#just a little something i thought of last night

[oceantornadoo]

dubcon, objectification, forced (?) threesome, f!reader

they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

ghost finds you ten months after your divorce, nursing a drink in a shithole of a pub. he doesn’t consider himself a good man, licking the tears on your cheeks when he fucks you for the first time, ignoring your whines of how “it’s been a while” and you’re “too tight.” he doesn’t like to keep birds around longer than a night, but something about how you wrap your leg around him in the morning makes him stay a little longer.

he lets you call him simon after you whine that you “can’t fuck him without knowing his name.” it takes a bit, but you get used to sleeping with someone who isn’t your ex-husband. he calls you bird instead of sweetheart, love instead of darling and after a while, the word honey loses its significance. when simon tells you he’s military, you try to leave his bed, only for him to pull you by the thigh, apologizing with his tongue in your cunt. simon doesn’t date and you aren’t ready for it, content to stay in your respective apartments, living for his occasional half-smiles and usual gruff admonishments. its a bit new to simon - he’s used his camera app more in the past weeks than he has in years. always pictures of you: his cum on your tits, the bruises he leaves on your hips, a rare photo of you sleeping. he even lets you corral him into taking a cheesy mirror picture, his arms dwarfing your waist with his face tucked into your neck, your jawline exposed as you turn to kiss his cheek.

it’s two months later when you promise to cook him a meal for the first time, a sunday roast he hasn’t tasted in years. “better not take too long, bird, ‘m starvin’.” simon murmurs in your ear, hands squeezing your stomach and waist as you fumble with your keys. “i’ve had it slow cooking before i left for yours last night. it’ll put us in a food coma.” you finally put the key in the lock, turning it with force before simon decides to fuck you against the door. he dips to bite your neck, sending you into your apartment giggling, swatting him off you. the weight of your divorce is finally off your shoulders, happy butterflies fluttering in your stomach formed by simon’s continuous presence.

the butterflies die when you see a familiar pair of boots at your door.

“stay here.” you order simon, a change from your usual dynamic. you can’t focus on his reaction, set on edge by the sounds of pots clanging in your kitchen. there’s no point in creeping - he knows you’re here. you turn the corner and there he is - your ex husband. “you’re just in time, sweetheart. nice ‘f you to make a roast.”

john’s standing there like he owns the place, like he knows this kitchen he’s never been in. he’s boiling potatoes on the stove, keeping an eye on the slow cooker timer. he’s even poured himself a fucking drink, a scotch he had to have brought since all you have is wine and simon’s whiskey. all smug and entitled in his civvies, commanding the room like he pays your rent. he's still as handsome as ever, darker eye bags the only indication he's been losing sleep.

“what the fuck are you doing here, john?” john doesn’t answer immediately, instead using a fork to test the potatoes. satisfied, he takes them off the burner and turns to the sink, dumping them out in a prepared strainer. “‘s our anniversary, sweetheart. thought that’s why you made the food.” you can sense simon still in the doorway, his presence unknown to your ex. it gives you strength, a guard dog at your back, and comfort that he’s letting you run this on your own. “our anniversary ended when we signed the papers. i don’t know how you got in here, but you need to leave.” he frowns at you and it almost tugs at your heart strings. your brain conjures images of his coldness and constant distance, and you shut that down real fast. unfortunately, he doesn’t get the memo. john takes a step closer, hands up like he’s approaching a wild animal. “honey, i-“ and that’s when ghost steps out of the darkness.

there’s a long pause. it boosts your ego a bit, showing john you’ve moved on, until the silence is so long that you start to worry. you chance a look at simon’s face and find it confused, not at all the guard dog you thought he was. a glance at john’s reveals the same. you’re about to ask your question when they answer it for you. “captain.” “lieutenant.” “what?”

the transformation happens in an instant. both men straighten to their full heights, wiping any emotion off their faces. their brows furrow as they flex their hands to control their instincts. how could you not see it before? simon only mentioned he was military, but the stamp of the SAS is clear as day. it was in the harsh lines he carried, a companionship with death, not unlike the one john had.

john started first, of course, always having to take control of the situation. “you fuckin’ my lieutenant, sweetheart? miss me that much?” you rolled your eyes at his cruel words, inching closer to simon. “whatever we do doesn’t concern you.” you emphasized the “you”, spitting it out with venom. john hums low, making you nervous. you turn to simon, but he's quiet and calculating, communicating silently with his captain.

"didn't know you had a wife, sir." you answer before john can. "we divorced a year ago." john chimes in. "to the day, actually. she served me on our anniversary." simon looks down at you, the man you thought you knew now gone. his eyes are black pits, targeting you like you're prey. "that's cruel, bird." you sputter, backing into the kitchen cabinets. you walk until your back hits the sink, each man on either side of you. john has his arms crossed and head cocked to the side, like you're about to get chewed out by the school principal. simon looks...no longer human. unrestrained. whatever spark you two had has gone out, replaced by sheer loyalty to his captain. "show the captain what he's been missin', love. y've been starvin' him." he moves at lightning speed, picking you up and dropping you on the island counter, sunday roast long forgotten.

"simon?" he doesn't answer, scarred hands squeezing up and down your body as john watches from behind him, arms crossed and eyes searching. your mind is telling you one thing but your body wants another. some twisted part of your brain reminds you that john came to visit on your anniversary, even though you threw him out a year ago. simon's no better, coaxing your sweater off your torso, leaving you exposed in a lacy bra. your nipples harden and john sees, making a clicking noise with his tongue. "warm 'er up, lieutenant." simon obeys instantly, pulling down the cup of your bra to suck on your nipple. he's ravenous, no sunday roast in sight, and he's decided you're his meal instead. he sucks hard, a calloused hand reaching up to pull your other tit out so you're fully exposed to your two men. he squeezes it with reverence, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sucks hard on the other one, not minding his own teeth.

it's dirty - watching john watch you. you hadn't fucked in the last months before the divorce. he was always too busy, on base or deployed, and you were so angry you couldn't let him near you. now, your ex-husband moves closer, taking in the sight of his lieutenant feasting. "miss me, sweetheart?" you shake your head on instinct. he sighs at your attitude. you're seated on the corner of the island, perfect for john to come up on your side, one large paw making its way towards your jaw, turning you towards him. "say it." you shake your head again. john sticks a thumb into your mouth, pushing against your teeth. you try to force him out, but simon bites your tit, making you gasp and let john in anyways. you suck his thumb defiantly, gazing at him with all the emotions you can't convey.

you look so pretty like this, john decides. laid out for his lieutenant, taking his orders as well as your emotions will allow. he decides to forgive you for your indiscretions with ghost - at least it was with one of his own men. they're practically an extension of himself. john hooks his thumb into the gap between your tongue and teeth and pulls, forcing you right into his space. "i reckon your cunt's nice an' wet, though. should i check? know she's missed me even if you won't admit it." your eyes go wide, giving him an answer he already knew. simon follows orders well, manhandling you into position by yanking off your jeans. there's a wet spot on the light fabric of your underwear. john can practically see your cunt clinging to it, begging for him to say hello.

"want ya to take 'em off y'self, bird." simon's finally speaking, the glaze in his eyes fading. he looks at you, then his captain, and it makes sense. how you're used to being led but refuse it all the same. how you're desperate for affection but won't date him because he's military. you're scarred from the chains of your marriage, so it only makes sense that he's the one you seek out - the opposite of husband material. more dog than human on his worst days. simon stares at you until you follow his command, meekly lifting up your hips as you take off your underwear. your cunt is sopping, in a way it only does when you’re ovulating, practically begging for it. your ex-husband whistles through his teeth like he’s praising a recruit. “knew she’d be happy to see me. hullo, darling.” you can’t find it in you to cringe. john starts running his fingers through your folds, inspecting, and all you can do is stare. stare at the veins in his forearm. stare at simon behind him, eyes trained on his captain’s movements. stare at the counter where your juices start to gather and wonder how the hell you got into this situation.

