#inspired by the fact that my glasses broke today

[builders-league-daily]

day 8

[with-my-calamitous-love]

I WAITED AGES TO SEE YOU THERE

hitoshi shinso x reader

celebrating his first official year as a pro hero, you and your childhood friend-turned boyfriend share an intimate moment.

inspired by you’re on your own, kid

summer went away, and now, and hitoshi had completed his first official year as a pro hero.

rent is enough to bring people to tears. and though you two have been lucky enough to score a cozy, one bedroom apartment. it has beautiful open windows, a warm space just fit enough for a young couple. you’d tell yourself anything to ignore the fact that it was barely furnished.

you two sat on the living room floor, lit by a few faulty lights and some candles. you’re surrounded by tax papers, bills, and old grocery lists. but its still romantic, because its hitoshi.

you’d dress nicer if it weren’t for the new autumn chill. so instead, you’re wrapped up in one of his sweaters while he pours you both glasses of cheap rosé.

once it’s filled, you lift the glass and clink it against his. “1 year.” you smile.

“one year of being a pro-hero.” he says. “still can’t believe its been that long.”

and it’s true. he still doesn’t actually believe he’s been saving lives for one full year, with more to come. he’s learned that his dreams aren’t rare, that every starry-eyed kid wants to be a hero. but now, he’s actually doing it.

“this goes without saying, but,” you start, taking a sip of your drink. “i am so proud of you.”

he feels his heart swell, looking at you with admiration. he’s played it cool, he’s waited patiently, and now he’s here with you. “thank you… you know i couldn’t have done it without you.”

that part resonates with you. from sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, you’ve seen his journey. you set your glass down before speaking again: “i’m not just saying i’m proud of you as your partner, or anything like that. i say that as your best friend, too.”

lilac eyes pause, remembering the fond memories you’re bringing up with your words. “i still remember the day we first met, we were 6. you said you wanted to be a hero.”

he chuckles, fondly staring out the window as if re-living his lofty, childhood dreams. “i did, didn’t i?”

you nod. “and since then… i have seen you get your ass beat and heart broken trying to achieve that dream. you’ve been shoved down and told you’d never be a hero because of your villainous quirk.”

villainous in heavy quotations.

his expression turns more contemplative, reflecting on those times. he would never admit it, but he sometimes wondered if they were right, after all. he gave his blood, sweat and tears for it, to fight back and prove those assholes wrong.

and now that he’s made it, no one really knows what to say- not even him. but your smile and proud, teary eyes tells him all he needs to know.

“it broke my heart everytime they said it.” he admits, his voice coming out in a slow, steady breath.

“but you didn’t let it stop you.” you remind him. “you proved them all wrong, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.”

somehow, you vindicate all his worries. his hands intertwine with yours.

“that’s because of you.” he smiles. “you believed enough for the both of us.”

you chuckle, not wanting to take credit. but honestly, hitoshi gives you all of it. you stood by him. you held his hand. you picked up the pieces of him and kept him going all this years.

“i waited ages to see you there.” you hum, happily. “you’re my best friend, and the love of my life.”

he nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you are the one thing they’ll never take away from me, [y/n].”

his hands accidentally touch a stack of papers, creating a crumpling sound. when you two look over, you see the official papers documenting him as a pro hero. one year ago today, you were there when he received them. and you’re just as proud now as you were then.

you smile fondly at them, remembering that day and everything he did to get here. “everything you lost to get here was a step you took, love.” you say. “i am so, so proud of you.”

he honestly isn’t sure how to place his gratitude into words anymore. he doesn’t have any reason to be afraid, because he knows you’re his safe place. you’re the one thing that will never change. he will always have you.

“i love you.” he whispers just under his breath, pressing another kiss to your forehead. and when you respond, he pulls you closer to him, cheap rosé long forgotten in the night.

after a few beats of silence, some catching up and lamenting his dumb jokes, you decide to bring up the one thing thats been on your mind.

“can i ask you something?”

“anything.”

“um… at that work party the other day… i overheard you talking with izuku and denki.” you mention, mind wandering back to that exact memory from a few days ago. you two were separated, your boyfriend catching up with his old colleagues.

his eyebrows furrow curiously, wandering what you overheard. “yeah.. what about it?”

“you told them that… that becoming a hero wasn’t the best thing thats ever happened to you. i got pulled away before i could hear what you meant.”

hitoshi is quiet for a moment, his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to explain his statement. a mixture of emotions flit across his face, embarrassment. he sighs softly and looks away, his face slightly flushed.

“i… i did say that, yes," he admits, his voice soft. "i guess it just slipped out, i didn’t mean for you to hear it."

you quickly shake your head, taking his hand again. “no, no. i’m not mad, or anything.” you chuckle.

“i’m just… curious. if not becoming a hero… whats the best thing thats ever happened to you?”

the fact that you’re asking, as if it isn’t already obvious, is nothing but endearing to him.

“meeting you, love.” he says, voice soft and sincere. “becoming a pro-hero is a dream come true… but being with you? it does’t even compare. its not even a contest, [y/n]. its you.”

your mouth goes slightly agape, your chest fluttering before looking down. your lips curve into a flushed, embarrassed smile. “oh, shut up.”

he laughs at this scene of you, how even after all this time he still manages to make you nervous. instead, he opts to cup your face and press his lips to yours.

and its a perfect kiss, the kind that saves you. its the kind that turns the pages, that heals all the pain of the past. its the kind of kiss that makes all of it worth it, that lets him know that he isn’t on his own.

[sopiloveshobi]

Back theory

Inspired by insanely buff Joon pictures that dropped today. Also I needed to make sure my friend can imagine what is like to feel a heavy, buff Joon on her 🤭 Love you Sam!

!Warnings: +18

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You took it out and saw a text message from the man you have been missing so much lately.

KNJ 8:45pm I can’t wait to get out of here. Another day where I felt useless as fuck. Honestly get me out of here already.

You chuckled reading the message. You received a message like that twice a week at least. He would moan about feeling useless and wanting to get out of his military service often. There were days when he felt proud to serve and when he achieved something, you would know about it the same evening. His free time was limited and so was his time off. Because of that last time you have seen him was few months ago and when you did it was only for a short amount of time. You had a coffee and a short walk around the park and then a meal together. There wasn’t enough of alone time. One on one time. Any sexy time. You have seen he has changed. Physically and mentally. Mentally he has been softer, there has been much more yearning going on, he was needy and he would occasionally send you a text or a picture with him admitting how much he misses you. Physically he has gotten bigger, bigger in general. At first you thought it was because he wasn’t dealing well with the fact that he was locked up there for a year and a half. He would just eat more than usual and skipped workouts. But you couldn’t have been more wrong, because he spent so much time exercising that all the weight he gained was already turned into muscle. At least that’s what you saw on the very last picture you found of him online. You weren’t doing it often but you knew you could find some of the more recent pictures of him floating around the web, because the fans just like you were yearning to Kim Namjoon. They were curious how was he doing and if he has changed at all.

KNJ 8:55pm I swear the day that I am out of here will be happiest day of my life. Second happiest. The first one was when you agreed to date me.

Another messaged popped on your phone. You smiled again. You were still thinking how to comfort him through the screen of a phone. What could you possibly say to him to make him feel better, less lonely, less like he should escape that place.

‘I miss you so much, when can I see you next?’ you responded to his text and locked your phone. You were in the middle of cooking yourself very late dinner. You were so busy all day and stayed at work longer than usually and completely forgot to eat. Your phone chimed again.

KNJ 9:01pm Soon angel, soon.

You didn’t know what kind of soon he had in mind. You didn’t want to know either. The days would only go by longer and as much as you would love to count them down, it was just easier not to. You have pulled the pasta out of the pot and strained it in the sink. The sauce was also ready and you poured it all over the pasta, grabbed glass of wine that has been your cooking companion since you got home. Tomorrow was Saturday and you were really looking forward to your weekly cleaning schedule. Religiously, every Saturday you would go around your entire flat and clean every nook and cranny. It was part of your routine that helped you feel grounded and in control. Because if you didn’t manage to ground yourself this way, you would be upset, ugly crying in your pillow all day missing Joon. It was difficult. It was worse than you thought it would be. When he announced that he will have to enlist, your heart broke into millions of pieces. You were unsure whether he would even continue your relationship in this scenario. Being away from him wasn’t unusual, but it felt more restraining. You knew you wouldn’t be able to be surprised by him coming from tour one day early, or fly you over to a random concert so you could watch from backstage and spend few hours together. But this felt different. It felt like he was further away than when he was on the other side of the world. You felt empty without him, because he was your home. You didn’t live together and there weren’t any recent mentions of this to change, yet still he was your comfort. Your home. And you were his. He very rarely would open up in front of you, but when he did, he made you realised how much he appreciated you, how much he loved you and how much of a safe zone you were for him.

You finished your pasta and your wine and were considering having another glass. But you decided against it, got up from your table and cleaned up after your dinner. Your phone buzzed again and you were hoping it was Joon but it was just a junk mail, about free vouchers you can claim. Since you already had your phone out you decided to snoop about the internet again and see if there was any newer pictures of your own boyfriend. How low have you stooped and how much have you been missing him to resort to looking him up. But you couldn’t find anything new. It was getting even later in the night and after a really long and tiring weekend you decided to get in bed and unplug. You have gotten ready for bed, brushed your teeth and completed your extended skin care routine, which you have always done on the weekends. You looked at the time and it was past 10 in the evening already. You turned all the lights in the apartment and got into your really cosy bed. You thought you might have trouble sleeping, but the second your head hit the pillow you felt like you’re floating and sailing away. Before you did actually fall asleep you sent a text to Namjoon: ‘Goodnight my love’. But you didn’t wait for an answer. You knew the answer might never come, at least not this evening. You put your phone away and closed your eyes. It was time for a sweet rest you felt like you deserved after the entire week of hustling.

The door lock clicked and a pair of heavy boots walked into the flat. The thumbing didn’t last very long and it got changed for a very quiet sliding noise. Quiet steps making their way to your bedroom. And you had no idea, sound asleep. Occasionally snoring and turning around. He walked into your bedroom and stood by the door. The moonlight poking through your unevenly closed curtains, straight at the bed, lighting your sleepy face. He would of sworn he could have looked at you like that for hours. But there was no time to waste. He slowly made his way around the bed towards the somewhat empty side of the bed. He slowly put his legs on top of the duvet and slowly put all of his weight on that side of the bed. You felt it but you only moved a little and turned around to face away. You were a heavy sleeper and at this very moment Joon wished you weren’t. He slowly got himself lower on the bed and moved towards your back. He put his hand on your side and the other slid behind your head, which you automatically lifted. Like it was natural, like it was a habit of yours. He put his chin as close to your ear as he could and whispered:

‘Angel, I’m home’ and he slowly glided his hand up and down the side of you. You didn’t budge. Nothing. Still sound asleep, sweetly unaware of the surprise waiting for you in your own bed. He repeated himself one more time but still nothing. It made him chuckle, it was so endearing that you were just so fast asleep and he was also amused by his own inability to wake you up. He decided kisses surely will be the way to go. He pressed his soft lips on the nook of your neck, and he kept peppering your cheek and neck with them until you finally started moving. You turned around, feeling another person around you and his smell surrounded you. You thought you were dreaming.

‘Joon?!’ you finally got your vision back after it has been blurry for a few seconds.

‘Yes angel, I told you I will see you soon’ his low raspy voice answered you and soon after you saw his gorgeous smile, his dimples on his face and his eyes turned into half moons.

‘Is this a dream?’ you asked him, not really fully believing your luck.

‘Not a dream, im off until Sunday and I will be staying with you until then if that’s okay’ he admitted and peppered another few kisses on your cheek. It was more than okay. You were in a little bit of a shock but once you managed to process the information you jumped on him. You lifted yourself slightly and crawled on top of him, wrapping both of your arms under his back and placing your head on his chest.

‘I’ve missed you so much’ you finally spoke, hearing his heart beating really fast in his chest. You looked up and locked your eyes with his. He smiled again and leaned his head down to reach your lips. And you reached back to him and his soft lips met yours. It started sweet and soft but it very quickly started turning fast. The both of you were yearning for each other for so long and the day has finally come. Neither of you would even come up for air, you would just take quick breaths in between the rushed kisses. You quickly felt him getting excited, as you were still laying on top of him and you were sure he could felt your excitement as well, through your very thin pj bottoms. You broke the kiss and got from him and from the bed.

‘Where are you..?’ he got really confused and instantly felt abandoned, missing you next to him.

‘I need to see you. I want the light on’ you answered, turning the corner light on. Still moody, not as obnoxious light as the top light would have been. You turned around and saw him laying in your bed, in his uniform. The expression on your face changed from excited to in awe. You couldn’t comprehend that he was there, he came home, he came to see you. He woke you up in the middle of the night to see you. You walked back to the bed and sat right next to him. He pulled himself up and was now half sitting with his back to the headboard, following your every move with his eyes.

‘Here I am’ he chuckled and made a funny ‘ta da’ like pose showing himself to you. And you giggled. He was so cute and so adorable yet so insanely hot.

‘Would you mind taking this jacket off? I need to check a theory’ you said with a cheeky smile on your face and he looked puzzled. A theory? Theory of what?

‘Theory of what exactly?’ he asked slowly unbuttoning his jacket. He took his time with it, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. He knew it would drive you crazy, as much as he played such an innocent soul, he knew all the weapons he was carrying.

‘Back theory’ you answered with a smile, as your pupils grew wider and wider, whilst he was working on unbuttoning his jacket. And he finally did, dog tags fell out dangling around his neck on his black undershirt. You spotted them but then you also noticed how they are dangling in front of his now huge chest. He has definitely changed. He is bigger now. Stronger. And your brain couldn’t handle it. You squeezed your eyes closed and opened them again just to make sure you aren’t actually dreaming. He took the jacket off completely, uncovering his really broad shoulders and incredibly buffed arms.

‘Do you want me to..?’ he asked, knowing you will not be able to say no to him continuing stripping for you. The black ROKA t-shirt that was now very tight around his upper body, slowly started rolling up as he kept pulling at the top of it. And with one fast move he pulled it fast, through his head and it landed on the floor. His dog tags still around his neck, now in front of his naked huge chest.

‘FUCK’ you only managed to squeak out when you saw him dropping the shirt on the floor. He was insane. He looked insane. All those pictures you have seen of him recently didn’t give him his justice. He looked even bigger in person than on those photos. You put your hand over your opened mouth and shook your head.

You sat there, feeling your underwear getting wetter and wetter. You could call it an ocean at this point. He got up from the bed and walked all the way around it to get to you. He helped you stand up on the bed and he was still somehow taller than you, even when you were on top of the bed. You bit your lip staring deeply into his eyes and you saw he wasn’t smiling anymore. You have also spotted a tent in his camo trousers. He grabbed you and pulled you to himself and you felt his strong arms around you now. He slowly glided his hand from your knee through your thigh and slipped his hand into your bottoms. He didn’t have to look for it long and his fingers felt the ocean that was currently drowning your cunt.

‘Fuck. Youre so wet’ he whispered into your ear and pulled your bottoms completely down. You unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, slowly pulling them down. And they fell down, stopping briefly at his perky ass but you helped them make their way down. He stood out of them and was now standing in front of you, only in his underwear with a very visible and feelable boner at your service.

He grabbed you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips. He turned away from the bed and pushed you to the wall. He nearly squeezed you at that wall. And started attacking your neck. Your wetness now coating his still hidden away but hard length. You wrapped your arms around him, and started exploring his back. It was rock hard, you could feel the muscles tensing whilst he was holding you and you enjoyed every second of it. You also moved your hands to his shoulders and arms to feel his soft skin and also all the places he grew. To remember it. To keep it in your closest memories. As he kept kissing your neck, he finally slowly put you down, on the floor this time, still pinning you to the wall. And he took both of your wrists into his hands and held them for a second above your head, kissed you aggressively and let go. He lowered himself on his knees and burrier himself in between your legs. Slowly moved on them onto his shoulder and held onto your other leg, slowly kissing your lower belly and reaching the sweet spot. He nudged your clit with his nose and started peppering the entire area with kisses, eventually stopping and slowly licking your folds. Very gently at first, almost like saying a polite hello to your body, acknowledging that he was gone from it for too long. But then he picked up his pace and started circulating around your clit, eventually adding a finger or two and sliding it inside you. You banged your head on the wall and moaned the second you felt his lips on your lower area. Your leg on his shoulder drove you mad but gave him more access. You put both of your hands on his head and let him explore. And be explored and took his time, like a thirsty adventurer who hasn’t been home in weeks. Like his life depended on it. And when he felt like he was finished and your knees started to shake and he was slowly pushing you into an orgasm he stopped.

He pulled himself out of you, smirked and slowly moved you from the wall to the bed. And he pushed you, delicately but he still pushed you on the bed and you fell on your front. He followed you right away and trapped you under the weight of his body. He laid his body on yours, pulled his hard length out of his underwear and aimed it right at your entrance. Slowly slid inside you, grabbing you into his arms and pushing into himself. He kept sliding until he got to your cervix. Balls deep inside you. But he didn’t move, he freezes there. He lets you adjust to him, and when he does he can hear your whimpers and moans. When he feels you relaxed around him he started moving his his hips and he started thrusting into you. And he didn’t take him time, he picked up his pace at the same time kissing your back, up your spine.

‘Joon…’ you whimpered, feeling his huge bulky body on top of yours, thrusting the life in and out of you.

‘Little bit longer angel’ he grunted into your back. He pulled out of you and entered again, really deep, reaching the deepest ends of you. And be picked up the pace again, now ramming into you. Wet skin sounds slapping fills the room, mixed with his grunts and your moaning. And he finally reaches forward with his arm and putting his fingers on top of your clit. That was when you couldn’t hold it anymore. You closed your eyes and pushed your ass higher up almost trying to escape him and your body got flooded with ecstasy. You kept moaning and whining and he wouldn’t stop. He kept going and then be pulled himself up and grabbed your hips and added another thrust or two before he reached his top and painted you inside. Painted you white and kept going for a few more minutes.

Your heavy breathing filled the room and he pulled out, slowly turned you around and placed you on the bed. He cleaned himself up with his black tshirt that was still on the floor and disappeared in the bathroom. He came back with warm towel and he wiped your legs and tummy with it.

After that he moved you slightly to the side and got into bed right next to you. His strong arm wrapped you around and you folded forward laying your head on his chest again.

‘Your back is ridiculously buffed Joonie’ you whispered slowly petting his chest with your palm.

‘There is nothing better to do in that shithole angel’ he murmured back ‘but i also liked the look of your back tonight angel’ he added and put his hand into yours and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

‘I’m so happy you are here’ you added, you closed your eyes and wrapped yourself around him, dozed off back to sleep.

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day Seven: Free Day – Only One Bed (Valicer In The Dark AU)

It's Day Seven, aka the finale of Valicer Polyship Week 2024, kindly brought to you by @polyshipweek! Today was the Free Day when it came to prompts, so I decided to scurry back to Day Five's list and grab the other prompt from that day that I was interested in -- "Only One Bed!" A classic fanfic trope to be sure -- and one that, for me, is probably permanently associated with my Valicer In The Dark verse, thanks to the fact that the gang's lair literally only has one proper bed. XD So, naturally, I had to write a fic about their bed situation! From Alice's POV, because I'd noticed that I'd written two fics from Victor's POV and three from Smiler's over the week, and I didn't want her to get shorted. This one was rather hard to bring together for some reason, but I got there in the end. Hope you enjoy!

--

When the Three Pillars first all moved in together, abandoning their old lives and claiming Elder Gutknecht’s home as their own, Alice had worried that the fact they only had one bed would turn out to be a problem.

Granted, they’d managed those first couple of days before killing Bumby all right, back before they’d realized they were going to be living together for the long haul – Smiler had been kind enough to immediately surrender any claim to the four-poster to their companions, and Alice had been happy enough to swap with Victor after the first Names (especially after seeing how poorly her new friend had slept on the floor). And yes, once they had realized living together was going to be a permanent change post-flight from the Van Dort mansion, one of the first things they’d done was set up a schedule to determine who got to sleep in the nice bed when, and who had to make do with the cots Smiler had sourced from their fellow Advocates. But Alice hadn’t been able to shake the conviction that, at some point, the bed was going to be a source of trouble. After all, going from an elegant four-poster to a rickety old cot wasn’t exactly the most pleasant experience – she’d been tempted a couple of times to refuse to give up her claim, and she was certain Victor and Smiler had too. It seemed only a matter of time before the schedule broke down and there was a fight over the damn thing. Not to mention she still didn’t fully trust that glass canopy, no matter how many times Elder Gutknecht assured her it was safe. So she kept an eye on the bed, and on her friends, and wondered what crisis would eventually spark.

And then, early one Numbers, Victor reluctantly admitted that, even with access to such a large and comfy bed, he was having trouble sleeping. And Smiler offered up their hypnosis skills to fix the problem, and she insisted on watching just for her own peace of mind. And that – that led to them all sleeping in the bed together, her and Smiler wrapped around an entranced Victor, unwilling to move for fear of waking him and undoing all their hard work. And that had indeed sparked a crisis – just not the one Alice had thought. She’d expected to feel awkward about sharing a bed with Victor and Smiler. To feel uncomfortable about finding herself in such close quarters with them, even if they were people she liked.

She hadn’t expected to enjoy it. To realize that she’d had one of the easiest Names’s sleep of her life in that bed, cuddled up tight against Victor’s back. To additionally realize that she’d actually rather – enjoyed seeing Smiler hypnotize him. That watching Victor slip into trance had been – weirdly inspiring in certain ways. That she wanted everything she’d seen the previous Names to happen again, if at all possible – and the next day, and the next, and the next. That – that she was pretty damn sure she was in love with Victor, and maybe Smiler too, in a different way. And she hadn’t really known how to hell to deal with all of that knowledge. So she’d tried instead to ignore it, avoiding Victor and Smiler’s eyes and refusing to bring it up in conversation. Tried to remind herself that, however nice it had been (and it had been nice, oh God she hadn’t had something so nice since she was small), it couldn’t be repeated. That she would have to just have to go to her cot that Names and go to sleep and try not to think about how warm Victor had been against her, how weirdly sweet it had been to open her eyes and see Smiler looking back at her –

And then. Then they’d gone to that rich toff’s house. And Victor had nearly fallen off the roof. And Alice had gotten a stark reminder that life was short and that she needed to tell the people she loved that she loved them before it was too late. So, once they’d finished the job and made it back home, she’d forced herself to say that they needed to have a talk –

And discovered that Victor and Smiler had enjoyed everything that had happened the previous night as much as she had, if not more. That they hadn’t known how to bring it up either, consumed by the same doubts she’d had. That they – they loved her too. And after that rather a lot of kissing had happened, and after that –

Well. Alice forced herself to be practical and insist that Smiler only take back one cot, and keep the others for emergencies. Who knew if any one of them might need it for some reason or another. But in truth, she didn’t think the extra cot was very necessary at all.

Turned out, one bed was more than enough for three people.

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 3: Keeping Up Appearances

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: I am so sorry that this is like half a week late, life really got me. The next chapter should be out on Wednesday, fingers crossed. Chapter 2 Chapter 1 AO3

As Francesca walked off after Lord Kilmartin, following his attempt to tell them all the story of his muddy boots, Violet slumped. She could see that Francesca was happy, but she just was not certain that he was the right person for her.

“What do you think?” Violet leaned in toward Agatha, awaiting her counsel. As far as Violet was concerned, Agatha was almost as perceptive as she was when it came to her children’s love lives and, Violet could admit to herself, she wanted Agatha’s approval.

“They are rather… similar” Agatha responded. Violet sighed. Their similarity was what worried her.

“Yes, but do you not think that Francesca could, in fact, use someone to bring her out of her shell? And given that the Queen is opposed…” Violet was worried about the Queen’s response, particularly after her children’s history of refusing the Queen’s matches.

“Oh! So much so it may have inspired her Whistledown reward today.” Agatha responded. Oh, wonderful. Violet pinched the bridge of her nose in some attempt to relax her mounting stress.

Anthony spoke up. “Perhaps, you should take the direct approach, for once.” Oh, because that ever worked, Violet thought to herself, turning toward him as he continued, “I know it is unlike you to cajole your children.”

She saw the smile threatening to burst onto her son���s face, “You mock me.” She replied, laughter lacing her tone.

“As you rightly mocked me all last season.”

Violet could not stop the shock showing on her face before she saw how much he was teasing and laughed quickly, turning away briefly. In doing so, she made eye contact with Lady Featherington, who waved brightly. Internally, Violet rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as she excused herself from Agatha and Lord Anderson, moving over to Lady Featherington.

“There you are, Lady Bridgerton. We keep missing one another.” Both ladies were quite jovial as they spoke.

“Duty of a hostess, I am afraid.” Co-hostess, verging on hostess in name only, but that would not excuse my refusal to speak with her, Violet thought internally.

“Well understood.” Lady Featherington responded. Violet hummed in agreement, allowing an uncomfortable silence to sweep over them. 

The clinking of a spoon on a glass broke the silence and Violet turned to see Colin proposing a toast. As Colin spoke, Violet allowed her thoughts to wander. She knew, logically, that Lady Featherington was going to be her family now, but that did not mean that it was any easier for her to handle a conversation with the woman. Knowing how much Penelope had struggled to thrive under Lady Featherington’s tutelage did not make it any easier for Violet, who had, some days, wanted nothing more than to take the girl into her house and protect her from the world, like she tried to do with all her children. However, seeing as they were being publicly joined, it was up to Violet to swallow her feelings and appear as a cohesive unit.

Violet was pulled out of her reverie by the clink of spoon on glass once more, this time by Eloise. Oh, this cannot be good. After Eloise’s response to the engagement, Violet had tried, several times, to speak to Eloise about whatever had come between her and Penelope, but her daughter refused to speak about it, to anyone. Violet paid attention as Eloise gave her toast.

“Congratulations to you both. Here is to truly knowing each other. Completely. Before the clock runs out.” Violet looked over to Penelope, who looked worried and perhaps scared, and she gave her daughter a piercing glare that said ‘be nice’. The glare worked and Eloise continued, clearing her throat. “The clock of life, of course. Ticks for us all. To your good health!” Violet could hear how strained Eloise’s voice was, but she dropped the matter in favour of taking the one small reprieve she had granted her. At least Eloise had not forgotten her manners completely.

“Thank you, Eloise, I--” Colin sounded perplexed, but it did not last long as Lady Featherington spoke up from next to Violet.

“I should like to add… how proud I am of my lovely daughter, Penelope.” Mentally, Violet’s eyebrows rose, but outwardly, she chuckled in support of Penelope, who looked like pride was the last thing she expected from her mother. “To the match of the season,” Violet laughed genuinely, agreeing with Lady Featherington for once, who finished her toast, “And to the Featherington-Bridgerton family.” Lady Featherington chuckled and Violet toasted quickly before taking a long drink from her champagne flute.

Violet overheard Benedict turn to his guest and say “I cannot tell if this party needs stronger drinks or weaker ones.” Violet agreed with the former, as she finished her glass, needing the fortification for the coming night and the coming life she would spend being linked to Lady Featherington.

