they could go. you felt so vulnerable underneath him. you’d never even hugged the guy, yet now you were there with your glistening cunt twitching in front of his face.

he held your thighs as he leaned in and look a long lick from the bottom of your sopping pussy all the way up to your puffy clit. he moaned as the taste of you infiltrated his senses, taking over his head. he knew just from that one lick alone that he was addicted.

“oh my god…” you trailed off, your hand finding his hair again to hold on to.

he started flicking his tongue up and down your folds, pushing his face into your cunt as deep as he could. he wrapped his lips around your clit, making out with it and drooling all over it.

for a moment, he pulled back to just look at your pussy. spread your lips with his thumbs, watching your drooling hole convulse.

“fuck, baby,” he nearly growled.

he couldn’t stay away for long and his face was buried back into your pussy a second later. he swiped his tongue back and forth against your clit, his eyes fluttering closed at the taste and the feeling of it.

“mmm,” he hummed into your pussy. “so sweet, baby. tastes so good. could’ve been eating you out since the day we moved in together if i knew you were this sweet.”

you could barely process any of his words, so lost in the pleasure he was giving you. his tongue worked your pussy like magic, slurping up your arousal and nibbling on your clit and thrusting in and out of your leaking hole.

“jake,” you cried out, tugging on his hair. “‘m close, fuck. i’m so close.”

jake dug his fingers into your thighs, frowning slightly in concentration. his tongue continued to move rapidly on your hot, gushing cunt.

the knot in your stomach suddenly snapped and your entire body fell weak. your eyes rolled back into your head and you fucked your hips against his tongue to ride out your orgasm. he moaned against you as the taste of your cum dripped down his throat.

he left your pussy with a kiss before sitting up on his knees. staring down at you, so sleepy and fucked out, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his cock deep inside of you and just pound until you both went dumb.

jake rubbed your thigh, watching your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“can i fuck you, baby?” he asked, slightly nervous about what you’d say.

you were tired, clearly. he wasn’t sure if you’d want to.

“yeah, jakey,” you said sweetly.

his heart throbbed at the nickname, and the fact that you were going to let him fuck you. the idea of what your tight cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock made him lightheaded.

he was quick to rid himself of his clothes. he was hard from eating you out and only needed to jerk himself off for a second before he was ready to put it in.

he lined the pretty pink tip of his cock up with your slippery hole and eased his way inside, not wanting to hurt you. he watched your reactions closely.

you looked up at him, your jaw falling slack at the feeling of his cock slowly filling your pussy up. your legs shook as he pushed himself to the brim, the tip of his cock hitting the spongey spot deep inside of you.

“oh,” you whimpered. “feels so good. i’m so full.”

“yeah, baby?” he cooed. “you nice and full of my cock?”

you nodded rapidly, sitting yourself up slightly so you could see his cock slowly slide out of you before pushing back in. your walls fluttered around him.

your pussy was so warm, wet, tight, and absolutely intoxicating just like how he knew it would be.

“such a good pussy,” he moaned, holding onto your hips as he thrusted. “got my dick all wet in your sweet cum, baby.”

there was a creamy ring of your cum around the base of his dick, which made a lewd squelching sound every time he thrusted.

you just whimpered in response, turning your head to the side. he was fucking you so deeply, dragging every inch of his long length through your tight walls.

you held onto his biceps, digging your nails into his skin. he bit his lip, looking down at your pretty supple body and the way you just laid there and took it, letting him fuck you nice and good.

“‘m close, baby,” he told you, grabbing your chin and turning your head so you were looking up at him again. “where do you want me to cum?”

you were so sleepy and fucked out that you could still barely comprehend his words. you also were starting to feel your second orgasm brewing in your stomach which made it even harder to focus.

you just babbled some incoherent nonsense.

“words, honey,” he said, squeezing your thighs. “tell me where you want my cum.”

“inside,” you cried out, tightening your legs around his waist. “wanna be filled.”

“fuck,” jake hissed. “i’ll fill you up real good. i’ll make you nice and warm, yeah baby?”