“pinch ‘er tit an’ watch ‘er flutter.” simon’s callous with his instructions but john follows them anyway, his unoccupied hand reaching up to pinch your nipple. you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, the way your cunt flutters around john’s fingers. he hums thoughtfully. john decides you’ve been good, if not a bit quiet, and presses his thumb against your clit as a reward. he starts rubbing in that pattern that would get you off without fail during your marriage. he fits one finger into you easily as you grip the counter hard, the sudden sensation overwhelming. simon peers over his shoulder like a fucking scientist. “‘f she gets bratty, i pull back the hood til she screams.” like your cunt’s a machine and they have the two pieces of its manual. john’s movements are making you desperate, hips starting to buck against his fingers. he chuckles and adds another, not hiding a smile when you sigh in relief. simon’s hands come to your waist, helping you fuck yourself on price’s fingers. it feels so wrong, having them barely listen to your pleas, and yet being under their watch is the most right you’ve ever felt in your life. that’s what brings your orgasm - not john’s thick fingers on your cunt, his rough thumb in your clit - but two sets of hungry eyes on you, like you’re their last meal. john fucks you through your orgasm, simon not letting you out of his grasp until tears start to form, the embarrassment of your own wetness coming to the front of your mind. john slowly removes his fingers and brings them to simon’s mouth to taste, not satisfied until his lieutenant hums in agreement. the two men turn to you, naked save for your disheveled bra around your waist, somehow making the scene more depraved.

“‘ow ‘bout that roast, love?” simon murmurs gruffly.

good thing john never signed the divorce papers.

[kooktrash]

infrunami ✮ jeon jungkook

summary: you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.

✮ genre/au: friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook

✮ 18.7k

warnings: smut. f2l. slice of life. besties jk and y/n. slight jealousy vibes. idiots to lovers. lot of sexual tension. everyone knows they like each other. for the smut [no protection sorry yall]. heavy makeout. slight dry humping. grinding. doggy style. soft dom vibes jk. whiny y/n. jk gets jealous but never admits it. they both talk to other people bc they’re in denial.

song inspo: infrunami—steve lacy, my kind of woman—mac de marco, no. 1 party anthem—arctic monkeys, love between—kali uchis

Friendships in your twenties, you’ve learned, come in various forms.

There were people you’ve known since you were a teen and people you’ve only just met. Some who know everything about you and some who only get a piece of you. You’ve got the ones you meet up with on a random Thursday to run an errand because you haven't seen each other in so long—and you have the ones who seem to always be knocking on your door. Having people who wanted to be around you was one of the best things you’ve ever experienced.

“You’re late.”

He raised his shoulders in a shrug as he picked up the helmet that was strapped onto the back of a black motorcycle, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Part of you gave up on acting upset as you let him slip the helmet over your head. You took his backpack off his shoulders and shoved your things inside before putting it on your back.

“Thanks for the ride,” You hooked a leg over the seat, straddling the bike as you fixed yourself up behind him. The helmet fit snugly around your head and you held him around the waist comfortably, “I’ll buy you a meal.”

“You promise?” Jungkook asked with a teasing smile as he kicked up the stand and brought the engine to life, “I’m craving steak.”

“Just don’t break my pocket,” You patted him softly, checking your phone one last time, “I swear if they don’t give me my car back I’m going to throw a fit.”

“Maybe next time don’t park in a restricted area,” He said lastly, driving off with youn. Your friendship with Jungkook was different from the others. He was your best friend.

Not in the way Mirae was or even Taehyung but he was up there. He’s the one you’d have knocking on your door because he’s bored or bothering you during the middle of the night. He’s also the one you call because you know he’ll answer.

You don’t remember exactly how you two met but it was some time during college, an after party maybe? Campus? Not likely. He was infamous for never showing up. Whatever, it was beyond the point. The point is that somewhere along the way you made friends with an overly clingy man who spent too much time at the gym or gaming in his bedroom when he wasn’t at work.

No, you’re not dating him nor do you want to. He’s kind of just… your overly good looking friend who would do anything for you.

“I forgot my lunch at home so I’m starving,” Jungkook pushed past you to get inside the small barbecue place he dragged you to. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and follow. He’s taken his backpack back to set it on the chair next to his and you sat across from him. It was a familiar place to eat and the menus took up an unnecessary amount of space so he took them both without question.

“What if I wanted to try something new?” You asked with a slight scoff, pretending to be annoyed but he saw right through it.

“You don’t, you’re too picky. You’re just going to get the same thing you always get,” Jungkook said with another shrug before giving you a menu back anyway, “But fine, browse a little.”

“Chill on the attitude,” You joked, looking over the menu with disinterest.

“How do either of you manage to be here at least once a week?” The server grumbled as he approached the table, “And that’s on a good week.”

“Hey, I haven’t been here in like, four days?” You said, second guessing yourself and looking at your friend, “He’d live here everyday if he could.”

“True, Jin is one of the best cooks I know,” Jungkook confessed, making your server roll his eyes.

“Please, Jin’s rarely here since the new place opened up but don’t worry, I’ll pretend to believe you,” he snatched the menus away from you both, “And like you don’t get the ‘Family & Friends’ discount. What’ll it be? The usual?”

Jungkook turned to you with an amused expression, eyebrows raised as he waited to hear your new order. He even had the nerve to rest his chin in the palm of his hand and the server waited with a bored expression.

You sunk into your seat, “The usual.”

“Damn, we should’ve bet on it,” Jungkook grimaced as he took his phone out of his pocket to scroll through his socials, “So how was the meeting? It took a while didn’t it?”

“Don’t even get me started on it, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful. I might pass them onto Mirae,” You told him honestly, “She can handle them better than I could.”

“It’s because you’re hot headed,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He felt your hard stare and he couldn’t help but smirk, “You know you are.”

“Says the guy who almost got into a fight because of Overwatch,” you threw your straw wrapper at him but he caught it and chucked it back at you.

“First of all we were in a tournament and I could’ve won some money,” Jungkook said defensively, “Any sane person would react the same way.”

You raised your brows pretending to be convinced and stared off into space. After your meal and you footed the bill like promised, Jungkook drove you to your apartment.

“Let me know if you need a ride to the garage tomorrow,” Jungkook said as he took the helmet back and you retrieved your things from his backpack.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked curiously as he got back on his bike.

“I don’t know, a friend of mine asked me to go have drinks with him so I’ll probably do that,” He told you honestly, “Why? Wanna watch ’Love, Death & Robots’ again?”

“Just curious, be safe and don’t drive,” You reminded him.

A grin widened on his face, “Will you pick me up if I drink too much—oh right, you don’t have a car… awkward.”

“Asshole,” you hit him playfully, making him sway but he kept himself steady.

“I’ll call for an Uber or something, night.”

There’s not a specific moment that made you and Jungkook become good friends. You sort of just clicked right away. In the beginning there might’ve been a slight tinge of attraction but it was the kind you felt for a stranger walking past. It wasn’t anything either of you wanted to pursue and ended with a good friendship. You learned a lot from each other and somehow managed to co-exist together.

In the beginning nearly all of his friends thought you were into him. They tried to put it into his head that you had a thing for him but it never went anywhere. Jungkook never made a move on you and after a while everyone just accepted it.

This is what friendship looked like. You didn’t have to sleep with each other. You were like one of the guys… aside from the obvious. Now everyone just takes you as you are, a good friend of his with no sexual feelings involved.

“You just got off work?” Yoongi asked as Jungkook finally joined him at the bar, “I thought I was going to have to drink enough for the both of us tonight.”

“Don’t you wish,” Jungkook chuckled, taking a seat and the drink his friend ordered for him, “But no, I was having dinner and had to drive Y/n home.”

“Oh, how is she? Haven’t seen her in a while,” Yoongi asked.