“Now, perhaps, some dessert and charades, in the drawing room.” Kate spoke up, ever the consummate hostess. The assembly moved toward the drawing room. As they did so, Violet found herself face to face with Lord Anderson who simply smiled warmly and offered his arm to her as they ascended the staircase. She took it, smiling softly at him.

***

Once they reached the drawing room and everyone was seated comfortably, Violet and Lord Anderson stopped together, still arm in arm, to watch the charades. Anthony explained the rules and as Penelope stepped up, after being prompted by Kate, Violet turned to Lord Anderson, saying in hushed tones, “Penelope is quite good at this. We have had her play in many of our family charades games over the years. She and my daughter Eloise,” she indicated to where Eloise was standing near the wall, “are-- were quite close.”

Lord Anderson looked at her as he replied, “And now she is to be your daughter. You must be quite excited.”

“Indeed, I am. She and Colin are a fine pair.” Not to mention, not nearly as much hassle as my previous children’s matches. She looked over at Eloise as she completed Penelope’s charade before turning to Lord Anderson, saying, “While Colin may have been the first to meet Penelope, Eloise was the one to truly welcome Penelope into the family. The two have been inseparable ever since.”

The two paused their conversation to watch Eloise’s charade before Lord Anderson responded, “I cannot help but notice that they appear rather uncomfortable at the moment.” Violet looked at Lord Anderson, her eyes widening and her frame stiffening, shocked at his impropriety. However, she could not help but admire his perceptiveness as well. Lord Anderson looked slightly apprehensive as he waited for her response, turning back to the charades in case she did not take kindly to his assertions. She softened and turned to him.

“It-- They were close… until last year. I am not certain what has come between them, but I am… hopeful, that they will be able to sort it out before the wedding. The girls are like two peas in a pod, after all.” Lord Anderson turned toward Violet as she spoke, looking into her eyes. Violet trailed off uncertainly, stunned by his attentive gaze. She cleared her throat slightly and turned back towards the game to see Penelope’s charade being attempted by Miss Cowper.

She could feel Marcus’s elbow bracketing her side and she could not help from leaning in towards him slightly. She had not felt this kind of magnetic pull since she had been with Edmund, and she relished it, unable to keep the smile from her face. As Eloise successfully guessed friendship for Penelope’s charade, Violet nodded hesitantly, as she noticed that Lord Anderson did the same, now understanding as much as she did about their relationship.

The two stood happily together, watching the charades in companionable silence. Violet, however, found herself wishing that he would say something, anything, to break the silence. She wanted to get to know him more, but could not find the words. As they stood, he turned to her, quietly saying “I am quite parched. Would you like a drink as well?”

Violet turned to him. His voice was so melodic and she could almost get lost in it. “Yes,” was all that Violet could utter in her haze.

“I’ll get us a drink.” Lord Anderson touched her arm as he offered and Violet jumped slightly at the feeling. His hand was warm against her and it sent tingles up her arm.

“Oh, I-- That would be lovely.” He removed his arm and Violet came to her senses once more.

“Lemonade?” He asked. Violet turned toward the refreshments table and pointed as she responded.

“Yes, they’re just-- Just over there.” Violet watched Lord Anderson as he walked off, fiddling with her hands as she did. She smiled quietly, taking just a moment for herself before turning back to keep watching the charades alone. Well, if this isn’t a metaphor for my life, nothing is. She was surrounded by friends and family, but found herself alone. However, with Marcus, it was different. With Marcus, she did not feel so alone.

***

The moment Kate announced that she and Anthony were expecting was the last moment that Violet clearly remembered, when thinking back on the night of the engagement ball. She remembered being truly overjoyed for the pair, excited for them to experience the wonder that parenthood could be. After that, everything had happened entirely too quickly. Miss Cowper had announced her identity as Lady Whistledown, much to the shock of Violet and the other gathered guests and, of course, Penelope had fainted. Violet had rushed to get Mrs. Wilson, to get a doctor, to do something.

Despite Violet’s experience in dealing with sick children, she was at a loss of what to do. She settled to pacing quietly in the hallway, waiting for the doctor to arrive, which is exactly where Agatha found her ten minutes after Penelope had initially collapsed.

Ten steps up, ten steps back. Penelope will be okay, she must be. She is not Edmund; she will be okay. 

Violet was startled from her thoughts by a hand on her arm. Violet spun around, to find herself face to face with Agatha.

“Oh! I- I am just-- just waiting for the doctor to arrive. Someone should be here to…” Violet’s voice trailed off as she looked at Agatha timidly. “I-- There-- How is she?” Violet tried again, looking down at her fidgeting hands. Agatha’s eyes sought out her own, and when she finally met her gaze, Violet saw compassion there, so strikingly similar to her brother, not that she would admit that.

“Violet. Penelope is fine. She came around and she has had some water to drink, she will be okay.” Agatha said emphatically, keeping her hand on Violet’s arm. At the news, Violet allowed herself to deflate, all the frenetic energy leaving her body. Violet focused her attention on Agatha’s hand, allowing it to ground her. “She is okay.” Agatha repeated, likely seeing how it had soothed Violet to know that. Violet allowed the words to wash over her, to bring her out of her panic.

“Thank goodness for that, truly.” Violet took a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me know, Agatha.” Violet offered a small smile as she covered Agatha’s hand with her own.

“That is quite alright, Violet. Are you well?” Agatha looked concerned for Violet more than for Penelope, which, surely, did not make any sense.

“Yes, yes. I am fine, I was merely worried about her.”

“Violet, I found you pacing in the hallway and you had no idea I was coming, which is most unlike you. Here, come and sit.” With that, Agatha led Violet over to one of the benches that adorned the hallway and sat down. Violet sat down as well, her legs feeling jelly-like now that her energy had passed. “Now, Penelope will be quite all right. She is not Edmund. She is well. When I left, she was taking small sips of water at your son’s insistence.” Agatha placed an arm around Violet, who found herself needing to take deep breaths in order to avoid succumbing to the tears filling her eyes.

“I know that she is not Edmund… But… I just cannot help it. I could do nothing then and I could do nothing now. I did not wish for Colin to go through what I had to experience.” Violet continued to breathe deeply, trying to ground herself.

“Come. We shall go and see her and you can see that she is well for yourself.” Violet looked up at Agatha as she stood and offered her arm.

“Thank you, Agatha, truly.” Violet accepted her arm and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. She smiled sadly at Agatha, allowing herself to take strength from her dearest friend when she needed it. 

The two walked back toward the drawing room as if nothing was wrong. When they reached the drawing room and Violet saw Penelope sitting on one of the couches, she could not help the sigh of relief that she breathed. Violet looked at the assorted guests and saw only one pair of eyes focused on her, everyone else too focused on Penelope. Marcus looked at her with concern and compassion in his eyes. She smiled slightly and nodded to him, to show she was okay, as she slipped back into the role of co-hostess with Kate.

***

Mrs. Wilson had alerted Violet to the presence of a visitor in the entranceway the following morning, which led her to be caught off-guard when the visitor was none other than Marcus -Lord Anderson-, the very man who had been occupying her thoughts since the night before.

“Lord Anderson.” Violet said.

Hearing her voice, he turned away from the decorations that he had been examining on the side table and started walking towards her.

“Lady Bridgerton.” He said, and Violet bowed her head to him in greeting. “Forgive my intrusion. I simply forgot my, uh…” Lord Anderson trailed off as a footman approached. “Hat.” He finished, gesturing to the hat in the footman’s hands. They both chuckled at the impeccable timing, and Violet nodded in thanks to her footman. As Lord Anderson brushed his hat off, he did not make any movements to leave, so she took the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“Were you just, um…” Violet felt uncharacteristically nervous as she searched for the right words, “Passing by?” Lord Anderson laughed infectiously.

“Yes, I suppose I could have sent a footman to fetch this, could I not?” Violet laughed awkwardly. This conversation was not going the way she had wished. “But then I would not have been able to see you again.” 

Well, that was quite… forward. 

Violet allowed herself to preen slightly at his words. Lord Anderson was quite the flatterer, it appeared, as he continued. “Well, to thank you for such an enjoyable evening.”

Violet stepped forward towards him, feeling that magnetic pull that she had felt last night as she carried on with the conversation. “Well, it was… quite a night. Was it not?” She cast about for the words as she spoke, returning her gaze to find that he had also taken steps toward her, leading him to be far closer than she had expected.

“How are you faring?” Lord Anderson asked. Violet was slightly thrown from his proximity and she took a moment before responding.

“Uh…” Well, that was eloquent. “Besides a bit of a headache, I am well.” She responded, laughing slightly. She watched Marcus and saw adoration reflected in his eyes. It threw her, having not been on the receiving end of such a gaze since Edmund had passed. Violet looked down, no longer able to withstand the weight of his gaze, searching for something to say, something to continue the conversation that she was so enjoying. “How are you?” Violet said genuinely, trying to convey her concern whilst still remaining polite.

Lord Anderson took a moment to respond, his smile hesitating. “I take it you sensed a chilly departure between my sister and me?” She had not intended to be quite so confrontational about it, but took the opportunity that presented itself.

“Perhaps. Though it is none of my business.” Violet was quick to assure Lord Anderson that he need not speak of anything he did not want to.

“I do believe we will work it out. Childhood grievances have a way of lingering. My sister was the first born.”

“But you were the first boy.” Violet interjected understandingly. Lord Anderson nodded.

“But we are adults now… Surely, there is a way forward.” Lord Anderson said, hopefully. Violet huffed a small laugh, knowing Agatha’s ability to hold a grudge.

“I have faith you will find a way.” Violet offered her support, not for one side or the other, but just for them both to move forward. So I might pursue a relationship with him while maintaining my closest friendship, her brain supplied traitorously.

“Thank you.” Lord Anderson smiled gratefully, “I shall let you nurse your headache in peace.” Violet took a few steps back, laughing, but with a tinge of sadness that he was ending the conversation. “But I do hope to see you soon.” With that simple sentence, her sadness left her and her heart bloomed with hope.

“As do I.” Violet allowed her hope and affection to shine through on her face, smiling as he left. She began to walk to the drawing room, looking back to where he had just left and smiled happily to herself. 

As Violet walked into the drawing room, she was shaken from her reverie, by hearing her children arguing over the macarons, but was too elated from her conversation with Lord Anderson to bother trying to break up the argument. Instead, she simply picked up her embroidery and sat down, mulling over her conversation.

[reflections-from-the-road]

A lighter. A fire. A small flame. Inhalation and exhalation, clouds of thick smoke... ↓

Today I would like to share with you the first two paragraphs of my novel – the ones that started it all. 📖✨ Although the text has already undergone many changes, I want to be honest with you. Working on such a large project is a constant search, improvement and rediscovery – in a word: changes, changes, changes…

A lighter. A fire. A small flame. Inhalation and exhalation, clouds of thick smoke. I could smell spring rain in the air. The day was quite pleasant; the sun gently broke through the heavy, gray clouds, giving me hope for the rest of the warm day. At times, my hands trembled slightly, revealing the emotions hidden inside me. Tension and a specific, thick atmosphere accompanied me from the moment I woke up. I felt anxiety that settled in my stomach, almost reaching my throat. That day, various feelings, usually unpleasant, were swirling inside me. But above all, I thought about the fact that I would be playing out this scenario for the third time. I adjusted my glasses and took a drag on my cigarette, looking at the bulky, gray building. I clearly felt a sense of minority next to it, perhaps because of my previous experiences. However, for many residents of this backwater city, this building was one of the few symbols of modernity and good taste, and above all, prestige. Despite this common opinion, for a long time this building had not stood out in any way to me. A large gray block, completely without character. Bland. My gaze wandered over the raw walls, which seemed to absorb every shade of light, thus reflecting the darkness and corruption hidden inside. This place had already opened the door to a new world and numerous prospects for me twice - it did not work out. That is why, standing there on this spring day, I hesitated whether it was worth entering once again. Did its interior really hide the potential of new possibilities?

Every word that was written then was a small step towards what Acta Est Fabula is becoming today. It is a journey full of emotions, doubts and passion. I hope this fragment shows you how this story begins – and maybe inspires you to share your own beginnings. What was your first step in realizing your dreams? 🌟

[torturedcoveydepartment]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT ANALYSIS

I had some left over time in class today, and guess what. EVERYTHING about the tortured poets department is so clear to me after my deep-dive analysis on the little snippet of lyrics that Taylor posted on her socials. The glass isn’t stained anymore.

“So I enter into evidence. My tarnished coat of arms”

This paints us a picture of a courtroom, which applies to the terms used, as well as the song- and album’s title. She enters into evidence, which she also understands. Tarnished is synonymous with losing luster and “shine”. Coat of arms is a symbol which brings honor to family name (often seen on weapon shields). Taylor Swift’s name has been beaten multiple times by critics and slammed with hate storms. However, she’s still standing. But with a tarnished image ish.

“My muses, acquired like bruises. My talisman and charms”

You might think of muse as a good old friend - which is totally true. But it’s in fact a person or imaginary being that brings the artist inspiration. Those muses acquired like bruises, and from past albums we know colors are significant. “And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue” as an example from All too well (10 minutes version). Therefore, my interpretation is that the people who betrayed her, or treated her unfairly, which she later on has written songs about are referred to as bruises - and that’s what she’s in court for. People having opinions on “the morality” of her past lovers being metaphorically written into music. Talismans is an object that brings luck. Keeping the owner safe. As an example, her favorite number 13. My first thought when analyzing this was “OH MY GOD WITCHY EVERMORE” btw.

“The tick, tick, tick of the love bomb. My veins of pitch black ink”

A timer before the relationship blows up. After all there’s something called “love bombing”, a use of overt affection to manipulate the other part into staying. We can also see former usage like of ticking noise such as “I laid the groundwork and then just like CLOCKWORK. The dominoes cascaded in a line” and “Tick tock on the clock I pace down your block. I broke my own heart cause’ you were too polite to do it”The pitch black ink is 100% a wave to creativity and her thoughts flowing into her art. An insight into how her mind works. This supports my thought of the song being about the world’s judgement.

“All’s fair in love and poetry. Sincerely the chairman of the tortured poets department”

There’s a saying “all’s fair in love and war” which points to a situation where people don’t follow the usual rules of behavior, an event where you don’t have to obey. Taylor has replaced war with poetry, which is so incredibly beautiful. Sticking with rules isn’t required in poetry. The entire point is your freedom of self-expression. AND THAT’s why it’s the tortured poets department. The feeling of being told what’s right and wrong about THEIR EMOTIONS. The chairman is the one in charge of the committee or organization, and they are stating this. The world’s critical structured thinking is suffocating.

This might be all wrong. BUT I DON’T KNOW IT FEELS REASONABLE? Taylor Swift is such a TALENTED, MASTERMIND, MASTERPIECE, BEAUTIFUL ARTIST

[originalcursed]

[ riley voelkel, female, she/her] - was that freya mikaelson i saw arriving into beacon hills today? i hear that they are 1000+ and are a witch. they are known to remind others of the one who got lost, wishing for a happy ending and family loyalty . i do wonder what adventures are in store for them?

"My family's about to be pulled apart and there's literally nothing I can do about it. I'm supposed to be the big sister that could fix everything..."

name: freya mikaelson

age: 30/1000+

species: witch

sexuality: bisexual

Freya is the firstborn child of Mikael and Esther, the elder sister of Finn, Elijah, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik, the maternal older half-sister of Klaus. She is the paternal aunt of Klaus and Hayley's daughter, Hope. She is the bereaved mother of her and Mathias' unborn son. Freya is also the wife of Keelin and the mother of their son, Nik.Esther told Mikael that Freya had died of the plague while he was off hunting, when in fact her aunt Dahlia took her as payment for performing a fertility spell using Dark Magic that would allow Esther to have children. Dahlia allowed Freya to live planning to use her to brand a new form of power which she would absorb from the powerful Freya, casting a spell on her that causes her to hibernate for a hundred years to preserve her youth and to only age for a year upon awakening which is also presumably what Dahlia has done to preserve herself as well. Freya escaped from under Dahlia's wing and fled from her powerful aunt.Centuries later, desperate to find out more about her family, she traveled to New Orleans in 1914 where she attended a Christmas party thrown by her siblings. Attending as her brother, Kol's date, she was witness to Klaus' cruelty when he staked Kol in front of the entire party. Freya then puts herself in a glass coffin in the Dowager Fauline Cottage where she then repeated her hibernation cycle until awaking December 31, 2012.Entering a deep sleep that lasted a century, she awoke 100 years later where she discovered that her sister, Rebekah, had been imprisoned in the Asylum in the body of a young witch. Posing as an inmate, she witnessed Rebekah's confrontations with the Kindred and Cassie's betrayal. Using her magic, Freya saved Rebekah from the Kindred and broke the spell on the Asylum, freeing herself and Rebekah.When Freya reunites with her brother Finn, he informs her of Hope's life, which inspires Freya (who wishes to take revenge against Dahlia for the deaths of her lover and son) to kill Dahlia in protection of her niece. In the end of hard long magical struggle (resulting in the death of both her parents), Freya and her younger siblings finally managed to defeat Dahlia, with Freya's finally winning her younger brothers trusts (especially Niklaus), and moving into their house as Hope's caretaker and an official Mikaelson sibling.After a few months of peace in the supernatural community in New Orleans, trouble started again with the arrival of Lucien Castle, Klaus' first progeny, and his warnings of war between the sirelines, and so, Freya's enormous magical powers were needed again to protect her family from harm.After the completion of the prophecy foretelling the downfall of her family, it seemed as though the entire family was going to die. She was poisoned, her brothers bitten by Marcel, and Rebekah hexed. Seeing no other choice in saving her family, Freya used Klaus as an anchor to a spell similar to the one Dahlia had cast on her to keep her breathing for a thousand years. Freya also created a Chambre de Chasse as a way to allow her family to be together whilst waiting for Hayley to find cures for all of them.

At present, Keelin is known to Freya but they are not married. I have that Freya no longer sees Keelin as they broke up.

[meggigoering]

📖September 23, 2023

🦈The stinky has just surpassed himself today. I'm telling you. Like any stupid criminal, he is driven by a very clear and simple motivation: he needs me to die faster than him. Since he is still at large and has not yet been detained for state maintenance, this moron inspired by impunity believes that it will last forever. That's why for the last three days my dogs and I have been suffocating from the smell of stinking and its chemical pouring. To be honest, sleeping in this is terribly unpleasant, because it strangles a cough and pus flows from the throat, eyes, nose and lungs. That's why I open the door so that somehow the stinky’s chemistry and stench pull out with his urine. Now the stinky began to close the door, and he doesn't let me ventilate to enjoy his chemical poison to the fullest. At night, I wake up from being strangled by a cough from the stench. But the most important indicator is the condition of my dogs. You can see everything from their paws and skin at once. In short, the stinky has now decided to kill me with his chemistry, or just crash, so now he doesn't let me ventilate, and makes me breathe death the stench of his rotten urine, his dog's excrement, and his killer chemistry. Today, while I was going on business, a stinky stole a trash can, and when I returned to the apartment, he began to complain to me about the fact that I allegedly stole a trash can. I usually see what's going on in the apartment while I'm away, and then I got distracted and looked at the cameras half-eyed, I just saw it all the time while I was gone, the stinky rubbed in the kitchen. Fuck him, the trash can is really theft of the century. Snead the trash can from the kitchen to accuse me of theft! I should have thought of it!

But then everything turned out to be even funnier - the trash can was discovered half an hour later when I threw the packaging from my dogs’ food, in the drawer under the sink where it always stood. Only now it lies on its side, and the garbage bag is taken out of it.

And in the afternoon the stinky arranged a whole comedy when he took out his stinky dog - he clasped with it from the street, and played a show as his money fell from his pockets, cried loudly with his squealing voice so that my dogs began to show interest in what was happening. His phone kind of broke yesterday. The day before yesterday, this moron came out into the corridor and shouted "call the dogs, call the dogs, call the dogs," while I and the dogs were sitting quietly sitting in the kitchen in our corner, until the stinky began to yell on one note, call the dogs, call the dogs, call the dogs. In the afternoon, the kitchen was flooded with some kind of fish shit. In short, this moron is now either trying to drag me into the conflict on any shit, or he's a real schizophrenic. I did not tell the story of Pirogovka, Samara Hospital, where the only trauma center is nearby. I'm not in the mood to write today, in short, the stinky didn't just beat me until the ovary broke. A closed abdominal injury is a very unpleasant bullshit, which is not noticeable externally, but it feels very well inside. In my body, in addition to the ovary, I also had a stomach, pancreas, intestines, and many other different organs. What I want to say is that a bruise of the kidneys, stomach and pancreas is not a ram sneezing to you. And in addition, since the poisoning of the mustard gas is very clearly visible from the tests, Pirogovka did not just draw up my documents on this incident with the stinky for several different names and surnames (of course, the wrong ones). In principle, I was not given a medical history on request, blood tests evaporated in an unknown direction, along with abdominal ultrasound and images. Can you imagine what kind of stinky and his girlfriend Tatiana Vladimirovna Shumilova's roof is? In 2021, her daughter Shumilova Valeria Sergeevna broke my head with a glass cup, a piece of cup flew away and cut the back of my unfortunate lovely Dalmatian Harry. Tatiana Vladimirovna Shumilova (this is a bitch that many of my acquaintances mistakenly knew as my mother) calling an ambulance and said that Anna Andreeva was visiting their home, who herself fell and hit her head against the wall.

So the falsification of the medical history after the assault of Sergei Mikhailovich Shumilov's and other members of the Orekhovskaya family of prostitutes Valeria Sergeevna Shumilova, Tatiana Vladimirovna Shumilova, and their friends like Asya Ramazanova and Sveta Fomina is the norm. They have such a method of work - to break my head, or to break my tooth, at worst to poison with something, and then to tell that no one beat anyone, and did not poison, did not break teeth. Is the blood flowing from the cut wound? So she herself fell, slipped probably, was drunk and had schizophrenia, and she has hallucination Actually, that's what they tell the police and others, including their neighbors. Scum, rare scum. They hit me all evening again. When will the disinfectants from the seven come to pick them up? It is unbearable to breathe this crap anymore and listen to how the Orekhov bastard asks not to slam the door to the bathroom filled with his chemistry. They're all fucked up.

It's like in that joke:

- Tell me how your wife died.

- She ate mushrooms and died.

- But why does she have marks on her head from forty blows with a heavy blunt object and 12 knife wounds?

She didn't want to eat mushrooms.

👩‍💻The illustration is here:

https://pin.it/4dqCr82

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[christowhore]

Redeeming Myself

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader

summary: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, chris makes it his mission to prove to you how much you mean to him.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is 29, chris is 40), angst, reminiscing on past actions, fluff, talks with therapist, chris makes up for bad behavior, slight alcohol consumption, smut, happy endings, rpf !!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!!

notes: the final installment of Pining for Professor. it was only supposed to be a one shot, but i got inspired and expanded it. it took a while cause writers block, but it’s here. for anyone who has read the series, thank you and hope you enjoy ! 💓🥰

i do not allow the reposting, rewriting or translating of my fics. these are works of my own and i do not give permission for any of the acts stated above.

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SERIES MASTERLIST • MAIN MASTERLIST

For a month and a half following that afternoon, Chris began to go above and beyond to mend his mistakes in an effort to regain your trust.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been forgiven for the hurtful words he hurled at you, the voice he raised, and his cold demeanor through it all. But you forgave him nonetheless, which he was eternally grateful for.

Chris suspected that his venom-laced words still took a toll on your overall being. He sensed it in the way your usual humming was kept to a minimum, as did your soft caresses to his body. The fun facts that you would randomly blurt out had basically become nonexistent.

You hadn’t tried initiating sex with Chris due to still being affected by his actions, which was understandable to the brunette.

He could tell you were being cautious around him, which broke his heart more than he could’ve imagined.

The two of you never really talked in depth about what happened, deciding to push it under the rug and move past it. But ignoring the elephant in the room could only last for so long.

That morning was no different. He had spent the night at your place and decided to wake up and make you breakfast in an effort to mend the faltering relationship.

You woke up to an empty bed, something that you were used to since Chris had always been an early riser. Getting your morning routine out the way, you made your descent downstairs with the smell of pesto guiding you down the steps.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw the sight of your topless boyfriend, donning only a pair of boxers and an apron. You watched as he studiously focused on the skillet in front of him. His intense focus and the sounds of eggs frying in the pan made him oblivious to your arrival.

It wasn’t until you made your way towards the fridge next to him, that he registered your presence. “Morning princess, you sleep well.”

“Yeah, I slept fine,” your voice still a bit gravely from your slumber. You poured yourself a glass of orange juice, ignoring the intense gaze from Chris in your peripheral vision.

He was so used to having you touch him in the mornings. Not so much in a sexual way, but more intimately. The way your lips would ghost against his shoulder blade, your palms would hold his sides and pull him against you so that way you could bask in his warmth. Your arms would wrap around his front until your fingers absentmindedly toyed with his lower abdomen, playing with the wisps of hair on his happy trail.

He missed when you would move your lips until they met the space behind his ears, giving light open mouth kisses. The sound of you whispering ‘Morning daddy’ would leave him awestruck. Even though the words were a regular occurrence for him to hear, it was the way you would say it in your morning voice that made it ten times more special.

Though those actions might seem minuscule to others, they meant the world to him and it was killing him that he hadn’t been able to experience such tender moments with you in a while.

“I’m making breakfast- pesto eggs and some bacon for you. It’ll be done in a minute.”

You nodded along before heading to the table, phone in hand while catching up on your morning news.

It didn’t take long before a steaming plate was placed in front of you, the scent of garlic and basil already making you salivate.

Chris sat besides you and watched as you dug a fork into your meal, a smile reaching his face as he heard your content moans.

The two of you ate in silence, only the sound of soft chewing and utensils hitting your respective plates could be heard.

Every so often, you would feel Chris peek at you, hoping for you to start up a conversation with him like you always did. It’s not like you didn’t want to, it was just that you were still hurting due to his words. You know from a psychological standpoint that there was something going on inside of him that caused him to lash out, which you understood. But it didn’t aid in diminishing your apprehensiveness towards opening up to him, afraid that another fight would break out and hurtful words would again be hurled.

He could sense the internal struggle battling within you so he spoke up, breaking you out from your subconscious.

“I know I’ve been saying this repeatedly over the past few weeks, but I want you to know how sorry I am,” Chris sympathetically stated, “You didn’t deserve what I put you through, the things I said. I just hope that we're able to someday go back to how we were.”

You sat there staring at the man in front of you. Was there a way that the two of you can revert to what once was? Could you actually forgive him?

Not knowing how to properly respond, you simply nodded. A tight lipped smile was evidence that Chris had a lot of making up to do.

Finishing up breakfast, you excused yourself to your office to go and work on your dissertation, leaving the brunette alone with his thoughts.

He knew that he needed to do something big to make up for his actions. He also knew that he needed to figure out why he lashed out on you.

Taking out his phone, he clicked on a saved contact and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear.

“Morning, I’d like to make an appointment as soon as possible. It’s an emergency.”

Chris sat on the plush maroon couch, his eyes getting reacquainted with the familiar setting. The office had a few knick knacks littered around the space. A potted plant here and there. Motivational, yet cheesy posters on the wall. An assortment of magazines on the coffee table.