“please!” you yelled. “please, i need it.”

your words sent him straight over the edge. he choked on a moan as ropes of his warm cum spilled inside of you, drenching your walls.

seeing him hit his orgasm sent you over the edge as well, and suddenly you were clenching around him, sucking him completely dry.

waves of sweat and pleasure and euphoria washed over the both of you. you swear he was sending you to another dimension where the only thing you knew was pleasure and jake’s addictive cock.

he slowly rocked his hips in and out of you, milking both of your orgasms until you were both done and spent.

by then, you were both exhausted. he slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you. the two of you laid on your backs, staring at the ceiling in shock at what you’d just done.

you went into his room with the expectation of a little bit of comfort after your awful nightmare, not to have been given two orgasms.

for a few minutes, neither of you said anything.

then, jake spoke up.

“so, did i get you to forget about your nightmare?” he asked, turning his head to the side to look at you.

at that point, you couldn’t even remember what the nightmare was about.

“i think you did,” you answered.

he pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. within a few minutes, both of you were asleep in each others arms.

a/n long jake smut for 1k and bc im horny for him.

thank you for reading <3

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enha smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #kpop smut #enha jake #jake enhypen smut #sim jake x reader #enhypen jake smut #jake enhypen #jake sim smut #jake x reader #jake smut #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jake smut #sim jake

3K notes · View notes

joelsgoldrush · 5 months ago

Text

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from.

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his.

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific.

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.”

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.”

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.”

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug.

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do.

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up.

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert.

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them.

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance.

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher.

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force. “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need.

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.

Which was a mess in itself.

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n”

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.

“Y/n”

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss”

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.

“Please what, sweets”

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.

“Sir, pleasee”

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”

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luveline · 1 month ago

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Just re-watched the prison Reid arc and whew! Can I request post prison Reid getting to meet his new baby for the first time with a civilian reader? Like he was arrested while reader was still pregnant and she gave birth right before he got out? Maybe have a Diana cameo cause I just love her🤭

ty for requesting! fem, 1.6k

“Do you want me to take him?”

You give Diane a grateful smile. “Is that okay?”

Diane is reedy like Spencer, tall and skinny, but strong, too. She treads the carpet in her moccasins and holds out her arms for the baby, shushing him softly as you pass him over. You’ve had to look after her these last few weeks in a way you weren’t prepared for, but she’s looked after you in turn.

She’s almost completely lucid today. The good news has its hooks in her.

You look out of the window again. The baby coughs in Diane’s arms, a clearing sound after feeding. If she’s gentle with him he’ll fall asleep before Spencer gets home. You aren’t sure what to do, let him sleep or wake him. What would Spencer want?

I want to come home, he’d said, choked up over the phone, so badly. I’m so sorry.

“Are you sure you won’t call him Walter?” Diane asks. “Spencer likes that one.”

“I’m sure, Diane. He liked Jasper, so…” You bite the tip of your tongue until it aches, refusing to cry again. “So I went with Jasper. I hope he doesn’t mind.”

That morning when Emily told you he was coming home, you cried like you’ve never, ever cried. So hard that Jasper woke up in his cot across the room and cried with you.

You’d cried a lot after Spencer was arrested, and worse when he was imprisoned. You cried like a baby the day you went into labour because you knew you’d have to do it alone, when Spencer promised he’d be there with you, that you wouldn’t have to do any of the scary parts alone.

It didn’t take long to stop. You’d grabbed Jasper with your cheeks soaked in tears and rubbed his back, that small stretch of warmth under your hand like a lifeline. In a way, Jasper being Spencer’s has made this easier. You’ve had a part of him. It just wasn’t enough to get over missing him. Every bit of joy —you have a baby now, your beautiful boy— has been swiftly followed with an aching sort of grief. Spencer missed his first cry, first bath, the very first time he opened his eyes. You can’t go back.

“They said three.”

Diane doesn’t seem concerned. She’s missed Spencer as much as you have, and you know her worry for him has made her more poorly than she’d otherwise be most days, but the baby helps. “I’m gonna find his bear,” she says.

You bend down, trying to see the corner of the street through the window. Then you remember the last time you left Diane alone in the kitchen and flinch. “Hey, Diane?” you call.

She’s checking the drawers for the bear. You’re not sure why she thinks the bear would be there, but perhaps that’s where she put it. “Can I make you a cup of tea or something?” you ask her.

“You’re spying on me.”