“Her car got Towed at my apartment for parking in someone’s spot a couple days ago. She’s pissed,” Jungkook answered knowingly, “But she’ll survive. What’d you ask me over here for?”

“Oh, I’m talking to this girl who’ll be here soon and she’s got a friend with her.”

✮

Two hundred dollars down the drain all because you parked somewhere you weren’t supposed to. It puts you in a bad mood for a couple days. You weren’t necessarily short on cash but that didn’t mean you wanted to waste it to get your car back.

“Don’t touch me I’m sad,” You mumbled into your desk as your coworker hovered a hand over your back ready to comfort you.

“You didn’t get it back?” Jimin asked, opting to sit on the edge of your desk instead.

“I did, that’s why I’m sad,” You nearly cried, “I’m never staying at anyone’s apartment but mine ever again. It’s too expensive and there’s never enough parking anywhere.”

“Poor you, I know what’ll cheer you up though,” Jimin said with a scheming smile that had your head raising skeptically, “You, Mirae and I out for dinner and a couple drinks after work.”

“I’m pretty sure I just said how much money I spent!” You rolled your eyes making him do the same.

“I’ll pay, silly,” Jimin said, “You look like you could use a drink.”

You were a victim of peer pressure, and for pressure you needed very little of it. All it took was both of your friends reminding you how much fun it would be before the FOMO set in and you joined them.

“You’re so easily persuaded,” Mirae said with a laugh, “Min didn’t even have to beg this time.”

“I’m going through a tough time right now,” You said playfully, reaching across the table for another portion of fries, “Thanks for taking those clients.”

“Yeah yeah, but if I need any favor you better be the first one to grant it,” Mirae pointed a stern finger at you and you nodded eagerly.

“One Wish coupon with your name written on it, noted,” You tapped your head a couple times before shooting her a Thumb’s Up. Your coworker [turned close friend] rolled her eyes with a smile as she raised her glass, “Ready to chug?”

“Oh fuck no,” Jimin groaned, staring down his nearly full glass, “Are we drinking-drinking or are we drinking?”

“Baddie Baddie Shot O’Clock,” you nudge his arm, “Don’t be scared now. You asked for this.”

“We have work tomorro—fuck it, let’s do it,” Jimin said while you and Mirae began a chant ready to take the drink.

There were a couple… a few drinks involved for all of you. It was supposed to be something casual but that never seems to be the case when you’re with your work friends. They’re a good time all the time and sometimes a nice break. Aside from Jungkook, they're some of your closest friends. They know you in a different light than he does. With Mirae you can talk to her about anything and with Jimin he‘s a good time. He doesn’t tease or scold you the way Jungkook does… he lets you have fun.

Not to say Jungkook doesn’t but it’s different and you don’t know how to explain why.

jungkook: hungryyyyyyyyy

jungkook: hungryyyyyyy

jungkook: HUNGRYYYY

you: lower your voice smh

“Is that Jungkook?” Jimin asked, stealing a fry for your plate, “What’s he doing? Ask him to meet us.”

“No, I’m mad at him,” You said with a huff, thinking about the expensive towing bill. You weren’t actually mad at him but more about the price you paid today. Jungkook is the one who told you it was fine to park there and the one night you do, your car gets towed. It’s never happened before and it’s technically his fault. His stupid landlord is an asshole and therefore you’re never stepping foot at his place again.

you: and actually I’m mad at you

jungkook: 🤓 why

you: 200$ 😞

jungkook: :(

you: you better buy me a spot if you want me to come over again

jungkook: hell no

You put your phone face down and looked at your empty glass, wiggling your brows at your two friends, “Another?”

jungkook: hungrryyyyy

Jimin rolled his eyes even as he let you go to the bar and order more. While you were gone he got on his phone and began to type. Mirae looked over his shoulder, “Who are you calling?”

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook knew Jimin well enough to have his number saved. They weren’t close but he’s met him around you before and the guy’s cool. When he called Jungkook assumed it had something to do with you and answered.

“Hey man, what are you doing?”

“Starving,” Jungkook groaned, staring at his empty fridge, “You?”

“Come to JJ’s, Y/n is here and we’re having a few drinks. There’s some food,” Jimin said as he looked up at you.

“Jungkook’s on his way,” Jimin told you once the call came to an end but you barely shrugged in response.

When Jungkook arrived you greeted him like normal and he bumped you further into the booth before immediately digging into your plate. He even had the nerve to ask which drink was yours before taking it, “I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Why do I feel like that’s a lie?” Jimin asked, trying to pass Jungkook the menu so he could order something for himself, “How are ya, buddy?”

“Alright, busy with work,” Jungkook said with a shrug, “It’s been back to back sessions lately and I think I need a break.”

“Have you been going to the chiropractor?” You asked worriedly. Jungkook sneered, turning to look at you, “I thought you were mad at me.”

Your jaw nearly dropped as you scoffed. He’s here eating your food and giving you attitude? It’s obvious he’s joking but it’s annoying. You crossed your arms over your chest and slumped back, “You’re here eating my food, asshole. Fine I won’t talk to you then.”

“I have been going to the chiro,” Jungkook says to you, “Thanks for worrying.”

“I wasn’t worrying,” You rolled your eyes looking across the table at Mirae as Jungkook and Jimin talked like they were good friends.

“Okay I know what I’m using my wish coupon on,” Mirae said suddenly, “You’re going with me to the movies.”

“Yay, what are we watching?” You asked more interested now.

“I don’t know. The guys haven’t chosen the movie yet,” Mirae said as she got on her phone and went to add you to a groupchat.

“What guys?” Jimin asked curiously, making Jungkook turn to look as well.

“My friend’s boyfriend and his friends,” Mirae explained briefly, “They've been wanting to go see this horror movie but it always feels awkward when I tag along with her, her man and his friends.”

“Sounds like a group date,” Jungkook said to you, watching your excitement slowly turn to dejection and for some reason it made his heart beat faster.

“It kinda does,” You agreed.

“It’s not like that. They’re actually kind of cool but I still want someone to talk to,” Mirae told you, “They’re cute.”

“Let me see a picture,” You reached out for her phone.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asked Jimin who aggressively shook his head no.

“Not since the last one, I think she broke my heart,” Jimin pretended to sniffle, “You?”

“Nah, kinda? No,” Jungkook shook his head, “Whatever it is, it's nothing serious.”

“It’s never serious,” You corrected, “I don’t know how he keeps track of them all.”

“Don’t make me out to be a slut,” Jungkook placed his hand over his chest. Easy banter went on for the rest of the night. It was casual and comforting to spend time with those close to you on a random week night. It reminded you of how good things can be and why you liked being with them. Jimin was fun, careless, considerate. Mirae is full of welcomed attitude and charm. Jungkook is comfortable and protective, always around and ready to meet up for anything. They made things feel easy.

When you date a guy you want him to fit in with your friends and that is hard to find.

✮

Jungkook has always been a laid back guy. Despite whatever struggles he’s had, he’s always taken them with a strong head on his shoulders and people to support him. He comes from a loving family and close friends he’s known for years. He’s been in relationships and talking stages that changed him and did his military service as early as he could. He had a plan for himself and when he decided to go to college he didn’t expect to meet you.

It’s not like you had a huge impact on him or anything but he didn’t expect to meet someone he can get along with so easily. He thought he already had his lifelong friends picked out. How did you manage to force your way into his close circle and introduce to people and things he wouldn’t have known otherwise.

You’re his best friend and don’t let any of the guys hear him admit that. They already give him too much shit about you.

“Are you going for Y/n?” His friend asked a few days after he met up with you and your friends for dinner. He’s been up to his usual routine during the week and has barely gotton to see or talk to you.

Jungkook and his friend just had a two hour gym session that left them both jittery and out of breath as they sat in the locker room packing up their belongings. He pulled his helmet out and carried it next to him as he shook his head no, “I’m not driving her around anymore.”