He hadn’t been here in a while, his usual talks were about his anxiety and dealing with fame. But for this appointment it was about you- specifically how he treated you.

The new topic was foreign to him, resulting in the brunette not knowing how to address it. So he silently sat there as his therapist, Dr. Reynolds, held her pen in her hand and studied his behavior.

“So,” she cautiously started, “What brings you in today?”

Chris sat there twiddling his fingers at her question. There could’ve been a few reasons that brought him in, but the main one was why he said the things he hurled at you.

He proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes recapping the events that had transpired, making sure to not spare any detail. After his spiel, Dr. Reynolds skimmed through her notes that she jotted down during his explanation.

Looking up from her notebook, she locked eyes with the brunette. “Do you think that some of your actions correlate with self-sabotaging behaviors? How, when you opened yourself up to her so suddenly it made you feel scared? Scared that you might need to face those fears that are plaguing you.”

Chris sat there incredulously, “Well- I mean no. I don’t think so.”

The pair talked for over an hour, going over the usual allotted time as they broke down why Chris had acted a certain way.

He realized the anger he felt was a coping mechanism to avoid feeling what he truly felt: fear. Mainly his fear of commitment. Part of him was scared that any future marriage would end up like his parents, in divorce. He feared that you would stop loving him. He feared that he would stop loving you.

And that fear was ultimately pushing you away from him. Which uncovered the biggest fear of all, losing you.

Dr. Reynolds eventually received a knock on her door, indicating a waiting patient, causing their therapy session to be cut and saved for another day.

“Thanks doc, I think I know what I need to do now.”

After some much needed self-reflection made in the meeting with his therapist, Chris knew what he had to do. Leaving the office, he pulled out his phone and dialed his publicist, Megyn.

A few rings later, he went into detail to the blonde about his plan. Not caring about what the press might say, or how his fans might react, he needed to get it done.

She wasn’t too keen on dealing with the impending press that would come from it, but she was happy that he was able to find someone that he truly loved.

He went back to your place that evening with a refreshed mind. The rest of the day went by as usual, you both did your own respective things, the tension still heavy in the air.

As you both started on your own night routine, his main focus was on you. He didn’t even know he stopped brushing and was staring until you snapped your fingers in front of his eyes.

“Earth to Chris, everything alright?” your tone was light and airy, hinted with a bit of joy.

Chris looked at the slight smile on your face and was reminded all over again as to why he fell for you. That smile was something that was so ingrained in his mind that not even old age could make him forget it. It warmed his entire being whenever he was sad and it made him realize he could never take it off your face for the rest of his days.

“Yeah princess,” he whispered, still lost in you, “I’m alright.”

You nodded along to him, though your eyes squinted a bit due to being curious of his change in demeanor. Before he was overly cautious around you, now it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Before you could set your toothbrush down and set out for bed, he stopped you with a hand on your elbow, pulling you into him. Not caring that there were still dribbles of toothpaste in his mouth, he leant down and attached his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, he was desperate to feel your softness against him though wasn’t trying to rush the act in any way. Moving his hand up, he held onto your cheek in an effort to pull you even closer than you already are.

The smell of your lavender night cream instantly calmed him, making him feel safe in your embrace and absentmindedly smiling into the kiss.

Chris finally pulled away, only slightly, to look down on you with a dopey grin. “God I’m in love with you.”

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile reached your face to match the man across from you.

“I love you too love bug,” you sighed against his lips, “You probably should’ve rinsed your mouth though, I can taste your toothpaste.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, just got caught up in the moment.”

Chris kept you secured in his arms as he continued to stare down at you. There was something different about him, specifically the way his gaze was directed at you. Though you were not complaining.

“How about we bring back date night? I can cook and we can finally sit and talk to one another like we used to.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his pleas. It had been a while since you two sat down and basked in each other’s presence. The thought had you hopeful that things could go back to normal.

“I would love that,” you began, “How about Friday? I have a test for a few of my classes this week so we can do it once I’m all free.”

Chris smiled down at you with eyes evident of his admiration for you, “Friday is perfect.”

The rest of the week went on rather differently than previous ones. Your touches came back to his body, fingertips grazing alongside him whenever he was close. Chris would regularly kiss your cheek or top of your shoulder anytime he had the chance.

You did take notice of him on his phone a lot, part of it filled you with uneasiness but the rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t something to ponder too much over, so you let it go.

Chris had been spending the entire week making sure that his plan was rolling smoothly. He had the entire date night planned to a T. He informed his family about it, who were ecstatic for him, making his own mother tear up due to how happy she was. He made sure to have everything ready at the house so that everything would be successful.

The day of the planned affair, you were stuck in your home office grading the last set of tests before being able to officially clock out for the evening. Inputting the grades into Blackboard, you were brought out of focus due to the sounds of buzzing from your phone. Picking up the device, you unlocked it and saw the incoming text from your boyfriend.

Chris: Baby, I know you’re still probably finishing up, but dinner will be ready at my place at around 7. I put something on your bed for you to wear. See you soon!

The endearing message made you smile and also feel a bit elated. You missed the intimate moments shared between you and Chris. The loving looks sent your way, the delicious food and engaging conversations. But most importantly, you missed the sex. Before, the two of you were like jackrabbits, the longest you both went without getting hot and heavy was about 2 days. Now going on over two months, you were becoming insatiable.

Quickly inputting the final test scores in your online grade book, you got ready for your night in with Chris. Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room to be hit with a bit of nostalgia. Laying on the bed was the same black dress that you wore on your first date with him.

With the amount of dresses you had in your wardrobe, it was a shock that he was able to find the specific one you wore that night. The sentiment warmed your heart and filled you with hope.

Rushing to get ready, you went and got dressed, making sure that you appeared your best before heading out.

It was only a quick drive to his home, before you were sat in his driveway.

Your mind was plagued with worry. You feared that if this night didn’t go well, then it would ultimately mean the end of your relationship with the man. Taking in a deep breath, you calmed your nerves before exiting the vehicle and made the trek towards his front door.

Using the house key you still had attached to your own ring set, you unlocked the door and walked in though you didn’t get far when the sight before you made you stop and gasp.

Starting from the front door laid a trail of rose petals leading you through the house. The thoughtful effort made tears begin to form in your eyes and your breath unsteady.

Following the trail, the same smells of vegetables sautéing brought you back to that time over a year ago.

Once you made it inside the kitchen, you saw Chris with an apron adorning his massive frame on top of his suit. Once he took notice of your arrival he turned around and smiled at you. “There you are sweetheart. I was waiting for you to show.”

He turned down the fire before gliding towards you, about to reach down and kiss you when you beat him to it.

Grabbing a hold of either side of his face, you slammed your lips to his; the action surprising you both. You delivered him repeated pecks which caused the brunette to laugh between every one of your kisses.

Getting enough of your intimate fill, you pulled away from him and looked up. “What’s the special occasion? I mean I know it’s date night, but still.”

Chris brought his hands down to rest on the dip of your back before pulling you in closer to him. The action caused your neck to crane up to look directly into his eyes.

“I wanted to make things right with my best girl.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the slight Captain America reference before delivering another kiss, “Thank you, I love it.”

The meal went according to plan, the two of you enjoying the same shrimp scampi dish he made on your first date together.

You were sipping on your glass of wine when you heard Chris speak up.

“Though I’ve said it more times than either of us can count, I need you to know how regretful I am of how I acted.”

You sighed at his words, “Chris, I said it’s-”

“No, it’s not okay (Y/N),” he interrupted you, “It wasn’t okay for me to lash out at you. It wasn’t okay for me to hurt your feelings.”

“Tonight, I tried to recreate our first date together to show you just how much you mean to me.”

Chris had rehearsed what he was planning on saying for the past few days, but here now in this moment he couldn’t remember a single prepared line. So he just decided to follow his heart.

“(Y/N). The day I met you, it was one of the greatest days of my life. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but fate brought us together- well I guess I should say Ma did with her insisting.”

His words caused you to chuckle, “I can see where you got your determination. She really didn’t quit until she finally got us in the same room.”

The memory of Lisa bringing you two together that afternoon warmed both of your hearts.

“That day we met was the day I knew that there was no one else in the world that would matter to me as much as you would. Every single day that I get the pleasure of seeing that look on your face will forever make me the luckiest man on the Earth. So when I hurled those words at you and took that smile away, it made me feel horrendous.”

You didn’t even realize you had started crying until you felt the warmth of your tears sliding down your cheeks.

Chris reached across the table and curled his fingers around your hand, slightly stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend that I could be. I realized that my own fears of commitment caused me to take out my frustrations out on you, and absentmindedly pushed you away. But I realized that pushing you away was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”

He felt his heart rate race and his organ beat heavily in his chest, his anxiety slowly rising.

“You are the greatest thing to happen to me. You make the worst days seem minuscule whenever you’re around. I love the way you’re able to always help push me through any obstacle I face, no matter how big or small it may be. The way you easily get along with my crazy family. And I love how you make me feel like I am floating on cloud nine anytime I kiss you.”

Chris felt his hands begin to sweat. One of his hands clasped onto yours, while the other held onto the small box in his left pocket of his slacks.

“A few days ago I had a session with my therapist about you. And during it I realized how much I care about you, and how losing you, even though it was brief, was the worst thing I had ever experienced.”

Slowly standing up on shaky legs, he brought you up with him.

“I had to secretly figure out the right size while you were sleeping the other night,” he began to joke, “You don’t know how hard it was to get the measurement done considering how light of a sleeper you are.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest. You suspected that something was different about his behavior and this evening, and your suspicions were slowly coming to light.

“I can’t ever experience the feeling of not having you by my side again. Waking up to a cold bed and not seeing the way your nose would sometimes crunch up while you're deep in a dream is something I never want to go through again.”

Chris reached into his pocket of his pants and pulled out a cherry red box. The sight of the gold inscription labeling 'Cartier' made your breath catch in your throat and tears fall freely down your face.

The height difference was changed when he steadily dropped down on his left knee, his tear filled blue eyes looking up at you.

“(Y/N), you make me the happiest man in the world. And I know it’s a stereotypical line for me to say, but it’s true. I love how you’re able to bring the best out of me and everyone around you. I love how you love everyone unconditionally. God, I love how fucking breathtaking you are. I am in love with everything about you.”

Letting go of your hand, he held the box in his grasp before cracking it open. The action caused your hands to cover your mouth and you to bend at the knees. With the aid of the lights around the room, it unveiled to you a marquise cut diamond. One either side were two stones. On the left was a pearl, indicating his June birthstone. The other side showed your gemstone, the rocks pairing perfectly with one another.

“So,” Chris began with a shaky breath, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you do me the honor and make me the luckiest person in the world. Will you marry me?”

Your body shook with sobs as you nodded along to his question.

“Wait, are you saying yes?” Chris asked, excitement evident in his tone. “I don’t know if that’s you nodding yes or no.”

Removing your hands from your face you grasped on to your now fiancé’s, “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

Chris didn’t even get the chance to put the ring on you before raising up and slamming his lips against yours. Both of you tasting the salty tears that expelled from the other.

It was his turn to lay a continuous stream of kisses to your lips. Soft chants of ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth between every one.

Pulling away, he retrieved the ring from its box as you held up your left hand. You watched as he slid the band down your finger until it situated perfectly against the base. A content sigh left the both of you.

Chris brought your hand up and kissed the back of it and then your ring finger before locking eyes with you.

You two stayed like that for a while, your gaze flicking back and forth between each other’s lips until finally you two connected them.

This time, the embrace was intimate, more passion filled. Your hands folded against the nape of his neck, the coolness of the gold band making him smile with contentment.

With his hands holding onto your hips, he guided you back until you were met with resistance from the wall behind you; the sudden force causing you to lightly grunt into his mouth.

Lowering his hands until his palms rested on the back of your thighs, he tapped on your skin, an unspoken request for you to jump. While securing your hold on his neck, you jumped up and rested in his palms. With you in his hands, Chris began to walk the two of you towards his bedroom. Since Dodger was staying at his mom's house, he didn’t bother closing the door, not worrying about any sudden intrusion.

Your mouth was still attached to Chris when he laid you down, you head against the soft pillow on the plush bed. His frame towering over you as he shook off the suit jacket from his body, kicked off his shoes and toed his socks away.

“I love you so much (Y/N),” he swooned through kisses.

“I love you too Chris.”

Untying the front of your wrap dress, the silk material fell to the sides of your body, revealing your figure which was only covered by a thin, lace pair of underwear. The sight of your half naked self made him growl down at you in desire.

Removing his lips from yours, he descended down your body, leaving kisses in his wake.

“You’re all mine.”

His lips kissed around your taut nipple, his tongue poking out to flick at your pert bud.

“Forever and always.”

You felt him leaving traces of wetness from open-mouth kisses on your abdomen.

“The love of my life.”

His fingers dug into the sides of your thong before dragging it down your legs.

“My beautiful fiancé.”

You breathing hitched as you felt his warm breath fan across your exposed cunt. The hot air was a stark contrast to the cool slick of your dripping wetness.

“The future Mrs. Evans.”

And with that, Chris flattened out his tongue before running a long stripe up your pussy, lapping up your wetness until he curled it around your clit. “Oh fuck, Chris.”

How exhausting the sexual hiatus that you experienced with the brunette was evident due to how you were squirming on the bed. Your hands spread throughout the sheets, gripping and tugging in an effort to gain some form of steadiness. Over two months without having him on you had you mewling into the air. “Please baby, don’t stop.”

With his tongue occupied, Chris continued to devour you. His tongue alternated between long drags and quick flicks between your folds. You felt the tip of his tongue prod at your opening in a desperate attempt to taste more of you- to feel more of you.

Removing his mouth, he heard you begin to groan in disappointment before it turned into a moan when he spat on your cunt then suctioned his lips around your clit. With one hand holding your stomach down, he used the other to enter your soaking hole with his index and middle fingers.

Chris was gentle with his digits inside of you, dragging his pads alongside your ways, stroking your contracting walls and feeling every ridge. Once he was knuckle deep, he scissored your cunt, basking in the sounds of your squelching around his fingers paired with your content moans of relief.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, using the limb to draw slow, tortuous circles on your mound as he watched you fall into the deep recesses of ecstasy.

He observed your neck stretch back, exposing a slightly bulging vein running up the expanse. The way your lips quivered as your moans flew freely out. Your legs began to shake when he hit the spot he was all too familiar with deep in your core.

“Look at me,” Chris demanded, his Boston accent evident in his request, “Need’a watch my pretty girl cum all over my fingers.”

The eye contact with the brunette was intense, more fierce than ever experienced before, but you reveled in every second of it. You noticed how his pupils had become blown out, only showing a small ring of blue surrounding the black.

You tried to keep the gaze locked until you felt your orgasm come full force through your body like a tidal wave. “Christopher!”

Upon hearing your screech of desire and feeling your essence begin to soak his digits, he replaced his thumb back with his mouth, longing to taste every single drop of your sweetness. His fingers continued to pump inside of you, prolonging your release and causing more of your juices to flow into and around his mouth.

Chris finally removed his fingers to drink more of you until you attempted to feebly push his head away, the orgasm causing you to lose most of your strength.

“Sorry princess, you know Daddy just can't get enough of you,” Chris moaned as he licked your essence off his lips.

He rose up your lower half and hovered over you staring down at your exhausted self. You mustered the power to raise your arms and grasp his face in your hands before bringing him down to connect lips once more.

The kisses were lecherous, the both of you yearning to taste every single part of the other. Your tongue was firm against his as he massaged yours while you swallowed each other's moans.

Your body felt on fire with the way his large hands were massaging and caressing every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers digging into your softness and pulling you flush against his frame.

Taking your hands away from his face, you began to unbutton his dress shirt, peeling away the material until it unveiled his tattooed chest. Your fingers tracing the large design on his chest before making its way down to his belt, unbuckling it in the process.

Dragging the leather through the loops and away from his body, you unzipped his trousers before reaching in to palm his obvious erection. The action made the man above you keen against your tongue. “I wanna taste you Chris.”

With your thighs around his hips, you nudged him until your positions were switched. His head against the same pillow, he watched as you tugged down the material on his lower half, leaving the two of you completely bare for one another.

You laid down on your stomach between his legs before grabbing hold onto the base of his cock, drawing a hiss from Chris.

His head craned back at the feel of your wet mouth tonguing his length, the wet muscle licking a stripe from the base to his tip. “Ohh- that's it baby.”

You collected your spit before it dripped from your mouth and on his head, the liquid cascading down the massive length. Using it for your advantage, you began to stroke him while attaching your lips around his tip. Your tongue flicked his slit while drinking up his precum.

“God, I love you so much (Y/N).”

Removing one of your hands, you began to swallow his length, stroking off what you couldn’t take down. His moans and groans only stir you on as you bask in the feel of him throbbing in your mouth. With your free hand, you began to palm at his balls; the action making him grip the sheets as well as tenderly holding the side of your head.

His mouth was parted, showing only his tongue, as he panted out. “That’s it baby, such a good girl for me.”

Chris felt his peak slowly approaching, the buildup steadily growing with every swipe of your tongue, suction from your lips and tug at his balls. Though he would’ve loved to release down your throat and watch your mouth milk his balls, he wanted- needed to feel your warmth surrounding him as he coated your walls.

He went to unlatch you from his cock and raise you towards him. “I need to feel you,” he breathed out, “I miss the feel of you around me (Y/N).”

You crawled up his body til you were straddling his hips. Reaching down, you pumped his length a few times before positioning it for entry. The second you began the descent and his head met the resistance from your cunt, you both groaned out.

Chris couldn’t wait any longer so he brought his hands to your hips and fully sank you down on him, sheathing his entire cock inside of you. The action made you lurch forward with your hands planting themselves on his chest in search of stability.

“Oh that’s it princess,” professed Chris, “Missed this tight fucking cunt choking my cock. Missed you so goddamn much.”

With the help of his hands on your hips, you began to slowly work yourself on his dick. Every rise and fall of your hips made you experience the delectable feel of his veined shaft drag against your channel.

“Oh Christopher,” you cooed as you felt him throb inside of you.

“That’s it princess, I’m right here.”

You brought your hands from off of him and covered his large ones. Removing them from your body, you intertwined digits. The new position of your hands allowed the newly added engagement ring to gleam under the light.

If he had a camera, he would’ve wanted to capture the beauty of you in that moment. Every buck of your hips caused your breasts to bounce, the action enticing him even more than already. The sweat that began to form on your body caused your body to shine from the bedroom lights, making your body appear as if it were glowing.

He wanted to frame the glorious sight of you, but he decided to settle with the fact of knowing he would be able to recreate this exact moment for the rest of his life. Recreate with you as husband and wife.

He rose up from the mattress and maneuvered your legs to wrap around his waist before sitting on his haunches. The new position of your naked chest pressed up against his own while he fucked you on his cock was a sort of intimacy that couldn’t be explained.

The closeness of your faces allowed you to feel each other’s breaths warm your features. You could see pupils being blown, feel the sweat dripping off one another, and hear every single sound that escaped the other's mouth.

Attaching his lips to yours, Chris moaned into your mouth. “That’s it baby, cream all around my cock. Milk me til I fill you up with my cum.”

The heels of your feet dug into his lower back and your fingertips gripped onto his neck, leaving scratches in its wake.

You knew for certain that you would have bruises on your waist with the way he had latched onto you, raising you up and down his length.

With every thrust, your sweaty skin slapped together as his balls spanked up against your ass.

“Ahh baby, I- fuck Chris I’m almost there.”

“I know (Y/N), I’m right behind you.”

A few more harsh thrusts as his tip slammed against your g-spot and you were suddenly slammed into the blissful abyss of your orgasm. The tightness of your contracting walls caused Chris to achieve his own release. The shouting sounds of you two reaching your respective peaks echoed throughout the room.

Warmth flooded your body and your cunt as you felt Chris’s cock shoot ribbons of his seed deep into you. He continued to drag you along his length, hoping to prolong the glorious feeling of your pussy throbbing around him.

After the sensation of your peak began to wane, he fell back against the mattress, bringing you down with him.

The two of you laid there in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth radiating off the other.

Chris strokes your back, long traces of his thumb running along your spine as you both regain your breath.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N). So goddamn much.”

Still a little too spent, you nodded while your hands toyed around with his chest.

While you two sat there, a realization popped into the brunette's head, making him begin to stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his ass jiggle with every step out of the room, the sight making you chuckle. When he returned, he held his phone in his hand.

“Seriously Christopher, you wanna make a sex tape right now?”

A boisterous laughter left him at your assumption, “No sweetheart, not that.”

Chris sat back next to you on the bed as he scrolled through his phone gallery. After a few flicks on his thumb, he finally found the photo that you two took on your first date. You were as beautiful as ever, smiling at the camera as he looked in awe at you.

You watched as he loaded up Instagram and clicked on the plus sign to create a new post. “Chris, what are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Choosing the desired photo, he went to begin typing out his caption that would unveil you to the world.

chrisevans: A little over a year ago this photo was taken on our first date. I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, that’s why I eagerly asked you to be mine. (Y/N) you make me the happiest man that I could be. I know this past year and a half has been a tough one, especially with everyone in the world claiming that they were dating me while I kept you in the shadows, but enough is enough. There’s no one else that I would rather be with. There’s no one in this entire world that holds a candle to you. To your beauty, your kindness, your everything. You are the love of my life. As of tonight, my fiancé. And soon to be my wife. I love you more than words can describe princess. (Y/@/N)

Chris finished typing out his message before looking down at you, silently asking for approval. He watched as your index finger raised up and clicked on the share button, indicating the end of your secrecy.

A dopey smile made his face before he looked at you, phone in hand, “Now, about that sex tape.”

You laughed at his joke as he made his way to kiss you once more. The embrace was full of contentment due to knowing that things were back to normal with a growing relationship full of unwavering love, reinstated trust, and pure happiness.

A/N: and that's a wrap folks. thank you to everyone who read this series.

also i would like to say that this is in no way an indication of chris evans personality or character. this is just fiction.

if you enjoyed this, please make sure to reblog and comment. feedback is much appreciated !

* divider credits : @firefly-graphics *

[enhypia]

JS ; exes

exes answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: park jongseong x gn!reader

genre: angst, mild fluff

words: roughly 1.7k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - jay speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold - both reader and jay speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing, neglect, breaking up

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello, i'm (y/n)

and i'm jay

we're (awkward eye contact)

uhh we're exes

[you guys were invited here today as exes for a fun little drinking game, you guys were aware of that right?]

yes

yup

*interviewer shuffles awkwardly

sorry it's just, our friends were the ones who signed up for us

yeah, we just found out about it three days ago

[but are you guys still okay with doing this?]

we're okay

just give us a few minutes to get used to environment

*(y/n) chuckles

[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. are you guys ready? should we start?]

*jay nods

ready as i'll ever be

[how long were you guys together?]

we were together for almost 3 years

[how long have you guys been broken up?]

about a year and a half now

[who broke up with who?]

i did they did

[why did you break up with him?]

so this was all a year and a half ago okay? no coming for jay, he's grown, we've grown

thanks?

you're welcome

*jay laughs

uhh.. it just really reached a point where i felt neglected in a way? and it was just tiring? i kept thinking 'do i deserve this treatment?' and i hated that i was doubting everything, including his feelings. so i just said let's talk about it and then yeah we split up

*jay drinks and (y/n) laughs

sorry sorry

nah i just needed that

[okay, how about we officially start the q&a portion between the of you now?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, jay wins

*he picks up a card and facepalms after seeing the question

goddamn

should i be scared?

not sure, but you might opt to drink though

[do you blame me for what happened to us?]

oh my god *(y/n) laughs

i know right

so we're unpacking emotions today? okay noted

you can just drink if you're not comfortable with it

i'll drink but i'll still answer, might ease your mind no?

*jay couldn't stop his head from nodding

*(y/n) drinks

i admit that i blamed you at first, but then i got to thinking that it wasn't just you, i was also at fault too since i never really vocalized what i felt? i just let it build up until it reached the point where you couldn't do anything about it anymore, and i couldn't too.

yeah but it's more of my fault since i felt something was wrong but i just brushed it off, i brushed you off.

....

shot?

*jay smiles slightly and both raised their glasses to cheers before drinking

we were both at fault and i don't blame you, jay. i hope you stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) smiles softly then picks up a card to stop any reply they might get from jay

god why are these questions so heavy? it wasn't like this from other episodes

*jay and crew laugh

okay, hit me

[what's your biggest regret about our relationship?]

what the fuck

SEE ?!

*both laugh and jay drinks

okay, next question

no, i'm answering

[we won't stop you but just reminding you both that it's okay not to answer if you drink]

the alcohol releases the unhinged-ness

in other words, this is really just us using the alcohol to actually say what we feel

i think you already the answer, and it's that i didn't do anything about us even if i felt something was wrong. i just kept on focusing on my career that i reached a point where i brushed everything off as nothing. and in the end, while i got the success i wanted, somehow i also feel like i'm on the losing end really.

*(y/n) drinks making jay laugh

what? it's my first time hearing all this !

it was a rough break so

omg is this our closure ???

*jay's eyes widened

and it's filmed ?!?!

*everyone laughs

couple goals *(y/n) does a hashtag

oh wait *(y/n) looks at jay

exes goals *both do a hashtag pose

*they laugh, ignoring the sting in their hearts

okay, okay moving on

*jay laughs again

is it a heavy one again?

nope

[do your friends hate me?]

*(y/n) bursts out laughing

please 😭

we have the same friends

we share a lot of mutual friends

that's why there was like tension for a month in the friend group because no one knew what to do

i'm sorry you had to endure all that friends

remember when they literally made an organized schedule to hang out where we wouldn't see each since the break up was still fresh?

yeah like i got heeseung on tuesdays

and i got him on thursdays

😭😭😭

we love them though, they did their best to console us both

thanks guys <33

*(y/n) picks up a card

goddammit

[do you think we could've actually worked out our problems?]

i think it's unfair that i get a lot of heavy questions

i have the power of god and anime on my side today

i think we could've, if i just had taken the actual time to reflect and sit down and talk, we could've worked it out.

*(y/n) slaps jay's arm

i told you, stop blaming yourself

k

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

*jay picks up a card and

oh

what?

*he is stuttering guys, he is fidgeting

[do you wish we were still together?]

oh

yeah

.....

*both drink

i mean-

*jay has been paralyzed, he did not expect (y/n) to answer

i'm happy where i am right now, maybe there are moments of weakness that the thought crosses my mind but i don't dwell on it too much. i think we're both still learning and growing.

*jay doesn't want to think about the fact that (y/n) never said a clear yes or no

*(y/n) picks up a card and groans

please just drink to this

why?

[what do you think of me now?]

....

drink.

no?

why?

because-

why?

i'm answering

why?

i want to?

no.

right now i'm just really proud of you.

*WORLD PAUSE, (y/n) is malfunctioning

it's a little sad that i didn't get to witness a lot of it but i promise i watched from afar and i'm so proud of you. like it makes me feel lighter in a way? knowing that you're still going and pursuing your dreams. it just made me at ease that -

*(y/n) drinks, looking very much like snow white's apples

are you blushing?

jay i will kick you

*he laughs and pinches (y/n) cheeks making them redder, (y/n) slaps his hands away

i won't hesitate bitch

how about you huh?

[what do you think of me now?]