“Spying implies you don’t know what I’m doing.”

She pats the baby’s back. “I can see why you and Spencer get along.”

It’s a little more than getting along.

Diane finds Jasper’s bear atop the bread bin, sitting at the kitchen table with him, the bear sat across from him, though Jasper’s already sleeping again.

You put the stovetop kettle on to boil and realise with a start that you can make Spencer a cup of tea at the same time. Your smile is unfailing, then. He really is coming home. The kettle begins whining while you recover his favourite mug from the cabinet, untouched the entire time he was gone.

“How many sugars today, Diane?” you ask.

“Was that the door?”

“What?” You’re putting the mug down before you can compute.

“Angel?”

You feel a rush of emotion all over at the sound of his voice. You try to call back to him, but you don’t manage anything more than a catching gasp as you push out of the kitchen and find him at the door. Right there at the end of the hall.

Pale, tall. Arms already opening, half a step as you run at him. He doesn’t complain when your chest knocks against his. He doesn’t say anything at all.

“Hi,” you breathe, pressing your nose to his shoulder. Your eyes stay open —it’s like panic without the fear. He’s really here in your arms.

He squeezes you tightly. So tight you can’t breathe for a second. Then he gentles, his hands rubbing up and down your back out of sync, face falling into yours.

In the kitchen, Jasper makes a croaky crying sound, a stirring Diane calms immediately.

You attempt to pull away. Spencer will want to see Jasper, of course. He hadn’t met his own son. It was all he could talk about for weeks before he went away, and yet—

Spencer just rubs your back. After another half a minute like that, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat.

“Yeah? No one would tell me anything specific, I was worried you might not be alright.”

“Everything went fine.” He holds you to his chest. He smells like cheap soap. “I didn’t– it was really okay. He was easy, like he knew I couldn’t handle any complications.”

“And he–?”

You recognise the undercurrent in his voice. It’s the same thing you felt when they put Jasper on your chest for the first time. “He’s perfect.”

“All ten fingers?”

You pull away. Immediately, Spencer’s taking your face into two hands, his eyes pouring into yours with an intensity that worries you. “He has all his fingers and toes,” you say quietly, “how about you? How’s your leg?”

He doesn’t seem to be able to answer. Jasper makes another noise and Diane’s chair creaks. You turn with Spencer’s hand on your side, watching as Diane brings Jasper to the door.

“Spencer,” Diane says, like she just saw him yesterday, “you’re late.”

“Sorry, mom.”

He always sounds younger when he talks to her.

“Will you take the baby? I was just making some tea,” she says.

Spencer nods but doesn’t move.

“I’ll take him.” You kiss Spencer on the cheek. Remember you haven’t for weeks and kiss him again. “It’s okay.”

You hold your arms out and take Jasper against your chest. Spencer takes a hesitant step forward, stops, hesitating, but when you turn to him with a comforting smile the band holding him back snaps. He crosses the room, breath pulled like he’d stopped as he cranes his head to see his baby.

“Three weeks old today,” you say softly, tipping Jasper back so Spencer can see his face. “He missed his daddy, you know.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Of course I can. I’m his mom, Spencer… And who wouldn’t miss you?”

Spencer shakes his head gently, reaching out to caress Jasper’s full cheek.

“Jasper,” Spencer says.

“He’s been a great baby so far. Doesn’t give me much trouble. He cries all night, of course… but all babies do. He goes down after a while. I’ve–” You swallow the heat of missing Spencer like a barb dragging against the inside of your throat. “Told him you’re coming home. I told him every day, I promise.”

“M’sorry,” he says, pained.

“I know, Spence.” You nudge him. “Time to hold him, honey.”

He’s more eager than you thought. It’s almost like he’s worried you won’t let him have the baby, but it’s like you told him on the phone: Spencer made a stupid mistake, and you still love him. He never should’ve been going back and forth like that, but you get why he did. Wouldn’t you want Jasper, one day, to care about you in the same way Spencer loves his mother? You forgave him the moment he apologised.

“It’s alright,” you say, slotting Jasper from your arms to his, guiding his hand behind Jasper’s delicate neck. “Just hold him. He missed you.”

Spencer sniffles. “I missed him too,” he says.

“I know.”