“She got her car back? That’s good,” Taehyung said. You didn’t have it for almost a full week and during that time Jungkook was helping you get to and from work. Since then you’ve had your car and haven’t had a reason to call him up—not that it mattered or anything.

“Wanna get on the game later?” He asked.

“Sure, I’ll shower and have dinner then hop on.”

The two split ways and Jungkook got on his bike to rush home. His evenings didn’t contain much excitement as they did during his college days but they were alright. He’d do exercises after work, head home and wash up, make dinner or go out, and hang out. If he was seeing someone it would look slightly different but he doesn’t usually let it get that far.

It’s not that he’s scared of commitment or anything, he just doesn’t feel the need to be dating at the moment. He’s perfectly content with the way he lives and if he were to get serious with anyone it would have to be someone who understands him. Yes, he does the occasional hook up or fling but they’re never more than that. He’s bad at seriously dating. He’s got to feel truly comfortable with someone.

After his shower, he stood alone in his kitchen thinking of what to make for dinner when he checked the time on his phone. It was almost nine and he’s yet to hear about how your night has gone. The movie was set at six so you had to rush after work to meet with Mirae and all her people but the movie should’ve ended by now. Why haven’t you told him how it went if it’s over now?

Maybe he should just ask.

jungkook: is the movie over

You probably won’t respond if your phone’s on ‘Do Not Disturb’ so he didn’t expect a response.

you: yeah

jungkook: was it scary

you: ehhhhhh not really

jungkook: what r u doing now

you: they wanted to get food after

jungkook: and here I am cooking for myself

Without question Jungkook took a picture of it all, sending it right to you with a message that said;

jungkook: ur favorite

you: 👀 is that an invite

jungkook: depends, r u gonna actually come over or hang out with ur new friends

you: idk one of them is reallllyyyyyy cute

jungkook: stay with them then

You looked at everyone you were with curiously. The movie had ended a bit ago and you were walking to the nearest restaurant talking. Mirae was right, the guys were cool and her friend was nice but it was a lot of effort on your part to be social. One of the guys was particularly cute and he spent a little more time with you than anyone else but did that really mean anything?

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” You said, thinking about the early morning you have tomorrow and how everyone seemed ready to grab a few drinks. Mirae looked at you, “Really? You’re not even hungry?”

“Not really,” You lied with a shrug, “Are you gonna be good?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You said goodbye to them all, sharing information with the cute friend and split ways. On your way to Jungkook’s he let you know parking spot 97 was good to use and despite arguing with him about it you took his word.

“If I get towed again we’re not going to be friends anymore,” You told him once you let yourself into his apartment, immediately being greeted by Bam whose tail whipped back and forth behind him with excitement.

“It’s my spot, Goofy,” Jungkook said, casually throwing on a shirt once you were in. Up until now he’s been cooking shirtless from his shower.

“Your spot is 98,” You reminded him, watching the way he rolled his eyes and turned the stove off.

“Didn’t you tell me to rent you one?” Jungkook asked, pulling the pot off the stove and onto a cooling rack, “Grab bowls.”

“You actually did it?” You asked with a smile, “Bless your kind soul.”

He brushed you off as you did what he asked and went straight to the end of the peninsula countertop where you could sit and eat. Jungkook didn’t bother sitting down, choosing to eat standing up behind the counter and looking at you with curiosity.

“What?”

“How was the date?” He asked.

“What date?” You scoffed, “You mean the movie? One, it wasn’t a date and Two, I told you it was alright.”

“You didn’t drink, did you?” Jungkook asked, ignoring the attitude behind your words. You rolled your eyes, “I wouldn’t have driven here if I had been. I left before we made it to the restaurants. Why so curious tonight?”

He shrugged, the plate completely empty and he began to wash it and what he used to cook. When you finished and offered to help he told you no and washed your stuff too.

“I’m so full, have I ever told you how good of a Cook you are,” You said as you threw yourself onto his couch, a grunt leaving your lips when Bam nearly tackled you down.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” Jungkook said, rummaging through his fridge and smiling widely, “Want a drink?”

“I’m driving.”

“You can just crash on the couch, it’ll be fine,” Jungkook shrugged, carrying over a couple glasses and a bottle of Soju.

That was enough convincing for you to sit on the floor beside him as he set things down on the coffee table. You took the remote and played some movie in the background as he poured the small glass.

“You’re a bad influence,” You joked as you took the first drink like it was a pre-starter and he did the same, “We’ve got work tomorrow.”

“You only go in for a couple hours, I know your schedule, don't forget that,” Jungkook pointed a teasing finger at you, plopping down on the floor with his legs crossed, “I’ve got a beginner’s session around 10am and a few private classes after. I’ll be the one regretting it tomorrow, not you.”

“Yet you’re still the one asking for more,” You said playfully, reaching for the familiar green bottle and pouring a little more in his glass. You didn’t notice the way Jungkook’s gaze flickered down to your exposed waist when you leaned over the coffee table to grab it. The waist of your underwear showed just slightly underneath and he was surprised to find out it was black and lacy making his eyebrow quirk with curiosity. When you sat back down he looked away, pretending to be focused on the movie, “You dressed up for your date?”

“It wasn’t a date,” You said with a groan, sitting back a little closer to him than before and he didn’t bother moving away, “And look at what I’m wearing. Does it look like I dressed up?”

A knowing smirk pulled at his lips as he raised the glass to his lips, “I didn’t realize you wore lace so casually.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion, realization dawning on you just moments later and without thinking you pushed at him playfully, “How’d you know?”

Jungkook laughed, hand sliding down your back where your shirt rose and he didn’t hesitate to reach for the thin fabric nearly pulling on it just to feel you squirm. You couldn’t help but whine, moving away, “Freak.”

“Says you,” Jungkook said, keeping his hand on you, “Come on tell me, how was the date.”

“Why are you insisting it was a date?” You asked, taking a big gulp and turning to face him, “You never hear me asking about your little flings or whatever you like to call them nowadays.”

“But if you asked me I’d tell you, I wouldn’t be all secretive about it like you are,” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, “Hurry up and drink more.”

“Don’t pressure me,” You rolled your eyes but did as told, “And I did tell you. I said one of them were cute over text, remember?”

“Hardly,” He shrugged looking away with a bored expression, “Cuter than me?”

You didn’t say anything making him smile, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“He was alright, pretty cute and nice,” You finally said but Jungkook wasn’t listening anymore. His attention had drifted to the way you leaned against him with your side against his fitting perfectly beside him. It was obvious your words fell on deaf ears but you didn’t seem to mind either. You turned to face him, convince him that the guy you met was just cute but it wasn’t worth it. You’ll probably never see the guy again and if he does want to text, it most likely won’t lead to anything.

“What?” He asked, catching your stare.

“You’re drunk,” You pointed out his red cheeks and ears, “Already?”

“No.”

“Then why are you blushing?” You asked with a teasing smile going to poke his flushed cheek when he grabbed your hand suddenly. You both had been casually drinking since you sat down but it isn't until now that you can feel the alcohol take effect over your body. You blamed it for the way you were looking at your friend at the moment.

It was hard to see him as just Jungkook, right now you can only see him for how attractive he was. He’s gotten way more muscular lately and with the added tattoos it’s hard to ignore it. When you walked into his apartment earlier and found him shirtless it was hard not to look at his abdomen. You don’t remember the eight pack or his biceps that big. Without thinking you placed a hand on his chest, taut muscles tense underneath your touch.

Jungkook couldn’t help but let his breath hitch when your hand trailed down his rib cage suddenly, “What?”

“You’ve gotta get a new hobby, you’re going to get too bulky,” You said jokingly, feeling his muscles. He was taken back to have your hand on him but he didn’t back away, “But you like it.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, he lifted the end of his shirt displaying a smooth trail of muscle down his torso and prominent V-line that you tried not to eye too hard. Your hand slipped down without much thought to your actions and lifted your brows in surprise. His skin felt hot to the touch and part of you wanted to keep running your hand over him but you knew better. It would be weird if you did. It’s not like he’s just some random guy…

“I need to pee,” You blurted out, rushing to your feet and kicking his leg playfully, “Put your shirt down.”