*jay you should know not to tease too much or else it'll bite you back

i think you're absolutely amazing.

*jay could only blame himself

i am in constant awe and there's this pride that i have in me whenever i see you thriving. it's weird because i thought i'd be bitter about it, but since i knew of your goals and how passionate you were, all i felt was pride. it did hurt a little that i couldn't go "that's my baby!" anymore.

*alert! jay's ears are red and it's spreading to his cheeks and neck

okay next question!

*he quickly picks up a card making (y/n) burst out laughing

everything i said was true though.

hajima. stop. pause. i'm not listening

*(y/n) laughs at flustered jay

this is the last one.

[question for both: if you could tell me anything, what would you say?]

sheesh

same

rock paper scissors? loser goes first

*jay wins

*(y/n) drinks

can you turn around for this one, like don't look at me.

*jay followed

i want to say that,,,, that it's not your fault for putting your future first. it kind of stung since you made me feel like i wasn't a part of it but i know that wasn't your intention. i understand your actions and i don't blame you. if i was in your position i probably would've been the same. i'm sorry that i didn't try harder, like you said we could've made it work but i just got so tired, i hope you can forgive me for that as well.

okay i'm turning around as well, your turn

*(y/n)'s eyes are glassy, but jay doesn't need to see that

i want to say that i'm sorry for neglecting you. i feel like you're tired of me saying sorry but that's really all i could do. i forgive you by the way even if i don't get why you're apologizing to me. i also want to say that, it wasn't you. it sounds cliche but you weren't the reason i became like that, it was me. it was never you. so please don't blame yourself for anything. please don't question your worth because you were more than enough.

yah i didn't want to unpack that

well i still know you and i was given the chance to say it now so

*(y/n) turns around wiping tears, jay is sniffling

i need a drink damn

*(y/n) pours a shot and jay as well, both drink after clinking their glasses

[you guys good?]

*both looks at each other and chuckles

we're good

i can't believe we have to thank our friends for setting this up

*jay groans

[care to answer one last question that is in everyone's minds' right now?]

oh god

is it what i think it is

[will we see you guys be featured again? maybe exes to couples again?]

let's drink!

*both take one last shot and waves to the camera

*(y/n) shrugs and jay winks

bye~

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments (peep last one)

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

a/n: i was planning to post this sooner but my pharma prof suddenly dropped a 6-page activity lmao rip, im scheduling the timestamps i forgot to post last update sorry sorry. my angst skills are subpar forgive me but i tried my best. i hope you like this one too !! jake's will be uploaded next ! please look forward to it <33

[domesticblisss]

Like No Other

Ricky Starks x Female Reader

Rating: Mature (Minors DNI)

Word Count: 1249

Warnings: Smut, angst and fluff. Cheating, bad romantic relationship, cursing and some misogyny.

Summary: Reader's relationship isn't the best and she finds someone that makes her forget.

Inspired by Warpaint's "Stevie"

A/N: Hey everyone! I love Ricky but this is my first time writing him, I hope it came out good! And please, please, please, read it while listening to the song, it totally sets the vibe.

She knew this was wrong. And so did he.

This wasn’t the first, second or third time. As a matter of fact, they had lost count of how many times this had happened. 

The first time happened after a petty fight with Adam, her boyfriend. It was on a night out with basically everyone from work. Wrestlers and the backstage crew had decided to go to the town’s hyped up bar to celebrate another successful Dynamite episode. She sat between him and Matt when he had made a comment about how she looked that night.

That wasn’t the first, second or third time. As a matter of fact, she had lost count of how many times Cole had said something about her appearance. She had always kept quiet, taken it as a joke and dismissed it, even though it hurt her. It always did. It was after a girls night, after a long conversation with Ruby that she finally decided to stand up for herself. 

“If how I look bothers you so much, then why are you still with me?”

Adam stopped laughing. “Why are you being such a bitch tonight?”

Cole didn’t wait for an answer, he got up, gulped the rest of his beer and slammed the glass on the table, announcing his departure. The Bucks followed him, and she could hear Nick whispering “what a cunt” to Adam. Kyle and Bobby were a bit more compassionate, they apologised for their friend's behaviour, saying he hadn’t meant it, to which she responded “I know he did.”, to which they apologised again and followed behind Adam. 

Ricky saw everything from the counter, pissed. He can’t say he was friends with her before, they had talked a couple of times, she had always been friendly towards him, and was a hit between the backstage crew, never denying a helping hand when needed. 

He never understood what she was doing with Adam. 

“Go.” Will said, nodding towards her. Will knew how Ricky felt and saw his friend’s reaction with the fight.

Before Ricky could protest, Will interrupted him. “Just go, dude. Talk to her, she looks like she needs a friendly shoulder.”

She, in fact, needed to talk. And as much as she tried not to not talk Ricky’s ears off, she did. He was sweet, understanding, non judgemental and made her laugh. 

They didn’t mean it, but that night ended up with them having sex in the women’s bathroom. 

She still gets goosebumps whenever she remembers how his hand felt around her neck. 

The second time happened after one of the many times Adam and her broke up. It happened at least once a month, over whatever stupid thing had bothered Adam that moment. 

She knew it was wrong, but the urge to call Ricky was bigger. 

They had exchanged numbers after the first encounter, but their interactions happened exclusively at work. 

She texted him for the first time, asking him where he was. It shocked him a bit, but he answered, saying he was just out of the hotel’s gym, asking her to meet him in ten, the biggest ten minutes of her life. 

He lived up to his nickname just like that first night. 

The third time happened because they wanted, and so did the others. 

Today happened because she had been away. Four months to be exact.

She took Kris’ alien status, coming back from a torn ACL injury in just four months was an out of this world feature. Adam, being Adam, did the whole happy and concerned boyfriend act, praising and saying sweet things to her in front of all of their friends. She smiled, but inside she just wanted to run to Ricky’s arm. 

Speaking of Ricky, it was like he read her mind. Her phone buzzed on her back pocket, she knew it was him the moment she took her eyes away from Shida and crossed the room, landing on his and his lopsided smile. 

The message read “Room 1206”. 

Adam left with the Bucks to do something that she didn’t pay attention to what he had said, her mind racing thinking about her little secret. 

The elevator ride made her anxious, she was finally seeing Ricky again. Ricky and her had kept in touch, daily texts and the occasional facetime sex call when Adam wasn’t home. 

She knocked on Ricky’s door as fast as she had left the elevator. He didn’t say hi, his lips were on hers as soon as he opened the door. 

Ricky closed the door with his foot, pressing her against it, making sure the doorknob wasn’t bothering her. 

Breathing could wait. 

His hands were everywhere, he missed how her skin would prickle when he caressed the curve of her ass, he missed how her nipples would perk when he brushed his fingertips over them, he missed the moan he elicited from her when he pressed his erection on her clothed core. 

The need for air finally came and they separated. Silently, he pressed a peck on her lips, took her hand and led her to bed. 

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” he said as she sat down.  

“Not as much as I missed you.” she answered. 

She stood on her knees to help Ricky undress. His toned body and his copper skin always mesmerising to her. Kissing him from his navel to his lips, she undid his belt. 

Her hand worked on his hard as a rock cock before leading it to her mouth. She started slow, working the tip of her tongue on the tip of his dick, flat tongue working up his shaft, sucking and increasing the speed until she saw his knees buckle. He groaned when she got up. 

“Sit down.” Her voice was soft, but at the same time demanding. 

Ricky obliged and she wasted no time, aligning his angry cock with her warm core, slowly sinking on it. She rode slowly, just like he did when he wanted to tease her, feeling all of it inside of her. She fastened her pace, and with the help of his skilled fingers on her sensitive clit, they reached their climax together. 

The duo laid down on his bed, her tucked in Ricky’s side as he gently caressed the expanse of her back with the tip of his fingers. 

Silence broke when her phone started buzzing on the floor. 

“Let me get it.” Ricky said, stopping her. He let out a scoff and showed her the screen that read “Adam ❤️”. 

“Fuck.”

Ricky got back to bed, his long arms snaking around her waist, hugging her and pulling her close. “Are you picking it up?”

“Don’t really feel like it.”

“You know,” Ricky held her a little closer and kissed her neck “he’s going to start to get suspicious.” 

“I know.” She nodded and took a deep breath before continuing “I’m thinking of ending it for real now.”

He turned her face around so he could look into her eyes, to show her how serious he was. “I don’t mind being the ‘other guy’, you know I really don’t, but I hate seeing you unhappy as you are with him.”

That made her want to tear up a bit but she held on tight. 

“I love you, Ricky.” She confessed. 

“I love you too, so much.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now come here and show me all this love you got. You’ve been away for too long.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

An Ocean Away - Harry Styles

Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !

a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.7k

masterlist

You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.

Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.

Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.

Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.

Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.

Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…

Y/N: Love you!

Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.

Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.

“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.

“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.

“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.

“Just a few more minutes, alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.

It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.

Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they’ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.

Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.

Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.

You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.

“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”

He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.

“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.

You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.

During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.

One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.

Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.

Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.

And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.

Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.

“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.

“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.

“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”

You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.

He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.

“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.

“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.

“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.

“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.

“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.

“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.

You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.

“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.

“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.

Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.

You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.

“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.

“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.

“Do you… like them?”

“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”

“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.

Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.

“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.

He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.

You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.

“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”

“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.

His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”

“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.

You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.

“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.

He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.

He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.

“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.

“Feeling good, baby?”

“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.

“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”

“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.

He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.

“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”

You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.

He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.

“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”

“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”

“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.

“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.

“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”

“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”

“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”

It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.

As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.

The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.

You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.

You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.

Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.

Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.

One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.

“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.

“Why would it be?”

“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”

“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.

“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.

“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!

“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.

You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.

Harry: You look very pretty today :)

Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?

Harry: Can’t help it.

Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!

Harry: Patience!

 “Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.

“What? Uh, sorry.”

“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.

“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.

“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.

“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.

“Just go without me.”

“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”

“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”

“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”

“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.

“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.

You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.

“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.

“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.

“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.

“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”

“We already talked about this,” he sighs.

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”

“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.

“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.

It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.

“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.

“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.

“Because what?!”

“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.

Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.

“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”

He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.

“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.

“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”

“It does. But we just have to be patient.”

You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.

Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.

As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.

One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.

A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.

“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”

“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.

“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.

“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”

You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.

“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”

“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.

“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”

You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.

“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”

“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”

You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.

“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.

“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.

“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.

“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”

“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.

“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.

“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”

Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.

“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.

“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Because it was bullshit.”

“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.

“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.

“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.

“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”

“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.

“How long?” Nat questions in shock.

“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”

“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”

“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”

“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”

“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”

“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”

“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”

“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.

“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asks.

“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.

“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.

“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.

“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”

“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”

“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”

You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.

“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.

Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.

The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.

At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.

A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.

You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.

When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.

“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.

“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.

“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.

Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.

It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.

“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.

“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.

“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”

You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.

“That’s… wow. London.”

“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.

“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”

“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.

“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.

“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”

“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.

“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.

“And what about everything else?”

“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.

“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.

“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.

“Then what?”

“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”

“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”

“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”

“Why would I say no?”

“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”

“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.

“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”

You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.

“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”

“I just extended my contract, you know that.”

“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.

“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.

“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”

“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”

“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”

“Then come with me!”

“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”

“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.

“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.

“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”

He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.

“So you think we don’t have a chance?”

“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.

Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.

Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.

“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.

“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.

The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.

You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.

Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.

That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.

The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.

Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.

“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.

“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.

“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”

“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.

“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.

“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.

“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.

“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.

Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.

It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.

Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?

Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!

You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.

“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.

“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.

The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.

“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.

“How early?”

“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.

“Alright.”

“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.

It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.

You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.

You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.

It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.

Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.

It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.

You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.

Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.

You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.

Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.

“Harry!”

His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.

“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.

It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.

But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.

“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.

“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”

“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”

“What do you mean?”

“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”

Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.

“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.

“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.

“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”

“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”

“What about after work? When are you getting off?”

“I finish at 5.”

“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”

“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”

“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.

“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.

“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.

“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.

Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.

“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.

“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.

“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”

“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.

“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.

“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.

As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?

You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.

Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.

“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.

You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.

“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”

Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.

The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.

“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.

“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”

Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.

“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.

“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.

His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.

“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.

“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.

You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.

At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.

“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.

“Love what?”

“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”

“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”

You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.

“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.

“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”

“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”

“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”

Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.

He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?

It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.

When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.

“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.

“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.

“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.

“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”

“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”

“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”

“Do you want to?”

“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”

“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[1kook]

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

Summary: Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you. Warnings: emotional constipation, toxic ex, internalized misogyny, jk has bad experiences w/his ex’s dad, one scene where jk throws up, brief episode of panic, mentions of terminal cancer (minor); smut; fingering, praise kink, face fucking, spitting kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex on top of a car im sorry Misc: autoshop owner!jk, businesswoman!oc, slice of life, childhood crushes, friends to lovers, ex gfs, pining, country bumpkin pjm w/crush on oblivious oc, ex-bf kth but it’s not real lol Wc: 19.4k (wow!!!)

the spirit of auto shop jk possessed me n next thing i knew i was 11k into a drabble. if ur curious: the 1975 corvette, car at the end, the tweed suitskirt (not actually chanel ☹️sowwyyy) also: this is the longest fic I've written!!!!! clap for me!!!!! i proofread the first few paragraphs n was like thats enough professionalism for the day

inspired by ain’t no mountain high enough one of my fave songs ever🥺 the title is a lyric from the song bc i love it so much enjoy !!

The garage is mostly dark when you enter, the faint hum of a radio quietly filtering through the stagnant room, its source coming from the back wall, where the only light is. It’s a rolling lamp, shining down an ugly yellow glow onto the figure of one man.

Jungkook’s sitting in that same rolling stool he always is, the metal one that’s rusted beyond repair, the cushion so uncomfortably flat. He’s caught up in whatever paint job he’s been tasked with this time around, a classic muscle car from what looks like the 80’s. He’s humming along to the radio, so caught up in stenciling out his design that he doesn’t notice you creep behind him until you’re very purposefully rattling the tool cart beside him, a teasing “boo!” making him jump.

“Fuck, you scared me,” he gasps, rubs over his chest as if to check if his heart is in fact still there. You grin, brandish your bag of takeout out for him before he can lecture you on the dangers of startling people who work around very complex machinery. Instead, all he says is, “you’re an angel.”

Once you’ve got the food carefully scattered across his work bench, your cherry cola tucked next to a canister of gasoline like that’s the safest practice, Jungkook wastes no time diving into all the details of his project, the 1975 Chevy Corvette behind him. The longer you look at it, the more you feel you’ve seen it somewhere. Probably a car show, you presume.

“Purrs like a kitten,” he sighs dreamily, completely ignoring the way half his toppings slide out from the opposite end of his cheeseburger. You don’t, and you swipe a fallen pickle from his tray before he can catch you.

“A kitten?” You ask, glance over at the car. It’s desperately in need of a paint job, and you only realize this now as you stare at it more in depthly. The niggling feeling that you know this car is still there, but you ignore it in favor of indulging your best friend. “Don’t people usually compare cars to bigger, better cats?”

There’s a taped stencil running alongside the car, a thick stripe followed by a thinner one, and you suppose Jungkook’s trying to spice her up, give her back the same youthfulness she probably had in her prime. What better way to do so than by adding some classic stripes alongside it.

Jungkook hums, gulps down his soda noisily. “Not this one. Never heard an engine as soft as hers.”

You roll your eyes. For a minute, the two of you quietly chew through your burgers, the radio filling in the gaps while you analyze the car. You know this car, but you can’t remember where. Jungkook coughs into his palm, probably from trying to inhale his fries too fast like he does every time you go to the diner you’re eating from today.

The diner.

A mouthful of braces. A pretty waitress. A strict dad.

“Holy shit, this is Sojin’s dad’s car,” you inhale, the memories from high school suddenly hitting you full force. Jungkook chokes, out of surprise this time, and furiously goes to deny your claims. “This is totally his car. The one he tried to run you over with when he caught you trying to put her on the back of your bike.”

“He didn’t try to run me over,” Jungkook whines, and the tips of his ears are red from your revelation.

You glare. “Why are you fixing that asshole’s car for him?” You interrogate, the last quarter of your burger forgotten in favor of squeezing the truth out of him. You’d had enough of that treacherous woman and her equally deranged father causing Jungkook trouble, and to catch him still helping her now, almost ten years later, was enough to make a brain vessel pop.

He shrugs, avoids your eyes as he picks through his fries. The radio is still on, some tune you recognize from those old days at the diner when Jungkook had become so unbelievably smitten with the part timer that served you milkshakes every Wednesday afternoon.

He had been in love with her the moment he saw her, and the look in his eyes was only magnified by those dorky glasses he wore pre-lasik. You'd been his friend long enough, recognized the jump of his scrawny thigh beneath the table. Like a bunny, thumping in excitement at the sight of her.

Sojin was... full of surprises.

She was nothing less than a supermodel, long legs carrying her around the diner as if it was her runway. She was nice too, so you hadn’t originally had an excuse to dislike her. She was nice, and so endeared with your best friend that it was inevitable when they began dating. Her presence consumed the end of your high school careers, overtook the time that should have been yours and Jungkook’s last year before being thrown into adulthood. He decided on studying at a technical school nearby—per your encouragement to save money—while you travelled five hours out for your degree in business. That last year, when you had finally come to terms with your feelings, had been so painfully ripped away by Sojin and her never-ending list of teenage drama, and by Sojin’s dad and his overbearing need to police her and Jungkook every chance he got.

Jungkook still hung out—“Sojin was busy, do you wanna do something?”—but more often than not those hang outs consisted of Jungkook telling you about her and her dad, about how hard he tried to get into his good graces.

The bike incident had only been one of many. Times where Jungkook would put his heart—and life—on the line for that girl only for it to be in vain every time she broke up with him over the simplest things. You’d heard stories from Jungkook, all told with a tight smile, of a handshake that would bruise, a man chasing him with a bat, of a car following him to school. All things he put up with for a girl who didn’t care for him. One day, after Jungkook had grudgingly sat through an hour long dinner with her family, the stare of her father piercing through him, she broke up with him because she didn’t like how long his hair had gotten.

(If anyone were to ask you, he was handsome with long hair. Dreamy even.)

He cut it that same day.

As her childishness grew, you quickly came to dislike her. She strung Jungkook around, you thought, and just when you thought she was finally done toying with him and making his life difficult in the sneakiest ways, the damn kid started hitting the gym. His growing frame, toned arms and now straightened teeth had turned him into a heartthrob, and Sojin was just as aware of this as you were. “Don’t we look perfect together?” She’d ask, twirl around him like they were on the cover of a magazine and not standing on his chipped front porch.  

Needless to say, by the time graduation had rolled around you despised the woman. You absolutely disliked how she treated Jungkook, how she let her father treat Jungkook without ever stepping up and defending him. Granted, you didn’t know exactly what went on in her household behind closed doors, you’d seen enough of her uncaring attitude to want to ram her and her dad’s head against the hood of the car.

Which is why seeing the old car, in Jungkook’s shop nonetheless, was rekindling a boiling hatred in your chest. “That man should rot in hell for all he put you through,” you huff, glare at the car like it holds some magical connection to him and he can feel the intensity of your stare.

“___,” Jungkook scolds, swirls his cup around to distract himself. “He was just trying to protect his only daughter,” he defends, quietly, like it’s what he tells himself to justify all those years of mistreatment. Even when he and Sojin had continued through college, it had never stopped. You, being five hours away, couldn’t do a damn thing. “Besides, the guy’s old as hell now.”

You snort, finally breaking your staring match with the car. Glancing at Jungkook, he’s got that same forlorn expression on his face, the one he started wearing when he first came to terms with the fact that her dad would never like him. There was a time it was stuck permanently on his face, the pressure and the discomfort that came from the father of the girl you’ve dated for five years looking at you like you were nothing more than a speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

When you came back from school, educated and confident, you almost didn’t recognize your best friend. Tall and broad, tattoos splattered over his arm. Hair long like you loved it, but eyes still as round and wondrous as they’d been when you were kids. He had his own place now, he told you, and you vaguely remembered all the times he mentioned him and Sojin moving in together, mentally preparing yourself to see that wench for the first time in a while.

Much to your surprise, there was no Sojin in sight. No lingering artifacts of her presence. Nothing that showed she existed in this space besides an ugly orange mug she’d given him for his birthday one year, tucked into the very back of his cabinets. They’d broken up, he explained. Almost immediately after graduation.

After stringing him along for the better part of five years, she had decided this wasn’t what she wanted. No, what she wanted was a man ten years her senior with an abundance of cash to flow. Jungkook hadn’t cried. Hadn’t even looked the tiniest bit upset when you ordered pizza and drank some beer, watched your favorite episodes of The Simpsons like you were seventeen and avoiding your homework again.

You stayed the night, a little too tipsy to drive home. Besides, Jungkook had a spare bedroom. It was a room beside his, just a full bed with a chest of drawers. You liked it, liked the scent of him surrounding you after only seeing each other for a couple weeks in between months of distance. You liked it, because when he shifted in bed you realized the beds were pressed against the same wall, and you liked it until the shared wall spared you no secrets, and you listened to him quietly sob into his pillow.

“Old or not, he’s still the devil,” you murmur, snapping back to the present where Jungkook is wheeling himself closer to the car again. “Where did you find that thing anyway?”

He stays silent, quietly pretending like he still has something to do on the car besides paint it. Then, “I bumped into Sojin at the store.”

You sigh, drop your head between your shoulders. You can only imagine what whirlwind of a sob story she had to throw on him to win this favor.

“Kook,” you start, gauging his reaction only from his backside. His muscles ripple beneath his dark t-shirt, his usual red jumpsuit knitted around his waist. “What happened?”

Again, silence.

You say nothing, let him sort through the hurt on his own while you creep up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and pressing down on the cricks behind his neck. He melts into your touch, head lolling forwards as a quiet sigh escapes him.

“She told me she was low on cash, and she needed the car to get to work,” he confesses, and from his ducked position, his voice trembles. You roll your eyes.

“And the paint job?”

A particularly rough press of your fingers has a whimper escaping him. God, this boy needed to see a chiropractor and a masseuse soon. All that hunching over and under these cars was doing a number on his back.

“I… I figured I might as well fix up the exterior too.” Of course he would, you think, Jungkook’s heart was stupidly big and easy to manipulate. He would get so swept up in it sometimes, trying to do the best he can for everyone’s benefit that he’d ignore himself.

You sit in his confession, fingers digging into his skin for a few minutes as you consider what to say.

The mature adult in you, the logical half of you, wants to hit him upside the head, scold him for letting that wench into his life again so easily. You were going on twenty-six now, all three of you, and you didn’t have time to be fixing him every time that childish woman decided to toy with him. Granted, it’s been four years since you last saw her, since you heard him muffle his cries on the other side of the wall, and you liked to think Jungkook was a respectful adult of society now. He didn’t have time to get dragged around by self-absorbed women with insane fathers.

The other part, the best friend since childhood, wants to run away. Wants to pack Jungkook into a suitcase and take him far away from here and from her. Unlike you, who now lived in the city, Jungkook had stayed in your small hometown, a quiet place just outside the bustling city. It was difficult to ensure his happiness when you were always forty-five minutes out of reach. It would be so much easier to just take him and fly to another province, maybe on the beach, Jungkook loved the beach.

“Listen,” he says, successfully pulling you out from your spiral. “I know what you’re gonna say and I just wanna tell you it’s not like that.”

You blink, hands stilling on his shoulders. Your lack of movement allows him to spin around on his chair, gaze up at you with the same shiny gaze he’s given you ever since you were kids. “I’m just doing her this tiny favor. She looked...” he trails off, face scrunching to find the words.

“Like shit?” You propose, and he smiles. “Like flaming dumpster shit behind a club?”

Jungkook laughs, loud and beautiful. You want to kiss the mole beneath his lip.

“She looked bad, okay?” He settles, reaches forward to take your palm in his. You’re standing between his thighs, and you wonder how he would have acted if you were Sojin. “Don’t think things worked out with that CEO she was dating. I’m just giving her a push.”

You sigh, try to push those crestfallen sobs to the back of your head. “Okay,” you agree, briefly glancing back at the damn car. “You fix her car, and that’s it,” you state. Jungkook nods, makes a little X over his heart. He knows how much you hate that woman. “No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he agrees, then reaches down for a white spray can. “You wanna spray some dicks on it before I paint it?”

“Please,” you laugh, taking the face mask he offers you with a grin.

—

One day your car starts making a weird noise as you pull out of the underground parking garage of your building. It’s somewhere between a pig squealing and metal scraping. You’ve been around Jungkook long enough to know this is probably something to do with your breaks, something about them being loose or old, one of the two. You have a short day at work today. There’s repairs being done to the office you work at, so everyone’s been spending more time working from home.

You leave work a little after two pm, head pounding from the hour long meeting you sat through, the mediocre business proposals your boss had asked you to look through and file. There’s a hefty load of emails waiting in your inbox, mostly the interns requesting you write them a recommendation letter. You’ll have to look through those later, pick out the good ones and write them each a unique piece kissing the ground they walk on.

The scent of freshly fried donuts hits your nose as you pull into your old town; the bakery down the road from Jungkook’s has their windows open. You can already taste the sweetness on the tip of your tongue, the iced coffee cooling your insides as you sit and watch Jungkook work on your car.

Jungkook’s shop is on the corner of the street, takes up a huge chunk with it’s massive garage and driveway; the office area is tiny compared to the sheer size of the actual work floor. There’s music blaring through the overhead speakers, and when you pull in you recognize it as Jimin’s playlist.

“Morning, Miss,” the country bumpkin says, leaning against your car door as you rifle through your purse. “What’re you in for?”

“Hi, Jimin,” you reply sweetly, take his hand as he helps you out the door. You very vaguely explain the noise your car had made that morning, glancing around the shop as Jimin gets to work inspecting it. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin’s waving over some other employees, all greeting you in their matching red jumpsuits. “Kook’s in the office,” he tells you, and it’s almost sensual the way his hand glides over your palm for your keys. God, you needed to get laid. “Has some lady friend in there with him.”

You pause, the bustling of the crew behind you fading into the background. Something inside you snaps, and you whirl around the garage, before catching sight of a 1975 Chevy Corvette, almost unrecognizable from how you’d last seen it. It’s bright red now, a color you only briefly saw before you’d left the other night, with two, lightning bolt racing stripes decorating each side. It looks new, almost in mint condition, and the fact it’s still here has you storming through the garage.

Your heels clack loudly, the crew moving to the side as you torpedo straight into the offices. You barely remember to greet the receptionist before you’re stomping straight into the main office.

There’s no knock, no warning given, before you’re flinging the door open, seeing exactly what you’d expected. 

“___,” Jungkook stutters, jumping onto his feet from his position on the couch. He looks frantic, wide eyes flickering between you and the woman sitting in front of him, her back turned to you. But you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“Did you say ___?” She says, and she’s still as tall and as beautiful as you remember her. Had it not been for the heels you wore, you don’t doubt she’d tower over you. She flashes you a killer smile, lips carefully painted red. It almost looks murderous. “My! ___, you haven’t changed a bit,” Sojin exclaims, rushing around the couch to pull you into a tight hug. You don’t return it.