Diane realises eventually that Spencer being home is a big deal. It’s not her fault, not understanding, but the new baby, her relocation again, her nurse barely gone, and Spencer’s sudden homecoming, it’s probably too much to deal with. She finds you, Spencer, and Jasper on the couch in the living room and frowns at him heartily. “You won’t hug your own mother?” she asks.

“You’ll have to hug me around the baby,” he says, sorry.

Diane agrees to this without fuss. She caresses his cheek as he’d done for Jasper as she pulls away.

“Thank you for helping out, mom,” he says.

“It was all Y/N, Spencer. You know mothers. We’re strong.”

Spencer looks at Jasper, still sleeping, and then to you, a shade of adoring in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “I know,” he says.

You curl into his side and take a breath. For the first time in weeks, you let your body relax, finding it sorer and angrier than you’d left it the last time you had the chance to check in.

Spencer brings the side of your face to his lips to kiss your weary cheek.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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sanemistar · 2 months ago

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DANGEROUS MAN

contents ★ clan leader!gojo x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fluff, suggestive (17+), making out, slight mention of biting/marking, reader gets called princess, 1.6k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

your parents had warned you several times about satoru gojo, the leader of the gojo clan. one of the strongest clans to exist, along with your own clan. they had forbidden you from speaking him, let alone being in the same room as him. due to the long history and the rivalry between your clan and the gojos, your clans had considered each other enemies for as long as one could remember. you had been familiar with their warnings like the back of your hand, and you had abided by them for so long. though you personally had no ill intentions towards him, nor even understood the hatred against the gojos.

that was, until you had met him in person at one of those boring higher up gatherings that you were forced to attend when you two coincidently went outside to get a breath of fresh air, away from all the tension and awkwardness inside.

the first thought that had come across your mind when you first saw satoru was that he was charming, like one of those charming princes you read about in fairy tales. you’d seen him in pictures before, but never this close. truth be told, pictures could’ve never fully captured how ethereal he looked in real life. you’d never seen anyone like him before, and you probably never would. he was simply out of this world, like a work of art—a one in a million man. enchanted by his beauty, you couldn’t help but stare at him in admiration. your eyes never dared to look away from him, as if they were glued onto him.

“well well. if it isn’t you, the princess from that clan.” satoru’s voice pierced through your ears, waking you up from your dazed state. “you’ve been staring at me for so long, like i’m a statue in a museum or something.” you were unaware of how long you’d been staring at satoru until you saw the confusion on his face as he pointed out. you felt your face redden in embarrassment and you immediately looked down in an attempt to hide your flushed face.

“s-sorry about that, gojo-san. i didn’t mean to do that, i just…” you trailed off mid sentence, unsure of what to say in order to justify your actions earlier. your head was in and your thoughts were all over the place.

you heard a pair of footsteps coming closer to you and before you was none other than satoru. the one man you shouldn’t be standing so close to. your mind was telling you to run away and leave, but your body refused to move an inch. his thumb quickly glazed over your chin, swiftly lifting it up and your eyes got caught in his alluring gaze like a mouse in a cheese trap that was unable to escape before he let go of your chin. you could swear that the spot where he touched you earlier was tingling, as if his touch was electric.

“oh c’mon, no need for these formalities. they mean nothing to me. my name is satoru, so just call me satoru.” he spoke and you were slightly taken aback, you two had just met and he already wanted you to act on a first name basis.

“but..” he cut you mid sentence.

“no buts, it’s pretty easy. just repeat after me, satoru.” he said his name again slowly, waiting for you to say it back. he was pretty insistent on it so it looked like you had no choice.

“satoru.” his name finally rolled off your tongue, and a proud smirk made its way onto his face upon hearing you say his name. the way it came off your lips got him a little excited.

just then an idea popped up in satoru’s head, a reckless one at that.

“why don’t we go somewhere else where it’s just us two? away from all this.” he grabbed your hand gently yet firmly, like he had no intention of leaving you alone.

you knew best that it was never good ignoring what your parents had told you and involving yourself with him. but at that moment, you agreed to go with him. completely forgetting about everything, the rivalry, the hatred, everything. you weren’t sure if that was a rebellion phase or what, all you knew was that it felt right leaving with him.

satoru seemed surprised for a moment by how quickly you agreed to follow him, but grinned and took your hand before dragging the two of you away as you disappeared from the main entrance and into a quieter place where it was just you and him.

you had no idea how you ended up being pinned against the wall with satoru’s tall, lean figure hovering over you. completely blocking your view and blocking you from sight.