“Might just take it off for you,” Jungkook teased, biting his lip watching you walk away.

When you were alone looking at yourself in the mirror it was easier to tell how you felt. You were past tipsy and buzzed but not fully drunk. Your vision was slightly blurry and when you stood straight you felt dizzy but it was the good kind of dizzy.

“What next?” Jungkook asked when you came out of the bathroom, hair up in a clip now and makeup wiped away with some wet wipe he had in the bathroom. He had to do a double take at your new appearance but he didn’t mind the change. You looked comfortable and he can see the clear look of buzz on your face that he’s sure matched his, “Or are you calling it already?”

“Calling what?” You sat back down next to him, stumbling into him a little and he helped you with a hand on your waist guiding you down. Neither of you seemed to care for the fact that you were partially sitting on his lap.

“Calling it a night,” Jungkook said, shifting you closer to his front, “You’ve taken off your makeup, put your hair up… you look ready for bed.”

“I thought you wanted to drink,” You said, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were and his lip piercing had a slight shine from the light reflecting off of it.

“Not if your date tired you out,” Jungkook said with a knowing smirk when you rolled your eyes, leaning into him a little more. He didn’t care who you met up with tonight but he knows it’s getting on your nerves and sometimes he loves to push your buttons, “You probably would’ve preferred to stay out with them since one of them was… what’d you say? Cute? Nice?”

“If you think that, why'd you ask me to come over?” You asked slightly irritated now.

He shrugged, grinning now when he felt you relax in his hold, almost straddling him, “Technically, I did say you could stay with them.”

Your eyes narrowed, hands on his chest ready to push yourself off him, “Fine, I got his number. I’ll see if they’re still ou—“

“No,” He whined, arms tightening around your waist, “No, you’re already here and you’re drunk now. You can’t leave, be a safe driver.”

“Are you trying to manipulate me to stay?” You couldn’t help but laugh, arms circling around his neck. He felt your breath tickle his ear and for some reason it made a shiver run down his spine.

“Depends, is it working?”

It was.

It had been since the beginning. Jungkook didn’t need to do much to get you to hang out with him and he knew that. It’s the same way around. It takes little for Jungkook to beg you to spend time with him. You’re his best friend.

And as his best friend… sometimes… sometimes he wonders how your lips taste. He doesn’t remember when his hand moved from your waist to your neck, or how he moved it to tilt your chin up until your lips were brushing against each other. All he remembers is how close you were to kissing and all he needed was one push, one sign that you want this too and he’ll go for it.

You nearly fell into it too. You can blame the alcohol or the fact that Jungkook is incredibly hot despite only seeing him as a friend but you wanted to kiss him too. You would’ve.

Key words: Would Have.

“Open the door, you Fuck!”

You practically threw yourself off him as someone pounded on his door and it took you a second to reel in what was about to happen. Jungkook couldn’t move for a second, trying to understand why you got off of him so quickly when he heard it again.

“Jungkook, I checked your location, open up,” His friend yelled, knocking on the door, “I’m going to piss myself, let me in!”

“Coming!” Jungkook shouted, sounding annoyed as he got up to unlock the front door. You pulled yourself onto the couch, fixing your shirt that had risen when his hands had grazed your waist and stared down at the empty bottles of Soju.

“Tae—“ He couldn’t finish his sentence before his friend was pushing past him and running straight for the bathroom, waving hello to you before disappearing. He stood at the open door trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

The two of you were drinking, messing around and almost kissed? Almost? If Taehyung hadn’t come barging in would you have done it? Would you know when to stop? Would you stop anyway?

“Fuck, I was in the cab on my way home and he would not pull over,” Taehyung said once he was done with his business, “I was like ‘Listen dude, my friend lives around here so drop me off or I’m going to puke in your backseat’.”

“I thought you had to pee,” You chimed in when he sat down next to you, acting like he had been there the whole time.

“I thought so too but it came up the other way instead, what are you guys doing? Drinking?” Taehyung asked looking down at the coffee table, “Ugh I can’t even think about it, don’t play APT with Jin hyung, he talks too fast and wins everytime.”

“Maybe he was just speaking gibberish but you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook said, arms crossed over his chest looking unimpressed, “So… is the cab still out there waiting or…”

“Nah, I’m just gonna crash here—“

“Great!” Jungkook scoffed, “Sleepover at my place, first Y/n… now you… it’s like we’re in school…”

“Well I would’ve gone home if you didn’t ask to drink,” You told him trying to ignore the fact that you almost kissed but it was hard to ignore the way he bit his lip at you, “I could still call an Uber.”

“Nah, Taehyung can,” Jungkook said, sitting on the armchair across from you.

“Whoa, you’re the first person I thought of, why kick me out now? I’m drunk, Kook, be nice to me,” Taehyung pouted, leaning against your shoulder, “What’d you do? Why’s he so grumpy?”

“Don’t blame me, you’re the one that came pounding on the door so late at night,” You said playfully, shoving Taehyung off. He was more Jungkook’s friend then yours but you’ve hung out around him enough to feel comfortable with him.

“So? I always do that—Why?” Taehyung turned abruptly, “What were you guys doing?”

“Drinking,” Jungkook said, “You wouldn’t want to since yknow… Jin got you drunk… you probably want to call it a night…”

“Nah, I puked a little earlier so I’m fine now,” Taehyung said, “Plus I haven’t seen Y/n in a while, what are we watching?”

“Actually, I’m tired,” You told him with a small yawn, “I think I’m calling it a night.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Taehyung asked.

You laughed, “No, I’m just saying I’m tired.”

“Go to my room,” Jungkook said with a sigh, thinking about what the two of you were about to do before he stormed in, “I’ll stay out here with him.”

When you left, Jungkook threw a pillow at Taehyung’s head, making the other groan, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook huffed , “Now I gotta sleep on the couch.”

Taehyung smirked, feeling more sober now as he put two and two together, “Or you could go follow your girlfriend…”

“We’re no—we’re not dating,” Jungkook thought about how you almost kissed and his face flushed red, “For fuck’s same, go get the extra blankets and pillows. I get the big couch—“

“But I’m like a centimeter taller than—“

“This is my house!” Jungkook yelled, throwing himself on the couch and covering his face with one of the pillows, “Or get an Uber back to yours.”

“Jeez, you’re rude tonight. I always come over when I’m drunk,” Taehyung laughed knowing how annoyed Jungkook was, “Just say you were going to get freaky with Y/n.”

“I wasn’t!”

✮

It took you a full day to come to terms with what happened the other night at Jungkook’s. The two of you had been drinking and almost kissed, almost.

There’s no way to deny it. You were close to kissing.

If Taehyung hadn’t shown up out of the blue, would you have done it? Would he have slept in the same bed as you? What would you do or say if he asked?

There’s always been an underlying sense of tension between you but you tried not to think about it. You told yourself that nothing was ever going to happen. It was just how friendships with someone you found attractive was.

A loud sigh left your lips, dropping your head against your keyboard and letting an endless stream of spaces fill the word document. Soft fingers pulled your head up to slide the keyboard out making you look up at the person who did it. Jimin sat at the end of your desk, “I was just sitting in my office wondering why my friend hasn’t gone to distract me today. What’s up with you?”

“Morning, can’t focus,” You told him.

“How’d the showing go?” Jimin asked, trying to find something that could get you talking.

“They liked it, it’s a little over their budget but I think we’ll close the deal on it,” You said.

“Good, what about the other night?”

“What about the other night?” Your question sounded rushed and made him look at you with peaked interest. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

“With Mirae and the movie,” Jimin said. He watched you release a breath you weren’t aware you were holding and pressed you for more, “Did you talk to any of the guys?”