You let her cling to you for a second, before pushing her away as gently as you can by the shoulders. As much as you’d like to rip her in half, tear her apart for all she did to Jungkook, you won’t. You’re older now, elegant in all the ways you weren’t before. It would be a huge disservice to your maturity if you shoved your heel up her ass right now.

“It’s lovely seeing you, Sojin,” you smile, taking her hand in yours.

Besides, being a woman in business meant you knew better, more creative ways to strike.

“And your boyfriend?” You ask, tilting your head in staged confusion. You even glance around the office, like you’ll find the geezer hiding behind the potted plant or Jungkook’s frozen figure. “The rich one with the huge company? Did he come with you today?”

Her smile tightens, red lips pursed as she gauges you with those cat eyes that haunt your nightmares every now and then. “My ex-boyfriend,” she corrects after a minute, pastes a forlorn expression onto her features. “We’ve separated, and you know how it is for women like us,” she jests. “We need a man to push us along—“

“Do we?” You ask, think back on all those years of school, of studying and working and pushing yourself, all the time you spent investing in yourself for yourself. “I don’t think so,” you contemplate. “It’s really embarrassing if you can’t care for yourself without the help of a man. Almost like you don’t trust in your own abilities, and ride other’s coattails instead.”

A beat of silence. Two completely different worlds, and Jungkook hovering awkwardly beside you.

Two palms grasp your shoulders from behind, and when you turn Jungkook is smiling at you, forced and stressed like he can’t stand to be in this uncomfortable situation any longer. “Well,” he announces, pushing you behind him as he guides Sojin towards the door. “There was an issue with her car, so I’ll just check on it real quick, okay?”

You nod, feel empty as he takes her by the wrist, and not you. He hands her her purse, palm on the small of her back as they exit the office. When the door clicks shut behind them, you throw your own handbag at the ground, barely stop yourself from stomping like a child.

Instead, you breathe in, hold it, and exhale, just like your Tuesday yoga instructor taught you. By the time you’ve collected yourself a few minutes have passed, so you kneel down to gather your fallen lipstick tubes and cellphone from the floor, scooping them back into your purse.

Tugging the door shut behind you, you mindlessly wander down the hall, until you reach the small receptionist area and nearly get jumped by Kim Taehyung. “Holy shit, you won’t believe this,” he gasps, takes you by the shoulders and nearly shakes you until your brain falls out through your ears. You would have slapped him, had this been any other man, but he’s quite possibly the only man besides Jungkook you’d let jostle you like this. “You’ll never guess who just left the office with J—wait,” he pales, suddenly connecting two and two, your exit from said offices definitely a key factor in whatever conclusion he’s drawn. “You were in the office with Hwang Sojin and you didn’t kill her?!”

You huff, let him shake you again until you’re nearly tripping in your heels. “Yes, I know,” you groan, finally slap his hands away when you begin to feel this morning’s breakfast bubbling from all the motion. “I’m surprised too.”

“Wow,” Taehyung marvels, leans back against the receptionist desk even though the poor girl has told him time and time again not to. He ignores her, something he can do as second best friend to the boss. “Remember when she showed up crying outside his mom’s house and you threw a potted plant at her? Oh how the great have fallen.”

Rolling your eyes, you drift over to the plexiglass window in the office that looks out across the entirety of the garage floor. In the corner, Jungkook’s got the hood of the Corvette open as he works away on something, Sojin tapping at her phone beside him. “Why are you here, Tae?”

He steps beside you, tuned into the same scene. “Can’t visit my ex-girlfriend every now and then?” He teases, you groan.

“We dated for three days, dude, let it go,” you whine, and watch with rapt attention as Jungkook motions for her to start the engine. She does, and it purrs to life, soft and silky just like Jungkook said it does. She squeals and claps, launches herself into his arms in thanks. You look away.

“Yuck,” Taehyung gags and you couldn’t agree more. “Can’t believe you ended the best 72 hours of my life for that pinhead and the hussy attached to his hip.”

He shrieks when you pinch his side, and you take great satisfaction in the judgemental stare half the crew sends him through the glass. After all, they weren’t soundproof. “You embarrassed me and my brand,” he huffs, crossing his arms as the two of you return to watching Jungkook and the hussy.

“He’s not a pinhead,” you softly retort, watch him wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead as he waves her off. Sojin sends him a brigade of air kisses, none of which he catches. A sick sense of glee consumes you at the sight, but then he’s turning to stare directly at you and Taehyung through the glass, and the both of you quickly whirl away.

“His ability to find you in less than a second is so weird,” Taehyung shivers, and you ignore it, taking the candy from the bowl on the receptionist desk. She doesn’t care, having heard these conversations more than enough times to get the general gist of what you and Taehyung gossip about. You’re surprised she’s never mentioned it to Jungkook before.

Regardless, you listen to Taehyung complain about his life for a few more minutes, before Jimin’s sweet voice pops into the room. His ash blonde hair is all ruffled, and there’s something dark smeared over his otherwise perfect skin as he tells you your car is fixed. Taehyung bids you goodbye, and Jimin walks you back to your car out on the garage floor.

“All set, miss,” Jimin grins, puts a hand against the car so you don’t hit your head as you go in. You thank him, and don’t miss the way he lingers by your window.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, tilt your head quizzically. Jimin’s cheeks flush, and he looks shyly at the ground.

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

“___,” Jungkook calls, jogging over beside Jimin, who looks almost ashamed to be caught doing...whatever it was he was gonna do. Jungkook glances at him, catches him in some weird staring contest before crouching down to your window. “You needed your car fixed? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blink, don’t know how to politely tell him he was too busy kissing the ass of his toxic ex-girlfriend to help you out. “Jimin helped me,” you smile, the same practiced expression you’ve mastered since college. You usually get by, usually trick people with that look, but not with him. Jungkook knows you too well, knows that look, and knows you’re holding yourself back. “You were busy.”

His lips part in surprise, tugged downwards with the hint of a frown. “I,” he stutters, looks at Jimin, who doesn’t seem that impressed with him either. “I… I would’ve came if you called.”

You tug your sunglasses out from their little case, slide them over the bridge of your nose as you strap your seatbelt over yourself. “Would you though?” You ask, flash him another polite smile before shifting your car’s gears. Jimin walks off, clears the path for you to exit, and with just Jungkook standing there, you speak freely. “I would hate to distract you from something important.”

—

Some of the proposals end up being better than expected, and after carefully sifting through them, your boss asks you to sit through presentations for the next few days. Your time gets consumed in graphs and budgets. There’s a multitude of businesses you have to look into, some big and well-known, and others small and local. You drive around the city one day, visiting business after business, until your ankles hurt in your heels and your cheeks hurt from all the smiling. Your only comfort is the nice Chanel skirt suit you’re wearing that makes you feel like the most important person in the room wherever you go.

By the time the week’s over, there’s a thin cut forming on the back of your ankles from all the walking you’ve done in your heels. You slump against your front door, tossing your heels in the vague direction of the closet before padding through your house.

You nearly scream yourself sore at the figure in your kitchen, hunched over what looks to be a hastily made cake with a number three candle. “Oh my god,” you seethe, turning the overhead light on to illuminate Jungkook’s grinning figure, dirty and sweaty from work. You glance at the clock on the stove; it’s only been about an hour since his garage closed.

“Surprise!” He exclaims, and you’re not the slightest bit amused when he begins humming the happy birthday song on a day that is definitely not your birthday.

When he’s done, you don’t clap and his beaming smile doesn’t waver. “It is not my birthday,” you calmly state, placing your leather padfolio on the counter.

Jungkook blows the candle out for you. “It’s the birthday of when we first met,” he explains, and gets to cutting the cake. How he remembers such a day, you don’t know. You do know that this is his mom’s birthday cake recipe, and you love that. “Can you believe it? Friends for almost three decades.”

“Almost,” you repeat, dutifully sitting across from him and taking the plate he offers. He nods at you like a bobblehead. 

His eyes are sparkly and big, like he’s drunk, and it’s only then you notice the red wine on the table, bottle open and halfway done. You set your fork down, grasp the neck of the bottle in your hand. “Have you been drinking?” You ask, even though the answer stares you right in the face. You frown. “You hate drinking.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shovels more cake into his mouth to delay his response. “Needed it,” he offhandedly explains, nearly eats the candle but you jump forward to snatch it off his fork before he can.

“What do you mean?” You inquire. You’re not hungry anymore, too interested in whatever’s going on in his head to make him think he needs to be drunk around you.

Jungkook gulps, reaches forward for more wine but you cradle the bottle to your chest. You nearly gasp when he levels you with a real, stony glare, the expression out of place on his face. “Cuz you’re mad,” he huffs. “At me.”

There was a time you would coddle Jungkook’s every mistake, never let him think he was at fault for anything. You’d grown out of it shortly before high school, recognizing boys were stupid no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Since then, you’ve watched him get into trouble time and time again—Sojin being the prime example—and only intervened when absolutely necessary. Some part of you, the half that hates seeing him upset, wants to tell him you’re not. The mature part in you, however, doesn’t let that happen.

“I am,” you agree, watch his eyes widen almost comically at your admission. You set the wine bottle back on the table, leaning your chin on your palm as you level him with the most unimpressed gaze you can. “I’m furious, actually.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a kicked puppy, and you can almost see the metaphorical ears pressed against his head and the tail tucked between his legs. His lips are big and pouty, stained from the wine. You’d love to know what they feel like.

Jungkook’s vulnerability lasts all of three seconds, before he’s shaking himself out of whatever emotional pit his foggy brain has him in. “Well, it’s dumb,” he spits, and it’s your turn to sit in shock. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulously, because this has never happened before. Are you overprotective and sometimes overbearing? Sure. Has Jungkook ever voiced discomfort with that before? Never. “I’m not telling you what to do,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes, pushes away from the table like a moody teen. You know it’s because he’s drunk, because he’s not himself, but you have to remind yourself that he obviously felt this way somewhere in his heart to voice it to you now. “You’re not my mom.”

You choke. “I’m not!” You angrily agree, pushing away from the table as well.

Jungkook snarls, “well you sure do love acting like her.” He picks up his plate, glances over at you with a look in his eyes that can only be likened to that of a sneaky cat, and then purposefully shoves the bread and frosting down the garbage disposal in the sink. You shriek, fly around the table and shove him away.

“What is wrong with you?” You seethe, push him away rudely with a hand on his face. Jungkook stumbles back, slips on the floor and nearly cracks his head on the corner of the counter. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, abandoning the sink in favor of watching the way his face twists up at the sudden motion, stomach contracting beneath his black t-shirt, cheeks puffing. “Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, tugging him to his feet with the strength only a panicked individual about to see an entire cake regurgitated onto their kitchen tile can have.

You’ve barely kicked the door to the bathroom open when Jungkook begins throwing up, gooey vomit spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. It touches your arm, and you shriek before shoving him in the general direction of the toilet.

“Ew, ew,” you freak, shoving your hand under the sink faucet to get that gross feeling away. You wanna vomit yourself, but you tell yourself there can only be one sick person at a time, and right now it’s Jungkook.

He’s got his head in the toilet, disgusting sounds echoing off the ceramic of it. By the time you’ve calmed down and washed your arm thrice, you move over to pull his bangs away from his face, letting him hurl in peace.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, spews another round of birthday cake into the toilet.

You look away, blindly reach out to turn the bathroom fan on. “Mhm,” you nod, rubbing a hand over his back. Jungkook nods sadly against the toilet seat.

“‘M sorry,” he repeats, gags around nothing but the gross feeling left in his throat. “I-I know you just want…” a pause as he considers throwing up some more, “...want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” you agree, wipe a hand down the side of his face that he leans into. “Not trying to be your mom,” you assure him, and he snorts.

“Be a good mom,” he murmurs, so soft you don’t hear him. You hum, leaning closer and he repeats it. “You’d be… a good mom.”

Not knowing what to do with that information, you just pat his back until he falls asleep, cheek against the toilet seat.

—

“Woah, the sexual tension in this garage is off the charts,” Taehyung blurts from behind you, and you smack your clipboard against his chest. “Oof,” he grunts, rubbing his chest like it actually hurt. “You doing finances for him again?” He asks and you nod.

In an ideal world, Taehyung would leave upon finding out you’re busy. In this world, he simply leans into your personal space, nearly knocking you into an empty tool cart. “Oooh, an extensive list of all the money Jungkook’s stupidly blown this month. How much did he spend on neon signs this time?”

You relent, showing him the shop’s finances. Anywhere else, revealing a business’s finances without the consent of the owner would be a federal crime. Here, it’s the equivalent of showing Taehyung Jungkook’s browser history. “He spent how much on window tint?!”

“A lot,” you say.

There’s a whistle from across the garage, the shop’s resident country bumpkin Park Jimin standing at the huge garage doors with his hand on his hip. “No fraternizing, please.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Boooo,” he shouts, peels himself away from you to flick an impolite finger Jimin’s way. “He’s just jealous,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Of what?” You ask, and Taehyung nearly loses his shit.

“My precious ___,” he sighs, leans his forehead on your shoulder. “So beautiful and smart, yet so slow.” You flick the side of his forehead just as Jungkook strolls by and, seeing your attack, slaps the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Why do you guys hate me!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping at least five feet away from you and Jungkook’s giggling forms.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring Taehyung’s soulful cries as he glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. You tilt it his way, but he stands close anyway, until you can feel his breath huffing against the back of your neck.

“Okay, but you’re spending a lot of money stockpiling on things that haven’t shown signs of running out yet,” you explain, pointing at the window tint that had astonished Taehyung only a moment ago.

Jungkook grimaces, pink tongue swiping across his lip as he looks at the total amount he’s spent the last three months. “Well, it’s a good thing I have my accountant,” he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Not your accountant,” you correct, “just a friend who doesn’t wanna see you run your business to the ground from overspending.”

Jungkook waves you off, and Taehyung tries to sneak into the receptionist office behind you, but Jungkook catches him with his free hand. “This is the life,” he sighs, wistfully gazing over the garage floor. It reeks of motor oil and car paint.

“Count me out,” Taehyung snorts, voicing your disinterest toward such greasy and smelly work. He tries to wiggle out of Jungkook’s hold, but the muscle bunny only straps an arm around his neck, until Taehyung’s squirming and clawing for air against the red sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“My own successful business, a shitload of sexy cars, and of course,” he pauses, squeezes the two of you tighter until you’re both groaning. “My two best friends.” The sap has the gall to peck the top of your heads, and that seems to be the final straw for Taehyung who rips himself away.

“Have this lovefest somewhere else, man,” Taehyung says, flattening his rumpled clothing down. “You’re really putting a nail in my reputation around here.”

Jungkook cackles, mindlessly goes to wrap himself around you from behind. “Your reputation has been trash since that scream you let out the other day,” he informs him, swaying the two of you back and forth. Your heart thunders in your chest, and you just barely manage to avoid Taehyung’s pointed stare.

“Whatever, I’m outta here.” With Taehyung peaced out, you’re left in Jungkook’s arms, gazing over his business like two old lovers. It makes your chest tight, so you quickly go to shake him off.

“We’re okay?” Jungkook murmurs, so soft you almost don’t hear. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb massaging over the bone there like he’s afraid you’ll bolt the second he lets you go.

You nod, tuck the clipboard to your side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Those sad puppy eyes, pouty lips turned southward. You want to wipe that look off his face. He sighs, glances at where your skin meets and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve been an ass lately,” he settles on saying. “Said some mean things and ruined your bathroom rug—I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what to say.

Jungkook takes your silence as understanding, reaching down to hold both your hands in his slightly dirty ones. “It won’t happen again. I’d rather lose a million friends than lose you,” he confesses, and something about it feels too real, too raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You nod, the constricting feeling in your throat only tightening when he smiles at you, those gentle eyes and plush lips for only you to see. You want to kiss him, swallow him whole. Right here on the garage floor so everyone knows he’s yours.

But you can’t because he’s not.

You settle on swinging your arms between you. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, narrowing your eyes playfully. There’s a heavy feeling in your heart, something akin to anguish, but you could never voice it out loud.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

Jungkook visits again on a weekday, and you nearly send him straight home when he brandishes another bottle of wine in your face. “It’s nonalcoholic!” He exclaims before you can shut the door on him, foot lodged against the frame. You give in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, curling up on the couch in just your shorts and huge t-shirt. Jungkook pops the bottle open, pouring the wine into two limited edition Shrek 2 cups you pulled out from the depths of your cabinet.

“Can’t hang with my bestie?” He throws back at you, snatching the remote from your hands before you can click on another episode of that dumb housewives show. You end up watching National Geographic, some documentary about the role of bioluminescent shrimp in the sea.

“Aw look, they’re kissing,” he cooes at a pair of seahorses that wander across the screen halfway through a shot of some school of shrimp. “How romantic.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” you comment, not thinking too much on the meaning behind your words until you can feel Jungkook’s stare pierce your cranium. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed?” He blurts, and you choke on your wine.

“You were my first kiss,” you remind him, flush at the memory of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, knees knocking in what was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “With the Tony Hawk poster behind my bed, right?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook hums, and the two of you melt back into the silence. Nice aquatic sounds fill the room, the camera panning over more colorful fish that Jungkook oohs at appreciatively. You don’t really pay attention, more interested in the way the wine swirls in your cup and the way you can feel Jungkook’s thigh pressed against your knee, like when you were thirteen and trying something new.

You know it doesn’t mean a lot to him. Just another silly childhood memory of you. Not like you have hundreds, thousands of them with each other. By the way he’d blurted the question, you doubt he even remembered it most days. But you did.

It plagued your mind all the time, the soft feel of his mouth and the trembling hand that had held yours. You wonder if he kisses the same still, lips gently puckered. He’s had years to learn, half a decade to get creative with Sojin, and the past four years of being a bachelor to explore more.

You’ve kissed too, plenty of guys who had no meaning and ones you thought would replace him. But it’d been a long time since you’ve let anyone into your bed, more content to please yourself without the overbearing weight of feelings and emotions to wrap around your throat.

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

He’s looking at you inquisitively, like he can’t get his usual read on you and would rather just ask what’s wrong. “You don’t,” a pause, “hang out with guys?”

It’s devastatingly cute, the way he asks if you’re fucking, and you want to pinch his cheeks. Instead you shake your head, try to hide the grin on your face from his inquisitive expression. “Just you and Taehyung,” you admit.

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

You shake your head furiously. “No! God no, we don’t do anything like that,” you clarify, the thought of Taehyung in your bed enough to make you want to gag.

Jungkook says nothing, just turns back to the documentary to watch more Nemos and Dorys flit across the screen. You polish off your cup of wine, leaning forward to settle it back on the coffee table. As you settle back into the couch cushions, Jungkook speaks again. “So you take care of yourself?”

You freeze.

“Yeah,” you admit after one complete meltdown in your head. Where was this coming from? Why did he want to know? You and Jungkook were close, but you never did this. You never divulged the details of your sex life, never bragged about who you slept with or how many there were. What was going on?

Jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, just turns his attention back to the tv screen, where you’re almost certain the sea horses from before are fucking. Not that you know what it looks like, but you hope at least someone in this room was enjoying themselves and not drowning in the mortification of having their life long crush ask them if they masturbate.

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

You choke, slap your chest to ease the pounding of your heart at Jungkook asking such a question. “E-Excuse me?” You ask, scandalized that Jungkook, your sweet and caring childhood friend turned Fabio, could ask you such a bold question about your personal affairs.

“What?” Jungkook says, like he truly doesn’t see the inappropriateness of the situation. He even raises his eyebrows at you, as if urging you to answer the question.

You sigh, fight the flush of your cheeks and stare idly at the cups on the table. “A toy. Hands don’t feel good,” you curtly reply, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your legs off the couch, hoping that’s the end of his curiosity. This was enough to fuel your 3am anxiety meltdowns for the next five years.

Jungkook nods, and you can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of your face again. A great white shark swims across the screen. Jungkook strikes. “My hands feel good.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in horror (and excitement, but you’ll pretend it wasn’t there). “What has gotten into you?”

“What!” Jungkook defends, Bambi eyes looking at you like you’re the unreasonable one here. “We’re having a civil conversation in which I’m trying to open up your worldview.”

You’re flabbergasted. “This is not a civil conversation, what are you even talking about?” You scold, tug your arms around yourself like it’ll actually protect you from the words that don’t seem to be filtering out of his mouth properly. ���Why are you so concerned about that?” You interrogate, hope your forceful tone will scare him away.

It doesn’t. Jungkook shrugs, some noncommittal i dont know sound. “I can’t be interested in what you get up to? What my best friend gets up to?” It’s the obvious emphasis on best friend that makes you step down.

“No,” you sigh, rub a hand down your face. “You can be interested,” you tell him gingerly. “We just never really… talked about... those kinds of things,” you rush out, turn away from him as the narrator on screen dives into the intricacies of bioluminescent shrimp in the animal food chain.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jungkook softens, scooting closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, too close and too warm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, places a palm on your knee.

“I’m not!” You rush to assure him, facing him head on again. His eyes are big and implorative still, and you wonder why he became stuck on that of all things today. “It just surprised me.”

His lips quirk to the side, an unsure grin that has you leaning into his shoulder. You sit in silence, the rise and fall of his body with every breath lulling you into a sense of comfort.

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

The documentary’s wrapping up, soothing ocean sounds and wind instruments playing as the credits roll across the screen, when the hand that had been laying so comfortably on your thigh inches up. At first, you don’t notice it, writing it off as Jungkook just shifting around. You tell yourself it’s just that, until his pinky makes contact with the end of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn towards him, catch his mocha irises lustfully lidded as he toys with the hem. “Kook?” You murmur, so soft, barely there.

“Hm?” He replies, continuing to play with the edge of your shorts, until he gets brave and his fingers slip beneath, index finger just barely grazing the panties underneath. You gasp. “This okay?”

Stuck between your arousal and your common sense, you flounder for a response. He’s so close, and smells so good, curls brushing against your temple the closer he gets. You want him so bad, want him to find his place between your thighs and put those pouty lips to use. But you know it’ll make things different, change whatever it is you’ve had for the past almost thirty years, and you’ll never bounce back. Another brush against your panties, pointer finger wiggling it’s way beneath the fabric, and you’re choking out a “yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and something in your core tingles at the name, thighs clenching together. “Uh uh,” he chides, nudges them open. “Stay still for me,” he commands, and you do, for all of ten seconds, but then he’s pressing his finger on your clit, panties and shorts muting the sensation. Still, it makes you squirm, fingers clutching the couch cushion beneath you as you struggle to keep them open. “Too much?” He asks, and you shake your head no.

“I-It’s fine,” you whisper, and Jungkook smiles.

He pets you, almost wondrously, for a few beats, watches the way the muscles in your thighs twitch with every press against your mound. Eventually, he decides it’s enough. “Hands don’t feel good for you?” He inquires, your words from earlier obviously having left their mark on him. Slowly, you shake your head. He glances down at the fist you have on the couch, composed features sliding up your face. “Well, yours are so small, princess. Of course they don’t feel good.”

He manhandles you around, tugs you onto the couch until you’re laying down, legs sprawled on either side of him. Pleased with the arrangement, Jungkook glances back down to your bottoms. “These have to go,” he tells you, hooks his fingers in the waistband and abruptly yanks down, leaving you just in your t-shirt.

You go to shy away, but Jungkook stops you, palms resting on the insides of your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin soothingly. “My fingers are long, see?” He says, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at you. You nod, heartbeat thundering in your ears. “They’ll feel nice inside.”

You know they will.

You can tell he knows his way around a woman’s body just from the way his hands glide over yours, carefully like he’s mapping you out. Ever so slowly, one hand grows closer, until his thumb is gently circling your clit, and you inhale sharply.

“So wet,” Jungkook hums, his other hand traveling further down, until he’s spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, trailing them through the arousal that gathers there.

You’ve never been so attentively cared for, never had a man zero in on your cunt like it was his first meal in ages. Jungkook’s eyes are clouded with lust, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he watches your pussy lips flutter at his touch.

He swirls his hand over your clit, pressing down. The first sound escapes you, a soft whimper that has you clamping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Jungkook grins down at you, shifts closer to press a kiss to the knuckles over your mouth.“Don’t hide from me,” he purrs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your neck.

You cry out when he gets back to it, massaging your pussy with gentle hands and a thumb against your clit to placate you. “Jungkook,” you choke out, and he beams at his name, takes it as a sign to finally slip two fingers inside. “A-ah,” you whine, arching beneath him.

He basks in your noises, leans close again to press a kiss beneath your ear, against your jaw. “This okay?” He murmurs, curling the fingers inside of you. You mewl, throwing your arms around him as he begins working you open. “How does it feel, baby?”

“G-good,” you pant, turn your head until you can bury your nose in his hair, drown even more in his all-consuming aura.

Another kiss to your neck, before he’s suctioning his lips right below your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin to brand you his. “You like my hands?” He husks, and the patch of saliva he leaves on your neck feels cold without his mouth there. You nod, and Jungkook rewards you with a soft smooch over the hickey he’s left.

His fingers inside you curl and scissor, brush against every inch of your walls until you’re quivering beneath him, gasping his name out. You could melt if his fingers weren’t holding you together. “So tight,” he groans, curling his fingers. The movement touches upon something sensitive within you, and you moan his name loudly.

“O-Oh,” you pant, wiggling beneath him as you try to feel that again. Jungkook lets you, watches you desperately rut into his hands. He drifts away, lets his tongue mouth over your breasts, licking until there’s a damp spot on your t-shirt, the flimsy house bra you’d worn and the t-shirt combined not enough to hide your pebbled nipples.

The drag of his hands against your pussy isn’t enough, the motions not quick enough. Jungkook glances at your twisted features, your quivering pussy, and then, ever so gently, ducks over you, puckered lips letting one, long glob of saliva touch down on your pussy, trickling around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” you choke, watch his tongue swipe over his lip to break the thin bridge that connects you too. Suddenly, everything is smoother, the combined lubrication of your arousal and his spit making the glide of his fingers sinfully slick.

Frantic for release, you lose yourself in him, ready to free fall into your pleasure so long as Jungkook is there to catch you. “That’s it,” he encourages, picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. “Come on, beautiful, let me see that gorgeous face of yours when you come.”

“K-Kook,” you sob, and he smiles against your neck. His fingers work fast, until your muscles are all pulled tight, waiting for that final push to unravel. You make the mistake of glancing down, only to be caught by that pearly smile and adoring gaze. You’re in heaven, you know you are.

There’s no other explanation for this—the way Jungkook holds you like you’re his, hands so gently caressing your most intimate parts. You’re almost convinced you’re having a fever dream, a sick, too realistic dream, but then Jungkook’s biting down on your shoulder through your t-shirt, subtly rutting against your thigh.

“Cum for me,” he purrs against your neck, and you do, sobbing as your orgasm rolls over you, the heavy weight of his cock against your thigh. “Jungkook,” you cry, so pitifully, it has him lunging forward, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

You feel sweaty and gross, unbelievably tired from the gentle way he opened you up. Blindly, you reach down, feel the hardness of his cock beneath his sweatpants, but Jungkook nudges you away. You huff. “Let me,” you whimper, reach for him again even though you can see the slowness in your movement. “Need your cock in my mouth,” you drawl, almost sleepily. 