“why did you follow me so easily, hm? what if i had a malicious intention of some sort. didn’t your parents warn you about how dangerous the gojos were? especially their leader.” your chest moved up and down as your heart began racing rapidly.

“if you had any malicious intentions like you said, you would’ve taken me somewhere outside the territory. but since we didn’t really go that far away, it’d be useless for you to be doing anything dangerous here.” you began explaining. and satoru seemed so impressed by your smart response.

“you’re indeed very amusing.” he chuckled softly. he rested his hands on the wall, forcing you to look at nothing else around but him.

tension between the two of you began rising, and you found yourself subconsciously looking at his lips.

and satoru was so quick to notice how you were eyeing his lips for a while now.

“you could’ve simply asked me for a kiss if you want it so badly instead of just staring at my lips, princess.” he leaned in as he whispered into your ear and you could feel it heat up a bit in embarrassment.

and before you could get the chance to say anything you felt satoru’s lips smacking onto yours. you gasped into the kiss in surprise, your mind screamed at you to break away and push him off of you. but this time not only your body, but also your heart, refused to. you wrapped your arms around his neck, getting in the mood as you pulled him even closer to you. your fingers ran through the back of his soft hair.

meanwhile, satoru’s hands delicately trailed all over your back, slowly exploring every part and every bit of your skin. he was taking his sweet time touching you all while having your lips against his own, tongue exploring every corner of your mouth.

as the two of you further got in the mood, your kisses had become sloppier and hungrier. teeth clashing against each other as tongues swirled around one another in sync. what started off as a soft, gentle kiss had become a series of deep, passionate kisses that held so much lust and desire in them.

you felt so good that you could almost see stars.

“mhmm..” careful not to make any loud noises in order to avoid getting caught by anyone, you hummed against his lips. and you never knew you had the ability to hum like that ever so sweetly.

you couldn’t believe that you were doing such things with the one man you were never supposed to be doing all of that with.

satoru gojo was indeed dangerous, he was too dangerous for your heart.

the two of you had been making out for almost ten minutes straight. if it wasn’t for your desperate need for air to breathe, you wouldn’t have broken away. but due to the lack of oxygen, you had to break away from the kiss and catch your breath. eyes were only half open, your head was still light and dizzy after that makeout session as you were heavily panting, your lips which were now swollen were still slightly parted as a small trail of drool trickled down your chin.

“you look so beautiful right now, i think i’m in love.” satoru glazed his thumb over the corner of your lips, wiping the drool off. he leaned in once more and began nibbling on the crook of your slender neck and you winced a little as you felt him biting a bit too hard which would have probably left a mark that you would have to hide.

“maybe we should leave all this behind and run away together. it’s a great idea, don’t you think?” he suggested as he looked up at you, his blue eyes glowed slightly in the dark.

you suddenly came back to your senses upon hearing the words he said and slightly pushed him off of you.

“satoru we..” you began speaking, trying to form a coherent sentence. “we can’t do that. we’re supposed to be enemies, remember?” it was more of a reminder to yourself than it was to him that you and satoru would never be anything more than enemies.

“but enemies don’t kiss each other like that.” he whispered as he continued kissing your neck and up to your cheeks, then your nose, then back to your lips. he gave you quick, light pecks before pulling away.

“guess i’ll have to talk to those annoying higher ups of ours and end that nonsense rivalry, cause no way i’m gonna let you be with anyone else that’s not me.”

and the next thing you knew, you were being dragged by satoru into the main hall where all the higher ups were as both of you made a dramatic entrance when he announced that he’d be marrying you before kissing you in front of all of them. leaving everyone in the room, you included, in great shock.

satoru gojo was a dangerous, very dangerous man.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo fluff #gojo smut

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awrkive · 7 months ago

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!"

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that!

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away.

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him.

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com.

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless.

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk.

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes.

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you.

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either.

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you.

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost.

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed.

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck! Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

#fic: nb #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x you #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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