“Yeah… um, I did,” You sat back, chair swiveling out as you turned to face him, “His name’s Namjoon. I got his number and he texted me yesterday before the showing to wish me luck.”

“So what? Are you and Mirae gonna ditch me when you guys find someone? Who are going to be my drinking buddies when you’re off with your boyfriends? She told me all about the other guy, I’m starting to feel pushed aside,” Jimin spoke in a ramble making you roll your eyes.

“Relax, it was the first time I met him. Mirae, yeah she really hit it off with the other guy,” You said.

Jimin just nodded, taking in your words and finally deciding to bring it up, “Mirae said you left early though.”

“Yeah, they wanted to go out to eat but I wasn’t hungry…” You said.

“Bullshit, I checked your location, you went to Jungkook’s pla—“

“Okay! What’s up with all the stalking lately? First Taehyung, now you—we share locations so that you know I’m safe after a night out,” You pointed a finger at him, trying to deflect some of the questions away from you, “And yeah, I did go to his place. He made food and I didn’t want to go eat with all of them anyway.”

“Interesting excuse, so what? Did you guys fight or something? You know I understand you’re close friends but you’re not close friends like we are.“

“That’s not tru—“ You cut yourself off thinking about how you almost kissed Jungkook and as much as you love Jimin, you’ll never find yourself kissing him, almost!

A loud groan left your lips as you dropped your head against the keyboard again and Jimin watched the aggressive keyboard smash type out gibberish. This time it was his turn to roll his eyes and he stood up, “We both know that’s a lie but fine, I’ll let you be.”

You don’t remember how the rest of your day went aside from the fact that you were distracted the entire time. Right now you have three different clients you’re currently helping buy their first home and the last thing you need is to be distracted right now.

Jungkook is your friend and until he makes it clear that he is interested, you’re just going to move on. Well… even if he was interested, what does that mean? Does that mean you’re into him? It’s all so confusing.

He took a deep breath, leg threatening to bounce with anxiety as he counted the reps his current client did between sets.

“Kook, man, you’re killing me today,” His client said with a deep huff, nearly collapsing on the floor as he set the weight down, “I thought we’d be taking it easy after the last session.”

“I don’t know why you would think that,” Jungkook said, “Take a breather and do another fifteen.”

Even as he said that, he switched places with Hoseok and prepared himself to do a set. His client watched him with his mouth open in confusion, “It’s what you said! You said we’d be taking it easy today since last time was so much. I’m still a sore man, please don’t do this to me.”

”You’re right, I did say that,” Jungkook huffed, counting in his head as he did bench presses, “Next session we’ll take it easy.”

“Fuck, I need a new trainer,” Hoseok groaned, chugging back water and pacing back and forth.

“You’re at my gym! You’re lucky we’re friends, don’t say that,” Jungkook stood up and motioned for Hoseok to go, “Now you're doing twenty.”

“Rude,” Hoseok said, “What’s up with you anyways? You seem on edge today.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook said looking down at his gym bag where his phone currently was, “But uh, just out of curiosity… if someone hasn’t talked to you in a couple days, what does it mean?”

Hoseok couldn’t help but chuckle, “Come on, how old are we? That’s what you’re stressing about?”

When Jungkook didn’t laugh it off Hoseok got a little more serious, “Depends on the person. Girlfriend? Family member? Stranger?”

“Not girlfriend—just friend,” Jungkook clarified quickly.

“Friend?” Hoseok looked at him curiously, “Friend with the occasional benefits or Friend you’re currently upset with?”

“Neither, just friend,” Jungkook shook his head, “I mean… like actual, genuine friend and… fuck, I don’t know.”

“Who?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything but it wasn’t hard for Hoseok to connect the pieces, “Y/n?”

To that, Jungkook nodded meekly.

“I mean… it’s normal to not talk everyday. We don’t talk everyday, I send you like a hundred Instagram reels a day that you don’t see me crying about,” Hoseok said, skipping from 15 to 17 and hoping Jungkook didn’t catch the reps he didn’t do, “Which by the way, you could at least bother to react to every now and then.”

“Sorry, you’re right, I’m overthinking it,” Jungkook said, “And you’re not done, you skipped ahead.”

“Fucker,” Hoseok cursed under his breath and hurried to do them properly before he could take a break, “But honestly, what’s up with you and Y/n? Aren’t you ‘just friends’?”

“We are,” Jungkook bit his lip nervously, “I don’t know I’m being weird. I’ll just ask her what shes doing later.”

“Being weird about what?”

Jungkook looked at him with wide, rounded eyes like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have and the words came out in a shy whisper, “Nothing.”

✮

Over the night Jungkook reached out to you. He sent you some stupid text about a new tv show he’s watching that he thinks you could get into. It wasn’t anything serious or anything but it brushed past what happened. It was normal.

Things were normal and clearly nothing had happened that night so you were overthinking for no reason.

“You don’t want to go?” Mirae asked, watching you stare at your reflection for the hundredth time trying to find something off about your appearance.

“I do, we’re going, don’t worry,” You looked around, “I just need perfume.”

“Where’s Jungkook?” She asked, standing up for you to give her some too. You checked the ETA on your Uber before answering.

“Huh? He’s probably already there, I don’t know. Let’s go downstairs, the Uber’s pulling up,” You told her as you quickly grabbed your things and began to walk out your room. Your friend followed suit, “And then we’re going out with Namjoon and Jisoo, right?”

The only reason Mirae agreed to come with you was so that you could go with her and the guy she likes later. A couple days ago Jungkook let you know that Taehyung was going to have a few friends over to watch some MMA fight on tv and drink. You still felt awkward seeing him in person and he knew you had no reason to say no so there was no point in trying. In the end you asked Mirae to join you and after begging, she agreed. She had plans with one of the guys from last week and found it perfect to have you tag along after.

You’ve been to Taehyung’s place once or twice before — usually with Jungkook — but it was different to walk in without him.

“Look who finally showed up,” Taehyung said with a smile as he opened the door for you and Mirae, “Hi Y/n, and Mirae right?”

The two have met before but it was brief and awkward so you were surprised he even remembered her name but they greeted each other politely anyway. You looked around, surprised to see a lot more people than you anticipated, “Doesn’t look like a couple friends, Tae.”

“I’m a social being,” Taehyung said with a hand to his chest, “Jungkook is somewhere around here. I thought you’d be coming with him and then got stuck waiting around for you to show up.”

“I need a drink first.”

Jungkook was across the room talking with some people you didn’t know. It wasn’t hard for you to see that the one closest to him was a pretty brunette with a soft smile and big eyes. She talked with him the most and you had no idea who she was. For all you know he could’ve come with her tonight or just met her and really hit it off, you’re not sure, and you’d rather not know.

He barely knew the girl but Yoongi introduced her to him a while before you got to Taehyung’s place. He had been staring at his phone anxiously waiting for a text that never came and the next thing he knew, Yoongi was having him meet Sera. She was pretty and easy to talk to, paid attention to him even when others talked and stood by him wherever he moved to. It was alright, he didn’t mind the extra attention but it wasn’t… that interesting.

Sera said something in his ear that he had to lean down to hear properly but in all honesty he wasn’t listening to begin with. If anything it reminded him of when you whispered in his ear but it didn’t feel the same. His eyes scanned the people that arrived over time, occasionally drifting to the door and stopping once he saw you walk in. You wore a short black dress that accentuated your legs and it was hard for his eyes to remain on your face. Mirae was dressed similarly and you both looked out of place in a good way.

“How do you know Taehyung?” He heard Sera ask and he answered with little eagerness, watching you talk with his friend and head for the drinks.

“We met a few years ago when I first moved to the city,” Jungkook said, looking down at her trying to focus but his mind had gone elsewhere. Turning to Yoongi he said, “I’m gonna go say hi to Y/n.”