“Shh,” he soothes, lips pressed against your neck, where he’s still licking and sucking over every inch of you. You whine. “You don’t have to do a thing, gorgeous,” he assures you, “just wanted to make you feel good.”

—

Work gets stressful shortly after. There’s a new batch of interns coming in this season, new faces who will mess up your coffee orders and jam the printers for a good few weeks. There’s normally a team of employees who train them, a mix of relatively older people from different departments who show them around; a girl in the finance department, the one who usually trains them, is on maternity leave. With no one else to fall back on, the head of the department pushes the duties off on you, claiming your flexibility and work ethic make you the perfect candidate for such a role.

Normally you’d thrive at the praise, eat up every single word like it sustained you. In a way, it did. It was nice to be appreciated and recognized for your hard work, to be thought of so highly, especially in a male-dominated company. However, this time, you know it’s out of convenience that the head kisses up to you, and you end up begrudgingly taking the role.

The gaps in your schedule you’d normally spend relaxing or catching up on other projects are filled with bumbling interns, calling for help every chance they get. It’s like they’ve never done anything on their own, this group, always asking you the correct way to do this, the right way to do that. You haven’t mentored interns in a while, so you spend the first day breezing over old powerpoints and print outs you made years ago. You remember why you’re not fit for mentoring when one of them asks you how to navigate Excel. You nearly rip their head off.

There’s so much going on, you barely get time to see Jungkook, let alone text him. You saw him once the morning after, stack of pancakes on your kitchen table as he rushed you off to work. The shop didn’t open for another hour. He was sweet, kissed your forehead as you left, but he’s always done that. You didn’t have time to talk about whatever the night before was, or what that made the two of you now.

On Friday night, one week into your nightmarish role, you pull into the shop. You'd like to convince yourself it was routine, visiting the shop, but that’s a lie. You desperately miss Jungkook. 

 Most of the garage doors that are usually pulled open during the day are shut, save for one. The last of Jungkook’s employees are leaving, bidding you adieu as you step out of your car. Park Jimin is there, repairing some rickety car in the back corner.

“Boo,” you call playfully, and Jimin doesn’t flinch, merely pulls his head from out of the hood to flash you an easygoing smile.

He whistles at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve been through one of helluva week,” he says, and you, despite your strong personality, feel yourself blush at his comment. Jeez, did you look that bad? Jimin doesn’t elaborate, just pulls out a stool for you to sit on beside where he’s working. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance at the plexiglass, the offices hiding down the hall. Jungkook could wait, you presume, settling down beside him. Your skirt tugs up as you settle onto the pleather seat, so you cover your legs meekly with your purse. “Work’s been crazy,” you explain, and Jimin laughs at the obvious.

“You’re telling me,” He hums, and you roll your eyes playfully. “What’s going on at work?”

What hasn’t been going on, you think to yourself, before launching into a full retelling of your new horrendous position, of all the interns with their clueless eyes and useless notebooks. Jimin chuckles, indulges you in a few comments here and there that only fuel you on. He’s just about done with whatever he’s doing to the car at the same time your story wraps up, explaining how you found yourself here, desperate for Jungkook to whisk you off to that arcade you loved as kids. “Jungkook?” He asks, and you nod. “He left a while ago.”

You freeze. “Huh?” You say, dumbly. You almost want to laugh at your own impulsiveness, for showing up without sending him a text or a warning to let him know you were coming. You almost do laugh, but then you remember you and Jungkook never did that anyway. Hell, he showed up at your house a few weeks ago unannounced and drunk. The two of you were hardly the type to plan ahead, so it was weird for him to not be here. He’s been at the shop almost every night since it’s opened, the days he’s not usually a holiday.

“Jimin…” you begin, glancing at the receptionist window once more. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin shuts his tool box, kicking a cart off to the side. “He left with that lady,” he tells you, doesn’t hear the way your heart rips straight out of your chest. No way. “Tall, pretty. Had that nice Corvette he fixed up a while ago.”

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

“Think that was her name.” As if sensing your tumultuous thoughts, he steps closer, one hand reaching out to steady you. “You alright?”

“God,” you exhale, pushing yourself away from Jimin and the garage and the window. The stool rolls away, almost hits the side of another car but Jimin catches it. He rushes over towards you, watching you wobble in your heels.

“Honey,” Jimin says, steady and warm beside you. “Sit down for me, yeah?” He guides you to a row of seats against the wall, nailed into the floor so you can’t push them away and make even more of a mess. Not that that’s your concern, your mind and heart too preoccupied with thoughts of Jungkook lying to you, going out with that woman again, despite your obvious hatred for her and his promise to you.

Jimin disappears, rushes over to the other side of the garage before returning with a water bottle for you. He cracks it open, presses it into your hands, and then against your lips when you don’t move. “Drink,” he encourages, watching you with worried eyes that only grow more and more concerned the deeper you fall into your thoughts.

You want to cry and beat Jungkook up at the same time. You want to scream at him for lying to you after treating you so nicely, holding you so warmly. Instead, you gasp for breath, clutching your face in your hands like it’s the only thing that grounds you.

There’s a beep outside, chirpy and cute in the way only older models are, and you whip your head up, the headlights of the Corvette painting you in shades of yellow as it rolls to a stop, the tears you hadn’t felt glistening under the light.

Jungkook flings himself out of the driver’s seat, and a sob catches in your throat when Sojin steps out of the passenger seat. Jungkook shoves everything in his path to the side, carts flying into the few automobiles on the floor, tools clanging loudly onto the cement, and just as those arms you love so much are reaching out for you, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him.

“What did you do to her?” Jungkook snarls, pushing Jimin roughly to the side. Jimin, smaller but not weaker, holds his ground, clutching Jungkook by the material of his jumpsuit a second time. “Let— go!” Jungkook shouts, finally worming away from his employee.

He nearly trips before you, stumbling to his knees as he takes your quivering hands in his. “What’s wrong,” he asks, throwing a nasty glare back at Jimin who watches silently from the side. Sojin is still by her car, leaning across the driver’s side now. “What did he do, what did he say?”

You shake your head, dropping your head to tuck your chin against your chest. You hate this. Hate letting him or Jimin or Sojin see you cry. It’s not the person you are, not the self-made woman you claim to be as you cry over the same man who is unknowingly defending you from himself.

“Let go,” you whisper, hoarse and choked. You shake your arms, but he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Jungkook pleads, inching closer to you. His breath is warm and he smells like oil, just like he always does. He also smells sweet and floral in a way only a woman could. He smells like Sojin.

You sob, rip your hands away from and scurry blindly towards Jimin, who catches you in his arms despite the shock that paints his face.

Jungkook watches with an expression of hurt, watches you snuggle into the arms of another man over an issue you won’t tell him about. Jimin says nothing, just rubs his palm over your back. He gestures towards the red corvette, the woman standing by it and Jungkook takes the hint.

You hear the kitten-like purr as it pulls off, the silence that follows afterwards. You don’t know where Jungkook is, if he’s here or if he left with her, and you don’t want to. “Tell me he’s gone,” you beg Jimin, quiet gasps against his neck.

He nods, slowly lets you untangle yourself from his arms as the two of you stare over the empty garage. The Corvette is gone, and so is Jungkook. Before Jimin can tell you where he is, you’re wiping a hand over your face, embarrassed at the moisture it comes back with. 

“I take it he’s not supposed to be with her?” Jimin tries to joke. 

Neither of you laugh. 

You sniffle, process what just happened, how you acted. You’ve never felt that way before, never experienced such brutal heartbreak. 

You don’t know what you expected from Jungkook. In your heart, you convinced yourself what happened in your apartment was the start of something new between the two of you, a natural result of your long friendship. Realistically, you know you should’ve waited until the two of you spoke, discussed whatever happens next. But you’d spent the past week comforted by the fact you’d finally gotten to experience something like that with him, daydreaming about him every chance you got. 

Somewhere in your mind, you had convinced yourself your involvement with him would finally be what broke his connection with Sojin, the final nail that would make him forget about her. It’s painfully funny how such wasn’t the case. 

Jimin breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay to drive home?” He gently inquires, and you turn your gaze over toward your car. 

Did you trust yourself to make it home without shedding a single tear? Absolutely not. But between Sojin and Jimin, you had let enough strangers see you fall apart over a man tonight. 

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him. 

—

The interns pick up on your sour attitude the week that follows. They don’t ask dumb questions, and don’t mess up your order. You talk them through a presentation, show them how to properly organize finance charts. There’s a slide that has clip art, a goofy dollar sign with a smile and shoes. Jungkook put it there when you first made the PowerPoint. After the little lesson, you go to the bathroom and try not to cry.

A week later, and the interns don’t need you anymore. They do well, and your boss praises you for being such a good mentor. You thank him and he lets you go home early.

Home is empty. Jungkook doesn’t show up unannounced, mostly because you’ve changed the number lock on the door. You want to eat salad today, for some reason, but don’t have any of the ingredients for it, so you walk to the supermarket a few blocks away.

The supermarket feels the same as it always does at night. That ghostly feeling of being watched in an empty aisle, the scratchy tune of whatever Top 50 radio station they settled on today. You get there and decide you don’t want salad anymore, so you buy ingredients for a stew instead, all of which you probably had at home.

When you step outside, the air around your bare thighs is cold. Summer was ending, which meant Jungkook’s birthday was coming up. You ball the receipt in your hand and fling it at the trash. You miss, so you hobble over to pick it up.

The trash is beside a red Corvette with two racing stripes.

“Hey,” Sojin says, arms crossed over her chest as she walks up behind you, sizing up your crouched form beside her car. “What’re you doing to my car?”

You breathe in, shake the crumpled up receipt at her, before stuffing it in the garbage. She says nothing as you stalk by her, and you’re back on the main road when she pulls up next to you, window rolled down to speak to you. “Get in,” she gestures, “it’s gonna rain.”

“No,” you say, and a fat raindrop falls right on your nose.

The door unlocks and you climb in, plastic bags crowded by your feet.

The drive is silent. You only live a few minutes from the store, and you point out an empty spot by the sidewalk for her to pull up to. A dry thanks is on the tip of your tongue, but you never get to say it.

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

“That sucks,” you respond, feel bad right away and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by it, shifting the Corvette out of drive and cutting the engine. “He’s probably not gonna see Christmas,” she adds, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about her or her crazy father.  “I wanted to do something nice for him before he, y’know.”

“Died,” you fill, and at that she glares.

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Before he died. So I fixed up his car. But the place I took it to didn’t know how to fix an engine so old, and ended up fucking it up even more.” You nod, she continues. “Then I bumped into Jungkook and—“

“Took advantage of his kindness,” you finish, remembering the twinkle in his eyes when he’d told you about their encounter, that day in the empty garage that seemed lightyears away. “Well congrats. Hope your dad liked it,” you sigh, push open the door and get soaked to the bone immediately.

“Wait!” Sojin calls, hopping out after you. She’s still as beautiful as she was when you were seventeen, even with rain soaking her entire being. “I didn’t ask him to repaint it, but that’s what my dad loved the most.”

You want to go inside, make your stew, and cry in it.

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by the bangs that stick to her forehead or the water that washes down her spine. “When I told him Jungkook did it… he wanted to see him. Apologize and stuff.”

You snort. “Apologize,” you repeat, tightening your grip on your shoppings bags. “For what, Sojin? For almost killing him with this car or for treating him like shit for five years?” She says nothing, stares at the hood of the car like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “He was crazy for you, you know that? He would have done anything for you and not once did you stand up to your dad for him. You let that man call him worthless, stupid, a waste of space. And for what? For you to break up with him for some rich asshole who would never treat you half as good as Jungkook did?” You sneer.

The rain feels cold and your groceries feel heavier, so you whirl on your heel and make for your building entrance.

“He never liked me,” Sojin calls out, and you wonder if she even heard the second half of your emotional outburst. You turn to face her with fire in your eyes, and are only a little surprised at the sadness that paints hers. “He never liked me the way he said he did.” You could knock her teeth out.

“You’re stupid,” you spit, and she rounds the car at an insane speed until she’s glaring down at you over her perfectly sculpted nose.

“He never liked me,” Sojin repeats angrily. “He was always busy looking at you—for approval, for attention, I don’t fucking know. He would hold me and touch me but it never felt real. It always felt like practice for him…” she sniffles and your breath hitches in your throat. “We dated all through college,” she says like you don’t know, like you didn’t stress about it for years. “Everyday closer to graduation felt like a ticking bomb. Like he was just waiting for you to come back. To come home.”

You remember it.

The excited texts he’d send you everyday, the plans he made for you. Jungkook was more excited than your parents about you coming home. The five hours had done a number on him, and after four years all he wanted was to have you close again. You remember the hug in his driveway, the way his mom had told you he’d waited all day for you. It’s weird hearing it from Sojin.

Too overwhelmed, you decide to deflect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur, and you’re surprised she hears it over the pouring rain.

A loud scoff. “You’re stupid,” she repeats back, jabbing a finger at your chest. You glare, and so does she. Like two animals in a cage you size each other up. “You’re stupid and ugly and I hate you,” she spits, and you drop your shopping bags to lunge at her.

You don’t swing, just grab her by the shirt and move to slam her against the wall, but she’s tall and a little strong, bony fingers wrapping around your wrists like spiders. “Why can’t you see how much he likes you?” She screams, like it hurts to admit it. “He’s been in love with you since forever, and all you’ve ever done is run away!”

“I never—“ you gasp, pushing her away from you. Sojin stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. “I’ve never run away,” you defend, heart beating in your chest too fast to be normal. “Some of us have careers and lives we want to live—I don’t want to depend on a man for the rest of my life!”

She growls, tugs at her wet hair like you’re giving her a headache. Stomping up to you once more, she pushes you hard with both hands, and you barely catch yourself in time. “He would have followed you to that fucking fancy school, but you told him it was better to save money here! Told him to not waste his time and just settle there! You did this to us—to all of us!”

You choke. Lightning flashes behind her, and for a moment all you can see is your gentle prodding, sitting behind him as he filled out applications, big wannabe business brain telling him the easiest way to save money for his auto shop was by going straight into technical school. The small frown on his face that day you’d packed for college, and the way he’d stood in your parent’s driveway until you couldn’t see him anymore, a little spec in your rearview mirror.

Sojin, sensing she’s made her point, says nothing. She scoops up your fallen grocery bags and shoves them into your trembling hands, stomping back to her car and pulling off with a roar, loud and ferocious, and nothing like a kitten.

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

Taehyung invites you to lunch one day, and you go. You’re starving and desperate to get away from work, where you’re paranoid everyone knows there’s something wrong with you. You meet up at a cute little bistro, and he smiles and hugs you when you arrive. You sit in comfort for all of two seconds before he jumps into his interrogation.

“What’s going on with you and Kook?” He asks, casually flipping through the menu. Your hand stills around your glass of water, and you eventually set it down without ever taking a drink. Your mind instinctively maps out a lie, but Taehyung has known you a while now, knows the quirk of your lips when you’re about to lie your ass off. “Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen you at the shop in almost a month. And he doesn’t go out,” he mentions. “I think he spent four nights at the shop before I made him go home.”

You deflate.

Too embarrassed to explain, you flip through your own menu, and when the waitress comes you order the first words your eyes focus on. Taehyung doesn’t push you, just patiently gazes out over the bustling street.

Finally, you break. “We… did a thing.”

“Uh huh,” he nods, reading some ad on the side of a bus that passes by. “Need you to elaborate, babe.”

You squirm. “We… fooled around,” you say for lack of more appropriate wording. There’s a family sitting beside you, and you’d rather die than let some nooby pre-teen listen to the details of yours and Jungkook’s night.

“You fucked?” You choke, make a loud sputtering noise like it’ll drown out Taehyung’s voice to the other patrons. “What’s wrong with that? We all knew it’d happen sooner or later,” he shrugs.

“No,” you seethe. “We didn—I didn’t.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, the same way Sojin did that day on the sidewalk. You almost throw your glass of water at him. “We…” you sigh. “We did a thing, and then the week after he went out with Sojin.”

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention of her, so the glass of water is returned to its coaster. “Really? He went out with her right away? He’s cancelled.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “He… her dad has cancer and is literally on his deathbed so she wanted to fix up his car for memories sake, which he loved, so he wanted to apologize to Kook and thank him for fixing up his car,” you rush out, and now Taehyung chokes, water spewing out of his nose. You shriek, drawing everyone’s attention as you pat down your soaked blouse. “Tae!”

“I’m sorry,” he cries, wiping at the sting in his nose. “He-she, what?!” You ignore him, focus on battling the damp spot on your blazer. “God, that’s crazy,” Taehyung snorts, winces at the feeling in his nose.

After the two of you have settled, the manager kicks you out for your inappropriate conversations and childish behavior. You leave with your tails tucked between your legs. Taehyung holds your hand as he walks you back to your workplace, you quietly fill him in on all the other details surrounding yours and Jungkook’s fallout, from your breakdown in the garage to your weirdly dramatic confrontation with Sojin. “Well,” he claps, slamming a hand down on the traffic light button, even though both of you know it doesn’t work. “That explains a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing down the crosswalk when the light finally changes of its own accord. “Do you,” you pause, feet glued to the sidewalk. “Do you think she was right?”

Taehyung glances back at you, so small and unsure in the midst of a bustling crowd. He smiles, sweet and soft. Rare coming from him. His free hand ruffles the top of your head, and he brings you into his chest. “Babe, the hottest guy in your grade was intimidated by scrawny, pre-muscle bunny Jungkook. I’m pretty sure he feels some type of way towards you.”

Your lip wobbles dangerously, and you bite down on it to stop. Taehyung pats your head, barks at some old guy when he yells at the two of you for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

When you’re outside your office, you speak again. “You were not the hottest guy in our grade, by the way.”

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, you finally have the balls to show yourself again, and you hop on the highway leading out of the city before you can overthink it. The buildings slowly melt away, replaced with cozier homes, tinier shops, and by the time you’re pulling up the street, you’re deep in doubt again.

It’s not that late yet, only a little past sunset, but the garage doors, usually open to the street, are all shut. You frown, pull around the block, reverse into a spot across the street. Locking your car, a gust of wind nearly trips you as you cross the street. The front office is dark, metal shutters pulled over the entrance.

Eventually, you stumble around until you find the tiny backdoor squeezed beside some dumpsters, grateful for the key Jungkook had given you so long ago.

Just as Taehyung predicted, a pair of red jumpsuit clad feet stick out from beneath a car. A nice car, an even older Corvette than Sojin’s dad’s, still shiny despite the model it is. It looks like a show car with the way it glints at you, black paint almost glossy. The only light in the entire garage is a lamp, positioned over the area where the legs are working, and a flashlight that occasionally beams at you when the holder loses his grip. No music today, just the hum of a rotating fan. You creep over.

Jungkook’s humming a song when you get to him, foot tapping idly on the ground. You suck in a deep breath and nudge his foot with the tip of your heel. You have exactly two seconds to jump away when he abruptly rolls out from beneath the car, concentrated features scanning quickly around until they land on you.

The garage is still, until Jungkook jumps into action. “___,” he stammers, stumbling to his feet. The rolling board drifts away, bumping into the corner of the metal table beside you. “Hi, um,” he flounders, brushing his fingers through his hair, palms wiping over the front of his pants. Finally, “hi.”

The bad bitch Chanel skirt-suit you’d worn today fails you for the first time in a long time. Your hands feel sweaty, so you clutch them behind your back. “Hi, Jungkook,” you exhale, and all the emotions you’d swallowed for so long, the feelings that tightened around your chest and throat like boa constrictors, come oozing out, until all you can see is his puckered mouth and twinkling gaze.

He coughs, tries to casually lean against the car, but greatly miscalculates the distance. “What, um, what brings you here?” He asks, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

There’s a box of takeout on the floor he tries to subtly kick beneath the car, and a plastic bottle of soda that makes a loud noise when he tries that too. You twist your lips, watching the anxious shuffling of his feet. You breeze over his question, plaster a tight smile into your face, and ask your own question; “how long have you been here?” Tentatively, you lower yourself onto a rolling stool. “It’s late,” you state the obvious.

Jungkook’s leg bounces, and he pats his hand over it nervously. “Um, an hour? Just working on something,” he answers, cheeks warm as his eyes flicker everywhere but you. “What brings you here?” He repeats, and you know you can’t deflect it this time.

Shrugging half heartedly, you wait for him to finally look at you. When he does, he almost looks away but the glint in your eye stops him from doing so. “We need to talk,” you finally say. Jungkook visibly deflates, lips pulling into a thin line. You contemplate letting him relieve his thoughts first, but you came here with a point to make, for questions that needed answering, and you’re scared one word from him will wash them all away.

“Listen,” you start, smoothing your hand over the edge of your skirt. “I know something weird happened between us, and then I kinda freaked out on you, but… I need you to tell me the truth.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

You swallow, try to push back the frustration that builds in his throat. “Did you ever even like Sojin?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?” A snort. “You’re joking,” he snickers, wipes at faux tears in the corner of his eyes, before your unsmiling face registers and he’s schooling his features. “___, I did like her. I dated her for five years. How could I not like her?”He says seriously, like he can’t believe you would ever question such a thing. 

You exhale, pick at your fingernails. “I met her,” you admit, and Jungkook’s face twists in confusion. “At the supermarket last week. She said you never liked her.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Of course she’ll think that—we’re exes. I doubt she remembers all our best memories,” he sighs, turning back to organize his tool cart like he’s done with this conversation.

Raising to your feet you call his name again, and he hums absentmindedly. “Sojin said you never liked her because you were always chasing after me,” you accuse, laying all your cards out on the table. Your claim startles him, and you watch as he jostles half the tool cart with his surprise.

“She, what?” He huffs, cheeks as red as his jumpsuit. He forces out a laugh, airy and tight like you’re starring in your elementary school play again and the nerves are eating him up. “I-I don’t know why she’d say that.”

He’s flustered, obviously so, as he scoops the metal tools back onto the cart, bumping into three other things before settling back down on the floor to roll under the car. He pushes himself under, and you sternly call out, “Jungkook.” He freezes.

You strut over, brush your hands behind your skirt as you crouch beside him. “Always,” you quietly remind him. Jungkook says nothing. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve grossly misread the situation, if this was just another one of her schemes to drive the two of you apart.

Slowly, Jungkook appears from under the car. There’s a new stain on his cheekbone, brown and slick. He sits up, wide eyes tracing over your features likes he’s trying to seal them in his memory. “Yeah,” he admits, lips twisting as he watches the surprise take your features, before he’s lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, leaving you to stare at the column of his neck.

“I do,” Jungkook admits, pushing through his emotions. It’s hard for him to confess, you realize, watching the way his Adam’s apples contracts and his jaw twitches from having to say so. “I like you so much it hurts.”

His confession leaves you feeling weird. On one hand, you want nothing more than to spring yourself on him and kiss his face until the stray oil marks are gone and replaced with the outline of your lipstick prints. You want to smother him and hold him, let him know he’s yours, always has been.

On the other hand… it’s sad. Going on thirty years and never did the two of you guess your feelings for each other. You doubt either of you are good at hiding them, with the way everyone seems to have known except you two. Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

A hand touches your knee, and you return your attention to his downtrodden appearance, chin tucked against his chest. “Please,” he murmurs. “Say something.”

You say nothing.

Tentatively, you reach a hand out, run it along the side of his head, through his mane, chocolate waves touching his cheekbones. He almost looks like when you guys were kids, round eyes watching your every move. Your hand continues down the back of his head, cupping the nape of his neck comfortingly. Jungkook leans into the touch, even though his shoulders are tense. You soothe your fingers over the tight muscles in his neck.

“Since when?” You inquire.

Jungkook blinks, lets your palm trace along his jawline and cup his cheek. “Since you dated Taehyung when we were sixteen.”

Mentally, you curse every deity in existence for putting Kim Taehyung in your life. “God,” you groan, burrowing your hands in your palms. Jungkook, surprised by your reaction, rolls closer, moves around until you’re crouched between his long legs. “Since me and that pinhead dated for twenty minutes?” You repeat.

Jungkook shifts closer, rubs your back. “It was 65 hours, actually,” he corrects, and the exact duration of your relationship makes you cringe. “I… counted.”

Small and shy, almost embarrassed. You glance back up at him. “Why?” You prod, and Jungkook’s cheek flush, palm stilling.

“Uh,” he starts. “I was nervous? That you two were in it for the long run. And I, I don’t know. It was easier to just count,” he lamely finishes, and his dangly earring whips around with him when he avidly avoids your gaze.

You sigh, catch his hand in yours. “Tae and I would have never lasted,” you tell him, remembering all the times the guy made you pick him up from one night stands in the last few years. “He wasn’t who I wanted.”

His foot jumps, toe tapping against the wheel of the car next to you. He wants to ask, you know he does, but Jungkook was quite possibly the only other person on this planet who could overthink something more than you.

Deciding to ease his worries, you give his hand a squeeze. “It was you,” you confess, feel like an elephant lands straight on your chest. “It is you,” you correct.

His forehead knocks against yours, hard, and you hiss at the bump that probably forms. “What the fu—“

“Tell me it’s not temporary,” Jungkook pleads, eyes crinkled in worry. You’re going cross eyed from trying to look at him like this, so you flit your eyes off somewhere to the side. His hand is heavy in yours. “Tell me you’re not just doing this for closure, or because you want to see what it would have been like, please,” he begs, “that would be so fucked up, because I’m so in love with you I actually think I might die.”

The dramatic confession makes you painfully warm. You nod, your lower lip trembling at the way he looks at you, like you single-handedly controlled this entire world with a flick of your wrist. “I-I love you too,” you parrot back, the first time you’ve ever said it, the millionth time you’ve ever thought it.

Jungkook visibly relaxes, pulls away from you to drop his head on your shoulder instead. Your legs are starting to cramp from the tight crouching position, ankles wobbly in your heels. His hair smells good still, despite the hours he’s probably spent beneath a car, and you gingerly pat the back of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and you repeat it. “I love you,” he says again, and you repeat it. “I lov—“

“Me, yes, I’ve heard,” you cut him off, smile at the snort he releases, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your neck. You’re instantly thrown back a few weeks, to that night on the couch with the limited edition Shrek 2 cups and the wine; the gentle touches that left you trembling for weeks. You inhale quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

His eyes are too soft, face too relaxed as he stares at you. “My legs hurt,” you tell him, quickly getting up. You whirl around, facing the car and digging through your purse like you suddenly have something to do.

“Oh,” you gasp, watch two arms wind around your waist, the dirty red jumpsuit contrasting against the tweed material of your high-end Chanel jacket. Jungkook sighs lovingly by your ear, snuggles his face into your neck. “W-we should go out,” you blurt, nerves jumping when he squeezes tighter, burrows closer. “To celebrate!”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah?” His voice is too low. You’re in trouble. “Celebrate what?”

You squirm, breath catching in your throat when he presses you closer against the hood of the car. “Um,” you shakily exhale, hands splaying out over the sleek surface of the black hood to steady yourself. It’s so shiny you can almost see your reflection. “U-Us!” You finally manage to exclaim.

A kiss against the side of your neck, and your spirit just about exits your body. Your knees feel weak, and you're just about ready to throw another mediocre excuse his way, when something warm and wet traces up the column of your neck. “Kook!” You gasp.