Yoongi could try and keep him around but there was no point. Jungkook was walking off before anyone could stop him. He left Sera alone with the others so he can talk to you. Since you last seen each other and had the ‘Almost Kiss’ he had only texted you. You’ve both had a busy week with work and nerves probably kept you apart.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t want to overthink anything. He just wanted to talk to his friend.

“What are we drinking?” He asked with an overly gracious smile, slipping himself between you and the counter so you were forced to look at him.

“Depends, what have you had?” You asked, immediately feeling yourself tense for a second before you realized who it was.

“Nothing too strong just yet,” Jungkook admitted, “I’ve been waiting for you all night.”

He greeted your friend quietly before looking back at you and where you stared off at, “Really? I’ve been here for a while, I figured you would’ve noticed earlier if you’ve been waiting all this time.”

He could sense the small sarcastic tone in your voice but there was nothing strange to it. You usually talked this way with him, always sounding close to flirting or jealous or… interested in him. It was confusing at first but overtime he’s learned to ignore the tone or offer it back. It works for your friendship.

“I might’ve gotten a little distracted,” He couldn’t help but smile, “What time did you get home last night?”

“Early,” You said with a shrug making his brow arch, watching you pour yourself a mix of rum and coke.

“Then why didn’t you text me back?” He asked.

“I did—well, I was going to,” You began to say, feeling yourself on the edge of smiling as you thought up an excuse, “I forgot.”

“Right…” Jungkook rolled his eyes looking over at Mirae instead, “You both look nice, did you just have dinner or something?”

“No, we’re meeting up with some guys in a bit,” Mirae said without much thought and you snapped your eyes to her. She looked up, catching the way Jungkook’s smile dropped a fraction lower and shifted her gaze toward you. Your glare was enough to tell her she shouldn’t have said anything.

“Guys? The one’s from the movie? What are you doing? Going out?” He asked, attempting to sound indifferent. It’s not like he can say anything. He doesn’t know why it doesn’t sit right with him but it didn’t. He didn’t even know the guy but he knew you thought he was cute. Jungkook knew you were talking to him at least a little and that you wore a dress for him tonight.

“Take this,” You offered Jungkook the drink, “And we’re going out for a little bit but I think it’ll be a casual night.”

“Super casual,” Mirae laughed nervously, looking around, “Where’s the bathroom? I’ll be back.”

Before you could follow after her, he stood in front of you.

“So who were you talking to? Have I met her?” You asked, clearing your throat awkwardly. It was an attempt to take some of the heat off of you because this was feeling like an odd interrogation. Anyone passing but might think it’s a lover’s quarrel but it wasn’t.

“I’ve barely met her,” Jungkook said, “It’s Sora… Sua… Sera? Something like that, I don’t know. A friend of Yoongi’s I met the other night.”

“Cool,” You looked back to find her talking with someone else now.

“What about the cute and nice guy you’ve been going on about? You’re seeing him again tonight?” Jungkook asked, taking a sip from the cup and leaning against the kitchen counter. He had a good view of you standing a couple feet away and he had to resist the urge to pull you closer.

“I have not been going on about him, there’s nothing going on,” You told him with an exaggerated sigh, leaning into him absentmindedly and feeling his hand on your side keeping you steady, “I asked Mirae to come with but she had plans with them after and just asked me to tag along.”

“Alright, you don’t have to explain it.” Jungkook said, sounding like he was brushing you off but not meaning to. Obviously he was happy you were here and talking to him but he didn’t want to hear more. It was beginning to sound like you were explaining yourself to him. Making yourself sound better after he asked you about Namjoon. He doesn’t even know why he asked you about that guy, he doesn’t care.

“Alright, I won’t,” you crossed your arms over your chest looking away from him, “Don’t ask me about anyone then.”

Jungkook had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from responding. He didn’t have anything to say because all he wanted was for you to tell him a little more about Namjoon. Why did he act like he didn’t care when he did?

Without bothering to ask anything he was scared to know about, he turned away from you and looked back at the people he was standing with before. You walked off to find Mirae, a little annoyed with Jungkook for reasons you couldn’t understand and needed to get away. Whatever, you almost kissed and considering he hasn't said anything about it it’s clearly not on his mind. If that’s the case why does he act like he cares about who you talk to only to stop you when you explain yourself?

When he joined Yoongi and the others again he acted like he didn’t care that you wandered off away from him. He didn’t seem bothered when you left later that night without saying goodbye and didn’t check his phone once for a text from you.

He can’t explain why but he doesn’t know how to feel about you. For so long now it feels like you’ve just been a close friend to him. You’re someone he calls when he’s bored and thinks of when he finds something funny. You get him like a friend, you don’t expect much either. You’re more like the guys he’s friends with, and you’re not like the girls who’ve tried to get with him. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he likes having you around and the last thing he wants to do is complicate things by catching feelings.

Especially when he doesn’t know how you feel and he’s too nervous to ask. It’d be crossing the line. You’d probably be grossed out if he expresses interest in you. He’s seen how quick you are to stop being friends with a guy who approaches you like a friend but wants to be with you.

He’s already done too much by almost kissing you.

“Y/n, good to see you and don’t you look pretty,” Namjoon said later that night, hugging you in greeting when you met up with him and Jisoo. The club you’d gone to after Taehyung’s was lovely and packed with people everywhere that it was hard to find him in the first place. He brought a surprising smile to your face but you’re not sure how to feel about him just yet.

“Thank you, thank you, dressed up just for you,” You told him playfully, leaning against the bar when Jisoo asked for your drink order. Namjoon was attractive and charming but… there’s something holding you back even if you flirted with him absentmindedly. Was there much weight to your actions? Did you actually care to get to know him better?

“I like it, how’s your night been?” Namjoon attempted small talk. It was what your conversations usually consisted of. Even the first night you met you only talked about the movie and when Jungkook texted you, you talked about your friends too.

He’s told you a little about himself and you’ve told about yourself but not enough. Your mind always seemed off somewhere else.

Time passed by without wondering about Jungkook, using Namjoon as a distraction but it didn’t work for as long as you hoped. When your night had dulled and your friends dared to call it the end, Namjoon looked at you for an invitation to your apartment that you never gave him. You went your separate ways and left on your own.

It was past 3am and you should’ve gone to bed, not gotten on your phone to find someone to talk to.

“Hello?”

“Are you sleeping?” You asked, falling on your bed and sinking into the pillows.

“Was trying to, what’s up?” Jungkook asked with a small yawn that had you debating if you should hang up and let him sleep instead.

“Nevermind, you’re tired I shouldn’t have called,” You began to say, looking around for your phone charger to connect it before you end the call.

He sat up in bed, checking the time and sighing, “But you did, are you still out with your new friends?”

“Jungkook!” You whined, rolling onto your stomach and staring up at your dimly lit ceiling.

“I’m kidding,” He laughed softly, voice a little raspy from being half-asleep but he couldn’t help but press you again, “But are you?”

“I just got home but I’m not tired. I’m bored.” You admitted.

“What should I do about that?” Jungkook smiled, imagining the way you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know…” You bit your lip in thought. You really weren’t tired but that didn’t mean you had to drag Jungkook around.

“Want me to come over?” He finally asked.

“It’s late.”

“I think we both know that.” He rolled his eyes, already getting out of bed so he could throw some clothes on, “Do you?”

“What would we do?” You asked, leaving your bedroom so you could get the front door unlocked for him.

He put his phone on speaker as he slipped on a pair of sweats and threw a hoodie over his head, “I don’t know, we both don’t work tomorrow. Maybe watch a movie?”

“At this hour?” You asked. You could hear Jungkook huff, sitting on the edge of his bed unsure what to do, “You really want to come over?”

“Maybe, you did ditch me tonight—“ Jungkook started, getting cut off by yet another whine.

“No I didn’t! You know what, come over so we can talk,” You told him.

“I’m already getting dressed, chill out.”