“Shh,” he murmurs, deep voice instantly soothing over your nerves. His hips nudge against your behind, and you jump at the bulge that presses against your lower back. One hand unwraps from around you, gliding down your arm sensually until he’s trapping your fingers on the hood of the car with his own. A swift kiss against your ear. “You owe me, remember?”

You flush, remember the filthy promises your list-addled brain has spewed that night at your house, the almost erratic development of your thoughts as you became consumed in the thought of him. Reminisce on the prod of his fingers against your cunt, his hot breath against your ear.

Suddenly, Jungkook whirls you around, traps you with his gaze as two hands flutter to rest on the small of your back. He’s looking down at you with those lovesick eyes, hooded with lust as they trace over the dip of your Cupid’s bow. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” A soft brush of his mouth against yours, pouty lips guiding you through a kiss, until you’re sighing against him, and he’s pulling away.

Numbly, you nod, almost hypnotized by the soft smirk that overtakes his features as he pushes you down, watches you sink to your knees before him. The concrete feels cold and hard beneath your knees. His jumpsuit is knotted around his waist, and you shakily unravel it, the elastic waistband staring you in the face afterwards.

“Take your time,” Jungkook croons, hand coming to rest on the side of your face, knuckles brushing over your skin delicately.

You tug it down, and one flash of that underwear band has your nerves flying out the window. You shove his t-shirt out of the way, let your hands trail over the ridges of his abdomen in your haste. He helps you by tugging it over his head. With that gone, his black boxers stare you in the face, and you yank those down with no hesitation.

“Jesus, baby,” Jungkook chuckles, though it’s choked off when you grasp his engorged cock in his hand. You should be surprised, marveling at the sight, considering it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. But you brain is working overtime, too immersed in the vein that runs alongside it and the tip that throbs back at you. Later you can worship it, you think. Right now, you needed it down your throat.

The tip is flaming and swollen, his cock still growing plump in your hold, your hands slowly dragging up and down the length. You lean forward, press a gentle kiss below the mushroom head, trail kisses down the length until you're meeting your knuckles, and trail them back again. Jungkook sucks in a tight breath, leans to rest his palms on the car behind you, as he watches you on him.

A head of precum escapes, and you lunge for it, swirl your tongue in and around the slit on his cock, until his entire body tenses up. “Fuck,” he grunts, watches you ease his cock into your mouth. You groan at the stretch, the drag against the corners of your lips making your eyes roll backwards. “___, baby, a little more?” He asks, voice hoarse as he watches you sink down further on his cock.

You comply, close your eyes and focus on relaxing your throat. There’s a hand on the back of your head, impatiently pushing you down his length. “Shit,” he cries, unconsciously ruts against you. You gag, and he shushes you with a caress against your cheek. “Sorry,” he huffs, “just a little more for me, okay?”

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, you let him push you down until his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t take anymore. The prod against your throat has tears springing to your eyes. “Gonna move now,” Jungkook announces, thumb brushing away the tears that collect in the corners. “Be good.”

He drags himself out, your saliva coating every inch of him, and when just the tip is resting on your tongue, he shoves back in. You whimper, palms digging into his thighs. Jungkook brushes a hand down your hair, soothes you for all of two seconds before he’s pulling out and doing it all over again. He picks up the pace, loses himself in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, tongue dragging over his cock.

The feeling in your throat burns, each thrust of his hips against your mouth making your jaw more and more sore. But god, it feels good to have him so close, his scent swarming your sense, groans like music to your ears. You want to please him, want him to feel as good as you did at your place. You want it even more now that you know how he feels, know he’s probably thought about this before.

A brutal thrust has you gagging, throat contracting around his length. “Shh,” Jungkook sighs, the fingers buried in your hair flattening out to run over your head. “Doing so good for me, beautiful.”

You bask in the praise, let a hand flutter down to the apex of your thighs, pressing down to relieve some of the pressure. Jungkook groans, rolls his hips against you and keeps you there for a second. Your throat spasms, his dick pressed hotly against it, and you feel your panties grow embarrassingly sticky. Eventually, he draws back out.

“You like this?” He hums, rutting against you faster now, nose brushing against the sparse hairs on his pelvis with every slam of his hips. You nod around a gag, eyes clouding with tears, lips slippery with saliva and precum. One particular thrust is so hard, it nearly sends you knocking back into the car, Jungkook’s hand on the back of your head barely saving you. “Fucking hell,” he spits, “look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat, princess.”

You moan around him, feel a subtle twitch against your tongue before he’s pulling himself out. “Shit,” he cursed, pushing you away as he goes to grab his own dick in his hand, tugging at it like a madman. “Wh-Where?” He asks, and you stare dumbly at the sight of him playing with himself, almost don’t realize he’s asking you a question.

You take too long, scramble for words too long, and even if you did have one your throat is far too sensitive yo answer. Jungkook grows impatient. Pulling you closer by the collar of your Chanel suit jacket, tugging it open until the flimsy buttons snap, and the tank top you wore beneath comes into view. He aims the tip of his cock towards your sternum, and a few jacks later, he’s coming, cum spurting against your chest. You watch the cum trail down between the valley of your breasts, until the feeling comes to rest against the inside wire of your bra, sticky and gross, sliding along the underside of your boobs. “Shit,” Jungkook repeats, eyes furrowed over you.

Your knees ache, and you nearly trip when you stand up, steadying yourself against the side of the car. Jungkook seems to regain his sense by then, hand trailing around your waist. You meet his eye, and almost immediately turn away, the blood in your face rapidly rising.

Jungkook laughs. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, gets too close and your noses bump. “Sorry,” he smiles, too shiny and bright for the sinful acts you just committed in an auto shop.

“Put your dick away,” you huff, let him nuzzle closer to you, and when he doesn’t move to tuck himself into his pants, you go do it for him.

Jungkook frowns, swats your hand away. “This dick has places to be,” he informs you, and you scoff.

“Refractory period,” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I’m not exactly gonna stick it in you this instant,” he drawls. “Gotta stretch you out first.”

You go to complain, tell him he doesn’t have to over exert himself. Truthfully, with Jungkook you feel like one good session was enough to sustain you for weeks. After last time, your skin had flowed for an entire week. But then his hand is slithering up your backside, sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass.

There’s quickly drying drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, saliva from when he’d fucked your throat just a few moments prior, that he kisses away. His mouth slots over yours, and your heart and pussy both flutter at the kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet for all of ten seconds, his mouth moving against yours until you feel the wet press of his tongue against your bottom lip, tracing along until you open your mouth. He wastes no time shoving his tongue past your lips, letting it dance with yours as he pulls you closer, hands gripping the globes of your ass. You let him lick his way into your mouth, more and more saliva catching in the corners of your mouth until he’s pulling away with a wet pop.

He pulls away, doesn’t stray too far, proud smirk crossing his features at the sight of your slicked lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, tongue mindlessly swiping over your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes track the movement. “The saliva,” he clarifies. “The spit. You liked it at your place too,” he reminisces, moving in on you again. “Liked watching me slobber and spit all over your body. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You blush, discreetly rub your thighs together. “I-I do,” you admit, willing the warmth of your face away because at this distance he must certainly feel it.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t say anything else as he captures your lips a second time. He doesn’t bother with the gentle prodding anymore, jumping straight into tongue right away. He’s messier, letting his saliva coat your lips and drip down your mouth, and as messy as it is, you love it. You whimper when he pulls away, but gasp when his hand tugs at the hair by the nape of your neck, pulling you back until you’re looking up at him.

“Open,” he murmurs, and you do, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.

It should be disgusting, the rev of his throat, the sound of his saliva collecting, and the way his jaw shifts when he’s got enough. It should be filthy, the way he shoots it down your open lips, the way it splatters against the back of your throat. It should be gross, but god do you love it. “Swallow,” Jungkook commands, and you do, feel his spit drip down your throat like it’s your own, whimpering at the feeling. A quirk of his lips. “Good girl.”

You have to bite down the pride that grows in your chest.

Jungkook’s hands continue their mapping out of your behind, eventually ending with a hard squeeze that has you squealing. Automatically, your back arches in surprise, breasts pressing against Jungkook’s chest. He smirks down at you.

“Bet you taste good,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Let me taste?”

“Please,” you beg, nearly losing your shit when he lifts you up onto the car, the cool metal making you jump, heel on your foot nearly kicking the side view mirror clean off. “Wait, Jungkook,” you sputter, glancing down at the sleek metal. “This is someone’s car.”

Jungkook ignores you, pushes your legs apart to slot himself between them. His palms run up your legs, over your thighs, until they’re toying with the hem of your skirt. Mocha eyes glance up at you, as if daring you to question him again, so you promptly zip your lips shut. The skirt goes, ever so slowly, over your thighs, bunches up at your waist until he’s staring at your lace panties.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose faintly brushing against your skin. The kisses trail over your skin, until he’s hovering over your panties, and he’s staring like a man starved. He gives no warning, suddenly leaning down to press his mouth over your party-clad folds, nose flush against your clit. “Kook!” You squeak, hands flying to clutch at his hair.

Jungkook mouths at you, drags his tongue against your panties until they’re soaked in both your essence and his saliva, just how you like. A hand slithers around your leg, wrapping around until he’s got a firm grip on it that he uses to hold it open.

“J-Just take them off,” you gasp, squirm when his mouth moves towards your clit, lapping against you. “Please,” you cry.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook tortures you with those kitten licks, muted through your panties, until you’re begging him to stop, to take them off and do it right. He loves it, you can tell, dazzling smile peeking up at you every time you tug against his hair, until finally, he’s had enough.

The underwear comes off, dangling uselessly by your ankle, and then the show really begins.

“Wait,” you choke, head falling back against the hood of the car when he finally gets his mouth on you, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. The niggling reminder that this is some stranger’s car he’s eating you out on rings in your brain, and perhaps that’s what makes it more exciting.

His mouth is warm, tongue flicking over your sensitive bud like it’s candy and he needs the sugar. The sounds are so loud and wet, the squelching of your pussy every time he pulls off a pop that resounds throughout the garage. He pampers your clit for what seems like hours, switching the movements of his tongue every time he gets the chance until you’re quivering.

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

Fingers slide up your thigh, featherlight, as they reach your drenched cunt. They drag over your lips, and you mewl, feeling the muscles jump and tighten at his touches. “Jungkook, please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, but it’s hard and everytime you move, you feel the sweat on your skin weigh you down, glued to the metal beneath you.

The first finger breaches you, just the tip of his index slowly wiggling inside. You muffle a moan in your palm, and Jungkook pulls away with a huff. “No hiding,” he warns, slowly lowering back to your cunt with a stern glare. You nod, but can’t help it when his second finger pushes its way in and you bite down on your knuckles.

“Oh,” You sob, body quivering as he begins scissoring his two fingers inside you. With your attention focused on the digits sheathed inside you, he pulls away from your clit, bestowing one final kiss against it that has your foot kicking out wildly. “Th-there.” His other hand catches your palm in his, presses it against the metal by your head.

Jungkook smiles, curls his fingers around until he finds the soft spot inside you that turns you to jelly. “There we go, beautiful,” he purrs, pushing himself to his full height, leaning over your trembling form. “So sweet for me,” he sighs, licks his lips like he’s remembering your taste.

“I'm gonna,” you choke, become hypnotized by the dark cloud in his gaze, the arrogant smirk on his lips. He curls his fingers, palm brushing against your abandoned clit. The touch makes you jump, nerves tingling.

“Cum for me,” he encourages, silky tone swarming your head as your pleasure slowly washes over you. It’s probably the most relaxed orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, his low voice and delighted eyes guiding you through it, until your entire body clenches, dissolving in a puddle of contentment. Your arousal surges around his fingers, trickling down onto the metal.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you pant, overwhelmed from the touches and the kisses. Jungkook’s smile gets swallowed by your greedy mouth, desperate for more kisses now that he’s made you feel like this.

The kisses only placate him for so long, and when he presses his body against yours, there’s an awfully hard cock that slides against your dripping cunt. “Think you can go again, gorgeous?” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping at the skin on the way down. You nod, eyes falling shut at the warmth you feel in your bones.

Jungkook kisses your neck one last time, before leaning back once more to line himself up.

This was a scene straight from your teenage fantasies, a dripping, shirtless Jungkook at full mast between your thighs, looking at you so lovingly. It makes your heart thunder, imagining how long you could have been doing this if you weren’t both so stupid. As if reading your thoughts, Jungkook rubs a palm over your thigh, eyebrow quirked. You nod his concern away, squirm closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook sighs, moving his hands to your hips as he slowly pushes in. His fingers, bless their intentions, could have never prepared you for the size of Jungkook’s cock, thick and veiny as it pushes inside. You whimper, clawing at the hands on your waist that stop you from impaling yourself on it fully. “Waited so long for this.”

“Then fucking do it,” you beg, nearly pass out when he shoves in harshly at your tone. “J-Jung—“

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, jostles you until you’re flush against his cock, clit brushing against his pelvis. Your back arches, and Jungkook slips his arm around you, the other lingering on your waist.

Every subtle shift has him brushing along your swollen clit, and you sob at the sensation, begging him to move. He complies, changes his stance to make it easier, and finally begins thrusting into your throbbing pussy.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes zeroed in on where the two of you meet. You would have looked too, if your body hadn’t felt so completely boneless beneath him, the grinding of his cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “So pretty and mine.”

“Yours,” you choke, heart swelling in your chest at his words. It’s almost animalistic, the way he ducks down to bite at your neck, like some animal staking its claim, and you like it. You like it because it’s all you ever dreamed of for so long. “Faster, Kook,” you urge, wrapping your arms around him.

He does as you say, slow and careful thrusts transitioning into a fast piston that would have had you bouncing out of his reach if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. “Fuck,” he chokes, lost in the way you clench around him, lips dragging against his cock with each thrust. “Baby,” he grunts, sweat trailing down his temple, eyes furrowed shut. Eventually, his head falls into the crook of your neck, his weight pressing down on you uncomfortably, subtle ridges on the hood making you ache. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. “All I ever wanted,” he gasps.

You could cry, right now and he’d pull out right away, big heart fretting over your emotional well-being. Which is exactly why you hold your emotions in, let yourself get fully immersed in the feeling of Jungkook pounding you against some stranger’s car and not the inevitable emotional crash you’ll have later.

He fucks like he’s waited all his life for this, and you guess he sort of has if what he’s saying is true. You have no doubt it is, and when his lips suck a mark against your neck, you feel like you’re in heaven. “Almost,” you pant, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Jungkook nods, his hair tickling your jaw and neck, as he picks up the pace. Your cunt swallows him up every single time, suctions him in until he’s shaking, and so are you.

It can only last for so long, your heart and body eventually reaching their peak, and you unravel. His arms are there to catch you, to pick up the pieces and hold you together. You want to cry, you really do, and when the coil in your stomach snaps, you finally do. “I love you,” you sob, and Jungkook shudders, glances at your tear-struck face to push himself off.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, grinds his cock against your spasming folds one last time, and comes mid-thrust, cum spurting inside you. He holds you, just like you knew he would, as you come down from your highs, hot breath fanning across your skin.

You feel warm, loved, and in love, body trembling in sensitivity afterwards. He’s pulled out since, soothingly rubbing a hand against your side. You’d like to say you wouldn’t be anywhere else, but one shift reminds you of where you are.

“Shit,” you groan, taking in your surroundings before letting your head fall back against the hood. Jungkook hums, round eyes looking your way. “We really just confessed and had sex on some stranger’s car.”

Jungkook snorts, leans away just the slightest to look you in the eye. He’s lost in thought, chocolate irises swirling as they drink you in. “Say thanks to Taehyung,” he finally says.

You roll your eyes, and when you shift beneath him, your sweaty skin sticks uncomfortably against the metal hood. “Yeah, let me thank Taehyung for dating me for three days and awakening your crush,” you huff sarcastically, resigning yourself to your new life stuck against the hood of some classic automobile from the 50s. Jungkook laughs, tucks himself back into his underwear. “Thanks Taehyung, for your noble sacrifice ten years ago that allowed me to fuck Jungkook on some stranger’s car—“

Jungkook hums, snuggles closer to you. “Tae’s car.”

“—after confessing our—Taehyung’s car?” You shriek, sitting up with the strength of three football players, Jungkook toppling off you. “Oh my god. No.” Jungkook rubs his elbow where he knocked it against the hood, looks at you with solemn eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawls over his features. “No,” you gasp, mortification crawling up your spine. “We didn’t.”

He tugs you off the car, tugs your skirt down when you wobble on unsteady heels. “Yup,” he says, pops the end of the word like a child. “Say hello to Taehyung’s new car!” He exclaims, patting the hood you just defiled. “Straight from the car auction he went to this morning,” he beams.

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands when you finally spot the puddles of... something on the black hood. “This is terrible.”

Jungkook ignores you, wipes up the mess with some napkins from his takeout bag, but there’s already some that's dried, only fueling your mortification. “Not like he’ll find out,” he shrugs, then narrows his eyes at you. “Or will he?”

“No!” You stutter, carefully rounding the car as if inspecting it for any more signs of the treacherous things you and Jungkook did on or around it. “I-I won’t tell him.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook teases, settles on that rolling stool and pushes himself towards you. There’s a hand easing itself around your waist, tugging you between open legs. Still in shock, your hands flutter around his neck, muscle memory causing you to immediately begin massaging the skin there.

Jungkook sighs into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Too bad Jimin’s not here,” he sighs, and you visibly see his nose grow in arrogance. 

“What? Why should Jimin be here?” You ask, pushing your fingers against the knots in his neck. 

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed, one-eyed glare. He scoffs, “maybe you are as dumb ad Taehyung says.” And then, “hey!” when you tug his ear. He isn’t upset, just tugs you closer until his face is buried against your stomach. “You know country folk like him marry on the spot right?”

“What are you even saying,” you huff, burying your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back to properly look at him. “Why do you care who Jimin marries?” He doesn’t bother answering. 

Instead, Jungkook sighs into the touch, an easygoing smile thrown your way, and for a moment you forget about the trauma Taehyung will have when he inevitably learns about this. “This is the life.”

[skiller0dani]

Sinful | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | sub!spencer x bau!reader requests info summary | when spencer decides to let the witness flirt with him, you decide to have some fun of your own with derek. it becomes obvious that it's a mistake.

this was sitting in my drafts unedited!! I'm still trying to finish up Amortentia part 2 & the Ethan AU. They'll be up I promise, until then.. enjoy Sub!Spencer! This is my first real stab at a dom reader so I hope I did okay. I've read fics about face slapping as a kink and I just wanna let you guys know that I am not comfortable writing that so I probably never will include that.

Also I hate saliva so I probably wont write about spitting either. Sorry lololol

thanks @imagining-in-the-margins for the inspiration! (was totally inspired by "messy lessons" if you guys haven't read it...you should!)

At first you doubted he knew what he was even doing.

At first.

Maybe he wasn't trying to get in her pants, and maybe he wasn't trying to lead her on. But he was still letting her shamelessly flirt with him. You'd been with the FBI for years and made the silly mistake of assuming that working in the same department as your boyfriend would make things easier on you. Being able to see him everyday is a definite plus, seeing him in danger every time you're in the field is definitely not a plus. Watching a busty blonde witness flirt with him is certainly not a plus, especially when he lets her throw herself into his chest. Supposedly "distraught" but you see the cheeky smile peeking at the corner of her lips.

You see the thing about Spencer that nobody except for you knows, is that deep down he's a very naughty boy. The little mischievous glint in his eyes when his eyes meet yours from across the interrogation room proved that. You were professional however, so you were forced to stand by and watch him comfort her. Bitch.

"C-Could you get me some water?" Her voice was shaky, you still didn't buy it.

"Sure, Doctor-"

"Agent Y/L/N if you wouldn't mind?" Spencer's much more dominating voice cut through yours. Your eyebrows flew up as you shared a millisecond stare down with him. You could see the playful look in his eyes, flashed by the brattiest smile you'd ever seen grace his lips. Your lips stretched in a tight smile before you nodded and turned out of the room.

When JJ joined you near the kitchenette she opened her mouth to say something, but once she'd noticed you white knuckle gripping the faucet handle she changed her mind. She continued with whatever she was doing, not looking at you. It was a tense few minutes until she turned out of the room. While everyone in the BAU knew you and Spencer were together, it was easy for them to forget seeing as you never acted as a couple at work. For obvious reasons. Only in moments of danger, like when Spencer's helicopter went down and there were panicked tears streaming down your cheeks did they remember that you were in fact, together.

Apparently your usually good boy seems to have forgotten who he belongs to as well. The sight you returned to left tendrils of anger licking at the pit of your stomach.

"Oh really, that is so cool! I'll bet you're so strong!" The witness had perked up considerably since you'd left the room. Her hand reached up to curl at his bicep, and he didn't stop her. What a brat. Spencer sat next to her rather than across from her at the table, presumably to console her. Spencer beamed at her praise, an action you did not miss.

"Yeah, actually FBI agents are required to pass a variety of physical exams to insure they're physically healthy enough to chase down an unsub if need be-"

"Here's your water." Your voice was tense and you had to resist the urge to "accidentally" spill the water on her as you set the glass down. You didn't meet Spencer's eye as he stood to follow you out of the room. You could see the naughty façade fading as soon as he'd left the room.

"Y/N?" His voice was soft and his big brown eyes wide when you turned to glance at him. Your heart melted at the sight of those sad puppy dog eyes but you're not going to give in when baby boy broke so many rules.

"Shush." Is all you say, your voice sharp. You're not going to hide the fact that you're mad at him. And you're going to stay mad at him, no matter how cute he is.

"Yes ma'am." Spencer mumbles as he follows you towards the room Hotch is waiting in with the whiteboard. You try your hardest to focus on whatever Hotch is saying but all you can think about is that stupid witness pressing her chest up against Spencer, and the fact that he was practically bathing in the attention she gave him. You hated the fact that Spencer was getting exactly what he wants, he lives for your punishments. In a way, punishing him was also rewarding him but it was rewarding for you too.

After vaguely remembering Hotch asking for Spencer, you watched him scramble forward. You don't miss the fact that he nearly stops to ask for your permission to do so, you have him trained so well. A smile quirks at the corner of your mouth and you almost feel like forgiving him until Hotch speaks again.

"Reid, I want you to take Allison Calloway home..." he lists off where the rest of you will go but at that point you're no longer listening. You hear Hotch pair your name with Derek, which sparks a wicked idea in your head. He's having Spencer take the witness home? Is the world punishing you? You see Spencer steal one nervous glance at you before rushing to get Allison. You tongue your cheek before reluctantly following Derek out of the precinct.

//

You and Derek were apparently instructed by Hotch to go investigate the second crime scene, where a young man with his hands missing was found earlier this morning. You peek at Derek out of the corner of your eye, Derek is one of your close friends and he knows more than he should about yours and Spencer's...extracurricular activities. He seems to be in a good mood today, and he's unlikely to think anything of it. He'll definitely tell Spencer about it, which is sort of what you're hoping for. While this is hardly the place for you to "come on" to Derek, you're willing to do it. Spencer needs a taste of his own medicine.

"Odd, that the unsub removes the hands but repositions the watch around the victims ankle." Derek muses, his hand coming up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. Luckily the officers sent to patrol the crime scene are nowhere nearby. You circle Derek, trying to formulate the perfect sentence in your mind. It can't be too much, but definitely enough for him to inform Spencer. Derek is used to more lewd phrases coming from yours and Penelope's mouth, so surprising him enough to tattle to your boyfriend will be a challenge.

It can't be anything that would hurt Spencer however.

Derek views Spencer as his little brother and would never hurt him, and you wouldn't want to hurt Spencer either this is all in good filthy fun. It has to be a little risky, but not so risky that Derek would prefer keeping it from Spencer to protect him. If its too much Derek will approach you directly about it which would be humiliating and would entirely miss the point. This is a very delicate operation.

"Oh Derek, have you been working out?" You decide to take the easy route, adding a dash of sultry to your tone.

"Occasionally." Derek doesn't turn his head towards you, you haven't quite captured his attention yet.

"Firm is a good look on you." You tease, you'll need to ease him into it because he's going to have the wind knocked out of him when you finally lay it on him.

"Easy girly, you're venturing into dangerous territory." You hear the lilt to his tone letting you know that he's joking. You need to push it further.

"No I'm serious," you need to tread very carefully. You don't want to ruin a friendship you still want to keep, "it's a really good look on you."

Derek turns to you then, an eyebrow raised as he watches you trail your eyes down his body. While Derek isn't a bad looking guy, he doesn't even come close to comparing to your beautiful boy. Spencer is easily the cutest and sexiest man you've ever had the privilege of standing in the same room with.

"What's with you?" He asks, keeping the smile on his face so he doesn't alert you that he's concerned. You're on the right track but if you leave it here Derek will let it go. You need to drop that mini bomb on him, just a little more. You trail a finger down his shoulder, towards his bicep.

"Nothing, just admiring the view. The big, strong, sexy, view. What I wouldn't give to have you in bed Derek Morgan." There's the bomb. Your words have an immediate effect over him. The half-lidded sultry look in your eyes is enough for him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Usually he can tell if you're joking but now he really can't tell. He's speechless, which doesn't happen to Derek Morgan very often.

"Y/N..."

"Call me if you wanna take me up on my offer." You send a wink at him before turning to head towards the black SUV. That should be enough for him to tattle.

//

When you return to the precinct, you watch with pleased eyes as Derek immediately pulls Spencer into a side room. Derek briefly glances at you, and you send him a smile but do not receive on in return. You don't think anything of it, Derek will get over it eventually with an explanation. You watch carefully as Derek begins to speak and an unreadable expression crosses onto Spencer's face, you expect he's just absorbing what Derek is telling him. Any minute now that look will cross onto his face, those dark eyes that warn you that you've officially annoyed him.

Derek keeps speaking, you can see his lips moving. What are they talking about? It shouldn't be taking this long. You're too far away to really make out their faces, so you subtly sneak closer when Spencer's eyes flash to meet yours and you gasp. There is no anger on his face, no playful annoyance, instead you see pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Derek tries to reach out to grab Spencer but the door to that side room opens and Spencer comes rushing out of it. Not bothering a side glance at you as he makes his hasty exit.

"I was only kidding." You explain quickly as Derek emerges. He doesn't look amused.

"It was too far Y/N. He's crushed." Derek snaps, brushing past you. Immediately you turn and exit the precinct, quickly finding Spencer tucked away in a secluded corner. He's sitting against the building, his head tucked into his knees and the absolute worst part is the fact that he's softly crying. You kneel in front of him in an instant, although you're not sure what to even say.

"Oh baby boy, I was only kidding. I didn't mean it, I said it because you flirted with that blonde witness!" You explain in a hurry, trying to reach out to take him in your arms. Spencer resists, instead lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are glossy and red rimmed, "kidding?"

"Yes precious, I was kidding."

"But Derek is more...attractive then I am." Spencer whimpers softly. You reach forward to firmly grasp Spencer's chin, ensuring he looks at you.

"Spencer Walter Reid you look at me," You order, and hesitantly Spencer lifts his watery eyes to meet yours. "There is not a single person who is more attractive then you are, you are flawless."

"But deep down you want Derek-"

"I was kidding Spencer. I only want you, my good boy." You purr, and you see a shiver run down his spine. You lean forward to press your lips to his before your thumbs come up to swipe away your tears.

"I'm not a good boy, I don't deserve it." Spencer whimpers once you help him stand up. Even though you're looking up at him, it's still very clear that you're the one in charge. "I flirted with Allison."

"You're right, you haven't been very good have you? I'm sure you'll make it up to me in the hotel room." You smile pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek. He nods immediately, it warms your heart.

"I love you." Spencer whispers after he catches your hand as you're about to open the door. You press a kiss to his palm, "I love you precious."

//

You could feel the nerves rolling off of him when you opened the door to your shared hotel room. The door shut with a soft click as you kicked off your shoes. Spencer remained at the hotel room door curled in on himself and wringing his hands together. You have to hide the smile as you shed your jacket from your shoulders, beginning to reach for your jeans when you pause. You take a seat on the bed, watching Spencer eye you carefully from his spot by the door.

"Come here." There isn't a question in your tone, it's more of an order. An order Spencer hastily obeys as he scrambles to stand before you.

"Undress me." You instruct, and Spencer kneels immediately to grab at the hem of your shirt. He carefully lifts the fabric off your body and tosses it aside before reaching around your body to unclip your bra. "No touching baby boy, you were naughty remember?" You snapped, and you saw him turn his head down in shame before turning his attention towards your pants. He unbuttons your jeans and helps pull them down your legs. Spencer's breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on your clothed pussy.

"Like what you see precious? Maybe if you were a good boy and didn't let that woman run her hands all over you, maybe I'd let you touch." You purr watching the disdain in his eyes when he realizes what his punishment is going to be.

"Tell me the truth baby boy, did you let her touch you in the car?"

He nods, but that's not good enough for you. You reach down to roughly palm him through his slacks.

"I said did you let her touch you?" You punctuate every word with a gentle squeeze around his cock. Finally, Spencer seems to find his voice.

"Y-Yes!"

"Where? Show me where she marked what's mine." You hiss, not even attempting to disguise your frustration. Spencer lifts one hand to his chest and trails it down his stomach, dangerously close to the hem of his pants before thankfully he stops.

"You let her touch you, this close to your cock?" You snap, tearing your hand away from him.

"I-I'm sorry!" He stammers, his eyes wide and his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. Boy does he look pretty on his knees before you. Not pretty enough for mercy however. There's a pleading look in his eyes, and a desperation. A desperation to please you.

"Make it up to me." You snap and as soon as the words leave your lips, Spencer's fingers are curling around the waistband of your underwear and tearing them off your body.

"Y-Yes ma'am." You lean back on your elbows as Spencer lowers his head between your legs, his eyes flickering to yours briefly. With a nod of your head, Spencer is delving between your legs with the enthusiasm of sex deprived teenager. Your head tosses back immediately as you feel his tongue licking thick stripes over your entrance. He continues to lap at you, his tongue teasing your entrance before he returns to his heavy licking. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his curls and pulling his head closer.

"Just like that, you're being such a good boy." You praise through breathy moans, and Spencer can feel his chest swell with pride. He loves being your good boy. But he isn't your baby boy all the time, sometimes, with a bit of coaxing, he becomes daddy. Spencer reaches up to prod a finger at your entrance before he's sinking in knuckle deep, his mouth curling around your clit. Spencer pumps on finger, to stretch you a little before slowly working a second finger into your suffocatingly tight heat.

"Yes Spencer, don't stop." You beg, feeling yourself climbing closer to reaching the peak, especially when his tongue flicks expertly against your clit while his fingers pump steadily into you. "Oh God, my good boy-" You praise again, and this time Spencer moans against you. Your toes curl as the vibrations send a course of pleasure through you, you've got to make him do that again.

"Do you like being my good boy Spencer? My good, obedient boy. So eager to please me, to make me feel good. And you do, you make me feel so good because you're such a good, good, boy." Your heavy praise causes Spencer to release a low groan, and the feeling is enough to launch you over the edge. Spencer keeps pumping is fingers into you, his tongue swirling soft circles over your clit to help you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped jerking, you finally pull him off you.

"I forgive you precious, but unfortunately I still have to punish you." You inform him as you pull him back up to his feet. You hear him whine as you push his chest to lay him back against the bed.

"Do you have to?"

"Are you talking back to me baby boy?"

"N-No!" He squeaks instantly, his cheeks painted red. You stand over him, laying beneath you and you can't fight the soft moan that escapes your lips upon seeing him. His hair is disheveled from you raking your fingers through his, his brown eyes are wide and innocent as he looks up at you, and his cheeks are dusted such a beautiful shade of pink.

"Take off your clothes precious, I want to see all of you." You instruct, and you love the shy look on his face as he reaches up to remove his shirt. You let your eyes shamelessly roam his body as he slowly exposes more skin to you. Despite having been together for a few years now, Spencer is still incredibly insecure. Deep down he's worried you'll grow tired of him. Worried that you'll seek out other men despite being with him. Spencer is worried he's not enough to keep you interested. Which is wildly untrue, it's already been over 3 years and if anything you become more interested as time goes on.

"So beautiful baby boy, your body is a work of art." You breathe under your breath. Spencer blushes even deeper then he was before as he nervously fidgets underneath. You swing your legs on either side of his waist, your palms on the bed next to his head. "Your punishment, precious boy," your hands drift to his that are resting on your hips, "is that you can't touch me." You finish, moving his hands to the bed.

Spencer's eyes widen as his head drops back. A whine escapes his lips, but like a good boy, he grasps tightly at the sheets. You reach between your bodies to grasp his cock, pressing the head against your entrance before you teasingly lower onto him. Spencer's eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of your velvety walls around him- it's almost too much for the poor boy. It doesn't help that it's been a few weeks since you two last had sex, meaning you're tighter then you normally are. In fact you're so tight that Spencer can't even breathe properly while he's stretching you open.

"Oh baby boy, you feel absolutely wonderful. Your cock stretches me open so good." You purr, your hands landing on his chest for leverage so you can bounce on him faster. Spencer whimpers softly, the feeling is overwhelming, you can tell he's struggling to contain himself. Your hair drifts down your back when you throw your head back, his cock hitting places deep inside you.

"Getting close," You moan and Spencer knows that's his cue to reach down and begin rubbing circles over your clit. As soon as his thumb makes contact you're moaning loudly, your free hand digging into his hair to hold onto tightly. "Yes Spencer, yes." The phrase becomes a chant you repeat in your head over and over again. Spencer continues to rub you, desperate to help you find your release. When you slam down on him again, his cock hits the place deep inside you that makes your toes curl. You cum instantaneously, your body nearly falling top of Spencer's from the sheer force of it. Spencer's arms come up to steady you, offering shallow thrusts into you to chase his own release.

"Y/N...c-can I?" His voice is wrought, and you smile weakly.

"Yes precious, you can cum." As soon as you give him permission, he's cumming in hot gushes into you, his face buried in your neck. You run your hand down his back as his heart rate slows back to normal, and Spencer's arms stay curled around your waist.

"Spence?"

"Hm?" You can hear the lazy drawl in his voice that lets you know he's getting very sleepy.

"Don't ever break my rules again, or your punishment will be much worse."

"Yes ma'am." You press a kiss to his lips before pulling off him, and curling yourself into his side.

[yutahoes]

All About You

pairing: nerdy! Yuta Nakamoto x rich! bratty! Y/N (I hope I made justice) other characters: Johnny as your twin brother, Taeyong as your bestfriend word count: 4.2k words genre: fluff summary: He’s supposed to teach you Math, why is he teaching you to love? warnings: cursing, Y/N has a bad temper, cheating, cringe  Some scenes are inspired from ‘It Started with a Kiss’ 

a/n: Based on this ask. I’m sorry anon, this took such a long time to write. 😭 I just feel unmotivated to write and the week had been such a whirlwind of emotions. I’ve also been so busy, it’s so crazy. 

Also, this is my thank you post for reaching another milestone of this writing blog. I never expected that I’ll past 500 followers but now, it’s in 1.5k. Thank you for following me and reading my works. Please, don’t hesitate to give me feedback even if it’s good or bad. 😅  

"Y/N!" Your eyes shoot open at the sound, groaning when you realize that it was your brother shouting. "You'll be late for school." You hid your head under the pillow to shut down the noise coming from outside the room. "Your car is towed, have you forgotten about it?" Once again, you groaned. "If you don't come down after five minutes, you'll have to take the bus." 

Once again your eyes opened, raising your head. Five minutes? How will you get ready in five minutes? Your allowance is almost gone. You needed to go to school with Johnny or you might end up taking a bus. You were wearing your school uniform when you heard a car engine and saw Johnny leaving already. "Fuck!" You whispered to yourself before taking your bag and hurriedly ran down the stairs. 

"Fuck you, Johnny Seo!" You shouted in annoyance, dragging your school bag outside the gates of your large house while taking your phone out and calling your bestfriend. "Pay for my cab fee." 

“I don’t have any money left,” Taeyong whined. “Just take the bus.” He said before hanging out that pissed you off much more. 

You groaned in annoyance before walking to the bus stop. You will get scolded for being late again if you don’t take the bus. You just wished that no one is going to see you. 

Luckily, the bus isn’t that crowded but there’s only one seat available, beside a guy who had the same uniform as yours. How annoying.

The guy was focused on answering a worksheet, his name written above. Yuta Nakamoto. You heard that name before but instead of pondering over it, you decided to shrug it. You were thankful that he’s the only person from your school who is on the same bus as you or it will be really embarrassing. Once you walked to the gate of the school, you noticed the discipline director on the gates. Shit, you thought, you forgot your necktie. This has detention written all over it. This day is so unlucky. 

A piece of fabric can be felt on your neck followed by the same male student walking before you. The discipline director saw him and scolded him for not wearing a necktie that startled you. You glanced at the necktie hanging on your neck and hastily fixed it before getting inside the campus. Your eyes meeting with the same guy you were sitting next to earlier on the bus. Yuta Nakamoto. 

You shrug while passing him. It's his fault that he's punished like this. Why would he give his necktie to you? When you arrive at your locker, you exchange the worn-out necktie with the spare you have in your locker. "Hey, did you study for our Math exam?" Taeyong greeted that made you roll your eyes. He knew you never study for anything. 

"You know everyone in school, right?" He's such a social butterfly, everyone is his friend. You handed him the necktie, "Return this to Yuta Nakamoto."

"You know Yuta?" But you didn't answer him and started walking the opposite way to your first class in English. Johnny's eyes were on you as you entered the class you shared with him, raising your middle finger as you sat down on your chair and slept on the desk. 

The bell rang. English is done. Lifelessly, you walked to the other side of the building to attend your most loathed class of all. Math. 

Everyone was busy reading notes as you sat next to Taeyong. "Did you study?" You asked and he nodded, grinning. "Just open your paper." He groaned and you gave him a glare before the teacher came in with papers in his hand. He asked everyone to keep their notes and handed out the worksheets. 

Your head was aching at all the numbers and letters on the paper. Your eyes glanced at Taeyong's paper, lightly elbowing him to show his answer. The teacher passed your table and Taeyong lightly glanced at his paper then glared at you. 

"Let me see." You whispered when the teacher passed your table. He opened his paper, lightly glancing around as you try to copy what is written. Someone called for the teacher while you were busy copying the numbers from Taeyong's paper then someone called your name. 

"Copying, Ms. Y/N?" the teacher asked that made you turn to him. "Thank you for informing me, Mr. Nakamoto." Nakamoto? You lightly glanced at the guy in glasses next to the teacher. Of course, it’s him. 

You were brought to the detention room after class. An hour of doing nothing. What’s more annoying is the fact that you were given a failing grade in Math already. There’s nothing you can do but hiss in annoyance. 

When you got home, you had an earful from your grandfather about how you’re such a disappointment to your mom and even comparing you to the perfect Johnny. “Get Y/N a personal tutor.” the older commanded your twin brother, “Maybe she’ll stop cheating in exams.” 

You were annoyed. It’s a one-time event. This is your first time copying from Taeyong since you really didn’t know about the Math exam. Why are they all acting like you’re a serious offender? This is all that guy’s fault for snitching on you. 

The next day was more annoying because you came face to face with Nakamoto Yuta, the snitch, who even had the guts to sit in front of you. “He will be your tutor,” Johnny claimed that made you wide-eyed. He’s kidding. “Grandpa already agreed to it. He said if you pass Math, you’ll get back your car.” You glared before sighing. You needed the car back, going on the bus is a hassle and Johnny isn’t even helping you at all. 

Even if you hated and wanted to ruin this guy’s life, he’s your only choice to getting what you want. 

From your usual seat, you were always transferred to sit beside Yuta as per your grandfather’s wishes. If he’s this influential in school, why are you even bothering to study? Yuta is always with you every class and you were annoyed at how he seemed like a bodyguard, making sure that you attend classes, rather than a tutor. He’s quiet, you have to give him that. Always buried in his books. You believe he doesn’t even know your name. 

That was until you pushed all his buttons. 

It’s not because you’re dumb but school is unmotivating for you so you never put in any effort into your subjects especially Math. “You got this wrong again, Y/N.” Yuta exclaimed while pointing at your answer. Wow, he knew your name. “I’ve been explaining this for hours. Are you stupid?” 

“What did you call me?” 

“Stupid,” he said while looking straight at you. “Even a second-grader would know how to multiply numbers.” You hissed before taking the paper and started answering the question properly. Yuta chuckled when you returned the paper to him, checking your answer. “You have such a bad temper.” 

“Piss me off more and you might get the worst temper ever.” You warned but he only smirked that annoyed you more. “Annoying loser!” you muttered under your breath. 

"That's the reason why you don't have any friends." He really is here to annoy you, isn't he? And you have a friend, Lee Taeyong. Pissed off, you pulled the first thing you saw from him, his glasses, then threw them on the ground before stepping on them. 

Johnny's booming voice can be heard in the library and you know, you're in deep trouble already. 

------

"You broke your tutor's glasses?" your grandfather asked, voice rising. You rolled your eyes, poking the beef on your plate before cutting it so small. “Apologize to him tomorrow.” 

You stared at him in surprise. You? Apologize? To that nerd? He started it! “I won’t, just buy him new glasses.” 

“I already did,” Johnny whispered, drinking his juice. 

“See?” You smiled cheekily, “Problem solved.” 

The older man sighed before dropping down his utensils that startled your twin brother. “You’re hopeless, Y/N.” He claimed while glaring at you. “If you don’t apologize to Mr. Nakamoto, I’ll cut off your allowance in half. And we’ll pretend that the discussion about your car didn’t happen.” What? You gasped but he only stood up, making Johnny sigh. 

“Y/N, please be nice to Yuta. He’s been through a lot.”   

-------

You have no choice but to wake up extra early and come to school with Johnny. You were napping on your desk when you felt a thud beside you. Yuta is here. “Is that really Yuta?” You overheard your classmates asked that made you curious. When you raise your head to look at him, you were startled at his shining, glassy eyes staring at you as well. Before you could say anything, a female classmate called his name. “Yuta, do you want to eat tteokbokki with us later?” 

You sighed before taking out your book, tapping a pencil on the cover. “Yeah sure,” Yuta claimed and you inwardly smile, no tutor lesson today. “Do you want to come, Y/N?” The girls were looking uncomfortable so you just shook your head, claiming that tteokbokki is disgusting which made Yuta roll his eyes. “Then I’ll just come to your place later for the tutor session.” A groan escaped your lips. What the hell? 

It was late afternoon when the maid called for you, saying that Yuta is looking for you. Johnny welcomed him and even claimed that he asked the maids to prepare the garden for the session. You were seated in front of him, looking uninterested, books sprawled in front of you as a tower of cupcakes and tea was on another table. “Your house is on another level. Must be nice living in a house like this.” 

You smirked before trying to substitute x with the equation. “It’s nice because I’m always alone.” 

“Why?” He asked, “Johnny seemed so cool. Your grandfather, I met him once, he looks kind.” 

You giggled, multiplying both sides of the equation. “I’m not like them.” You whispered. “I’m stupid and I have such a bad temper.” You focused on the numbers in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Yuta whispered, putting down his pen. “That was insensitive of me to say those things and I understand why you hate me.” You lightly glance at him. What’s with the turn of events? You should be apologizing for breaking his glasses. “But I want to be your friend, Y/N.” 

“My friend?” 

“I don’t have lunch plans. Whenever Taeyong or Johnny leaves you during lunch, I want to sit beside you.” You only stared in curiosity. What is he saying? “Let’s be friends, Y/N.” He held out his hand and you saw your grandfather watching the two of you from afar with a smile on his face. Hastily, you took his hand and shook it, smiling at him. Maybe your grandfather will return your allowance to normal. 

The maid went out with a large bowl which made Yuta smile while thanking her. “I brought tteokbokki. Do you want some?” He asked but you shook your head, giving him a disgusted look. “Just try one.” He poked one tteok covered in orange sauce, showing it to you. “Just say ah.”  

How weird. But you opened your mouth to taste this almighty tteokbokki he loved. It was so chewy in your mouth, the taste of spiciness and sweetness playing in your mouth. “How was it?” 

“Disgusting.” 

You didn’t realize how lonely it is to eat alone if not for Yuta. Whenever Taeyong would eat lunch quickly because of council duties or Johnny with his radio show, Yuta would always sit beside you and offer you dessert. He would ask you if you have trouble understanding something in class when you’re seated next to each other in almost all classes you have. 

“Maybe they’re dating.” You overheard in class once, female classmates looking at you who just entered the room. “Why would Yuta reject you if not?” She was talking to a girl seated in front, touching her hair.  

Another girl came to your table. “Are you and Yuta dating?” 

What? You and Yuta? A chuckle escaped your lips. “Of course not, who would fall in love with that nerd?” You saw how the girl seated glared at you followed by a thump beside you. Yuta laid his head on the desk and the girl scrambled back to her seat just as the teacher came. You shrugged. 

During lunchtime, Taeyong immediately left for a meeting in the council. But unlike any other day, Yuta didn’t sit beside you. It was weird. He was consistent these past few days. Why would he suddenly change? But once again, you shrugged. It’s not even lonely to sit alone. 

You waited the whole afternoon for him to come to your tutor session but he's a no-show which startled you. He never misses a day even if he has part-time jobs to do. And you need him now because tomorrow is your exams in Math, the make and break of your car. 

From Taeyong, you found out that he works part-time in a coffee shop near the school. He looked startled when you came in, even ordering a lot since you'll be studying. Yuta only laughed before taking your order. 

The cake looks unappetizing after you kept poking your fork in it, annoyed at how you cannot understand the equation. Why are there letters in Math? It should just be numbers. "You're substituting it wrong," Yuta mumbled before placing his tray on the table and taking your extra pencil. He leaned closer to write on your paper but your gaze was on him. 

You've been seated next to each other but this is the first time you saw him this close. He's handsome. A boyish charm that you cannot see in anyone else. When he turned to look at you, you blinked in surprise. He's so handsome. His red lips, the high nose, his glassy eyes. "Did you get it?" 

A heavy breath followed by a shake of head, to return your focus to the equation and not the image of Yuta. "How did you get this answer?" You asked, looking at the answer which is way different than yours. Are you getting stupider? 

He sighed heavily then glanced at his wristwatch. "Wait for me. I'll just finish my shift." And you nodded. That was your goal all along. 

But instead of doing some practice exercises, you were focused on Yuta serving drinks. He looks like an invisible person in school but a really charming man outside. Whenever he looks at you, you look away from him and pretend to be busy in your workbook. Why are you so worked up because of him? This is crazy! Yuta is making you crazy. 

He's a nerd. He's annoying. He's such a know-it-all. "Yuta doesn't like you, Y/N." you whispered to yourself then gasped when you realized you said it out loud. To your annoyance, Yuta just passed by your side with an empty tray. Did he hear that? You hope not. 

It was the fifth equation when Yuta sat in front of you, yawning and stretching his arms. He was done with the job and had some break before he had to go to the gas station for his second part-time job. "You have a lot of jobs." You claimed while he checked your work. "Do you need that much money?" 

"I have to pay for my tuition." 

"Why would you go to a private academy if you can't even pay for it?" 

Yuta put down your workbook, showing the mistakes and where you missed the question. "My parents met in that academy so it means a lot to my mom for me to graduate in the same alma mater as her." They did? Then Yuta might be rich. "My dad is filthy rich. She got pregnant but his parents don't want the child. My mom left him." 

"That's just tragic."

Yuta smiled. "You know, it’s the typical rich boy - poor girl love story. It will just end that way." You glanced at him before pursing your lips. "Just try finishing three questions. It's the exams tomorrow, you need rest." Once again, he yawned. "And I have to walk you back home."

You stopped after one equation seeing how he almost fell asleep while waiting for you. He might be tired and you don't want him to be late for the next job. You promised you'll do the remaining exercises at home and show him tomorrow then hailed a cab so he won't have to walk you home. Just to be sure, you promised to message him when you arrive home. 

But you never did. Never messaged him, never answered the remaining problems. All that's running in your mind is him. Yuta Nakamoto. He's not bad yet he's not great either. But something about him is piquing your curiosity. Something about him makes you want to be closer to him. 

"Aish!" you shouted. You should be studying. 

--------

You were surprised when the girls were left inside the room and the guys were brought outside for the test. You cannot copy from Yuta. Maybe it was your grandfather’s plan. Surprisingly, the questions aren’t as hard as you thought they would be. Or maybe you just got smarter. The studying to distract your mind from thinking about Yuta has paid off. 

Taeyong sighed heavily while seated in front of you during lunch. “I think I’ll fail the exams.” You glance at him in surprise. Do you have a different question as him? You asked him the first question which you remember clearly and you had a debate on what the right answer is. When you showed him the solution, Taeyong just whined in defeat. “Wow, you’re teaching me Math now.” he claimed before tapping his chin. “Should I get Yuta as a tutor as well?” 

“You can’t.” You raised your voice at him. “Yuta is mine.” 

Taeyong snickered. “Speaking of him, did you know that he was sleeping while taking the exam?” That took your attention. “I don’t even know if he finished the questions. He’s just out of it.” Now, you’re worried. What happened to him? Why did he just sleep when he’s taking exams? 

“How were the exams?” Yuta asked when you met in the library but you only stared at him. “Is it hard?” 

You shook your head. “Did you finish your exam?” He chuckled while nodding, asking if it was Taeyong who told you. “You finished everything?” 

Again, he nodded. “Don’t worry. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” You asked him why but he just smiled. “The exams are now done. We’ll just have to wait if you pass to get your car back.” 

You nodded. “You want a ride?” 

Yuta shook his head, smiling at you. “I’ll have to resign as your tutor, Y/N.” You stared at him in surprise. Wait, why? “I’ll have to take a new job…”

“My grandfather can pay you.” But Yuta shook his head. “Why do you need that much money anyway? Are you dating someone?” He smirked before leaning his back on the chair. He didn’t say anything but the smile in his eyes was enough proof to know that he is indeed dating someone. 

Nakamoto Yuta? The nerd? Someone actually had the nerve to ask him out? Someone actually raced you to ask him out. 

You passed by the tteokbokki shop and ordered some of Yuta’s favorite food. It does taste weird, but addicting. You poked one tteok and put it in your mouth, munching on it with a lot of annoyance. Why doesn’t it taste good now? It tastes good when Yuta was feeding you one. You just wasted money on this food. 

You were annoyed. At Yuta. At this girl. He seemed friendly with everyone, it’s annoying. You sat beside Taeyong in class which surprised your friend. “You broke up with Yuta?” he teased that made you roll your eyes. “I thought he’s yours.” You stepped on his foot, earning a yelp from him which made the whole class look at the two of you, even Yuta. 

When the results came out, you rushed to see if Yuta is still the first-rank student. You were worried the whole time when you found out he slept in class. What if he lost the top rank? He lost his scholarship? You grasped your hands together, wishing that he’ll remain in his spot. When you opened your eyes, in front of the rank one student, you beamed at the sight of his name. Yuta Nakamoto. 

He’s still the rank one even if he slept during the exams. Yuta is really amazing. 

Your phone rang and you answered it without even looking at the caller ID, “Where are you?” Yuta. “Did you see your rank?” Wait, what? “I don’t think your grandfather…” A crowd of students came and you almost lost your balance if not for someone who caught you. Him. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” you called then glanced at your phone. You were just talking to each other. “My rank?” 

He smiled. “Twelfth.” You almost ran to the part of the bulletin board that has the top 10-20 rank list. On the twelfth rank is your name, three spots higher than your twin brother and seven spots higher than your bestfriend. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to hug the grinning Yuta. “You did it, Y/N.” He whispered against your ear, “I’m proud of you.”  

You lightly glanced at him. The first person who told you that he’s proud of you. Now, you had an answer to yourself on why Yuta is someone you cannot shake off. He is the first person who believed in you. 

“I’ll treat you to tteokbokki.” Yuta glanced at you in surprise before you took his hand. 

The old woman greeted you and Yuta was surprised when you greeted her back. “We should eat something you like. I’ll treat you.” But you shook your head, licking the sauce from your fingers. “When did you start eating tteokbokki?” 

You shrugged then dipped the tteok to the red sauce. “Why were you on the first bulletin board? Do you think you’ll get the top rank?” A light kick from you under the table made him wince. 

“I thought you might lose your scholarship.” You claimed before eating tteokbokki again. "You were distracted during the exam so I was worried." He stared at you in surprise before smiling. "Shouldn't you stop all these part-time jobs if you want to keep your scholarship?" 

"I lost the gas station gig," he confessed, poking his fork on the tteokbokki. "I'm worried that you didn't come home that night so I skipped work. Johnny told me that you did when I came to your house but I can't sleep that night." 

That night? You were thinking about him that night. "Eomma said someone might be thinking about me." Shit! "But I guess I'm just worried about you." He's what? "But don't mind it." He shrugged before eating the tteokbokki. 

"You were worried?" 

He rolled his eyes, looking at you deadpan. "Of course. What if you fail your exam? Your grandfather's payment will all go to waste." You just munched on the tteokbokki, chewing loudly. "You're enjoying the tteokbokki so much. I thought it's disgusting." 

You shook your head, stuffing your mouth with the chewy tteok. "When did I say that?" 

Yuta chuckled, wiping your sauce-clad finger with tissue. "You're really charming, aren't you?" You rolled your eyes. Why is he shaking you like this? He's already dating another girl. "Just let me save a little more money before asking you out on a date, hmm?" 

What? You choke on the chewy rice cake, coughing at his statement. Ask you out on a date? "I don't want us to be like my parents' story so I need to work hard to at least reach halfway to your world." He munched on the tteokbokki but your eyes remained on him. "Please wait for me before I can take you out officially." 

Is that why he resigned as your tutor? How did this turn into this? "How are you so sure that I'll wait for you?" 

"You said so yourself, I'm yours." He chuckled and you mentally killed Lee Taeyong. "And I do like you." Shit! He did heard you back in the coffee shop. This is so embarrassing. "Even if you don't like me romantically, just let me take you out on one date." 

"Sure." You claimed, "Since you sound so desperate and I'm such a nice girl to reject you." 

Yuta chuckled. "Of course you are." 

“Yuta.”

“Hmm?”

“Treat me to ice cream after this.”

The guy nodded that made you smirk to yourself. This nerd isn’t so bad at all.