It took only around ten minutes for Jungkook to come around and he walked into your apartment with a shake of his head. You must’ve left it unlocked earlier and he didn’t like that. What if someone broke in? He locked the door behind himself, kicking his shoes off by the heels you wore tonight. The only light he could find came from your bedroom and he didn’t hesitate to let himself in.

“What have I told you about leaving your door unlocked?” His words were barely heard over your scream of terror as you walked out of the bathroom dressed in a t-shirt and pajama shorts.

Once the scare wore off you said, “Relax I left it open for you.”

“Sure you did, I bet it was for your new fri—ow!” He groaned dramatically when you hit his arm playfully. He laughed at your annoyance and threw himself on the bed, “I’m kidding. What’d you go do anyway? Did your dress leave him swooning?”

“You’re so annoying,” You sighed jumping down next to him, “Just say you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” A scoff left his lips.

“Sounds like it,” You looked for your remote, “What do you wanna watch?”

“I’m not jealous. If you want to go hang out with another guy then do what you want,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “We’re just friends, anyway.”

You raised a brow in confusion and surprise by his tone with you, “And if I wanted to don’t you think I would be doing that right now?

“I mean you did earlier when you left,” Jungkook said annoyingly.

“Go home if you’re going to argue with me,” You told him, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest with frustration.

“Hell no, I drove over at this hour, I’m sleeping here,” As if to make his point more clear, he made himself comfortable on your bed.

“Not if you’re going to act mean.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook scoffed, leaning up with your pillows, “I’ll stop, whatever, fine. Don’t kick me out, it’s so late. I drove all the way here for you.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive,” You groaned when he pulled on the end of your hoodie, “What?”

“This is mine,” Jungkook looked at the gray apparel, “I don’t remember giving it to you.”

“You didn’t, but you left it in my car,” You tried to pull back but it was no use. Jungkook wasn’t letting you move away.

“So? Doesn’t mean it’s yours. I want it back—“

“I’ll wash it,” You pulled your covers up to hide yourself underneath but there was no point. A smirk appeared on his face, “I want it now though.”

You didn’t say anything as he pulled you closer, falling over him a little. His hand slid down your waist keeping you against him, too close to be appropriate for two friends.

“What are you gonna do? Take it off me?” You dared to ask, making yourself comfortable against his chest. Part of you knew you shouldn’t be laying in bed like this with your friend.

“Should I?” He asked in a low whisper, fingers slipping up your back just under the hoodie where he could feel your bare skin. You didn’t wear anything underneath and it made him want to explore more.

You didn’t say anything or bother to push his hand away. You kind of liked his touch, it was gentle but his fingers were rough from all the time he spends at the gym. Your body lay on his, leg nearly hooked around his waist and looking down at him with curiosity.

Jungkook could make out small fragments of makeup you couldn’t get all the way off. There was still a small outline of lip gloss and your lashes were dark and long. Your cheeks still had a hint of blush but even in this state you were pretty. He can’t get the image of you in that dress earlier out of his mind.

You were oddly close to him and found yourself in the same predicament as last time. Your lips only centimeters apart from his and a need to close that space. Jungkook parted his lips in a breath, catching the way you looked at him and his hand had slowed down its caress until it was tracing a soft line against your spine.

He felt the shift of your upper body when you tried to lean up, almost closing the space but hesitant still.

You wanted to kiss him. He can tell and he wanted to kiss you just as bad. This time around there were no interruptions so what was stopping him from leaning into you too?

“How much did you drink tonight?” Jungkook found himself asking before he could stop himself. It wasn’t the right time to ask but he wanted to know if this was just something that happened when you were drunk or could it happen sober too?

“I don’t know, I stopped drinking like a while before I got home,” You leaned back, brows furrowed together, “Why? You drank tonight too?”

“I went home a little after you left,” he admitted. It was around midnight when you left Taehyung’s to go with Mirae and those guys. He’d barely managed to survive at the party much long after that and called it an early night. You’d been out longer than he had.

“Okay…” You pushed off of him, feeling his arm loosen around you, “That was kind of random.”

Jungkook knew he should have stayed quiet. He should’ve just kissed you and see where things could’ve gone but he had to ruin it. He had to ask you something that was eating at him.

All he’s been able to think about lately is possibly kissing you and this time around he ruined it all on his own.

“Y/n,” He poked your side to get your attention but you had your back to him, turned on your side and tuned him out.

You felt stupid for even attempting to kiss him. He pushed you away after what felt like him flirting with you and it was embarrassing. He just sees you as a friend so you have to stop doing this.

With a huff of frustration, he stretched himself out on his side of your bed and stared at the night landscape on your flatscreen. In a few short moments it’d go into sleep mode on its own and the room would go pitch black.

You must’ve been tired, worked up or even a little buzzed still but you fell asleep long before he did. You’d been so tired you didn’t notice when your cell phone fell onto the bed in the space between you and just as he felt himself close to sleep, the screen lit up the room.

Jungkook planned on ignoring it, not caring who might’ve texted but something in him told him to look. Plus, you’d be mad if you woke up in the morning and your phone wasn’t charging. He picked it up, eyes squinting at the bright light and read the notification.

namjoon: did u make it home safe ????

Here he was sleeping in your bed while another guy texted you. How dumb is he?

You flirt with him but you don’t want him, simple as that and he doesn’t know if he could take it anymore. After some contemplation, he carefully got out of your bed and rounded to your side. He found your charger and connected your phone before he left your bedroom quietly and went home before you could wake up.

✮

Your office felt oddly cold that following Monday. You spent Sunday holed up in your bedroom trying to figure out what happened over the weekend and you’ve somewhat come to terms with it when you texted Jungkook and he chose not to respond.

You weren’t in the mood to work but there was nothing you could do about it. The clients you were supposed to meet with postponed the lunch meeting to later in the day so really, you could go home for a while but you also didn’t want to. It would make you think about how you almost kissed Jungkook and how he pushed you away and left in the middle of the night like you were some one night stand or something.

“I’m not going out anymore,” You told Jimin as you walked into his office, “I make poor decisions when I’m under the influence and I’m done.”

“Why? I thought you went out with Mirae,” Jimin said swiveling his chair out from under his desk top, “Which by the way, fuck you both for no invite.”

“It was last minute,” You told him, leaning against a shelf, “And I regret it.”

“Why?”

“Stop asking me questions, I can’t explain it,” You whined, covering your ears dramatically which only made your friend roll his eyes.

“You storm into my office complaining and I’m not allowed to ask questions? What happened to a positive work environment?” Jimin asked with a scoff.

“It’s hard to explain, it was great when I was with Mirae and Namjoon and Jisoo but…” You bit your lip nervously.

“But what?” Jimin waited. He knew how your night went because Mirae filled him in on everything. He had known you went to Jungkook’s friend’s place to pregame and if it wasn’t the group you were with that left you stressed it had to be Jungkook. You think you’re so secretive about the trials and tribulations of your ‘friendship’ with him.

“Nothing,” you sighed out, checking your phone. Maybe you just needed to give it a few days for the embarrassment to go away and you’ll be fine again.

Jimin looked at you expectantly, deciding to take a different route for his questions, “So how was it with Namjoon? Mirae is all Heart Eyes for Jisoo.”

“Huh? Oh, no it’s nothing like that,” You told him honestly, “We talked yesterday and I don’t know, I think it’s obvious we’re good as friends right now.”

“So no feelings at all?” Jimin asked, watching you shake your head, so he kept pushing, “Really? Have you actually thought about it though? I thought he’d be someone who’s your type or something.”

You stayed quiet, not bothering to hear him out as you let your mind run rampant. Namjoon is attractive but he’s just a friend and he knows that. If you were not emotionally available you might have given him a better chance but right now you know you feel something for Jungkook. It’s stupid considering he clearly doesn’t want you but it would be unfair to Namjoon if you used him to get over the other.

✮

It took over a week for Jungkook to get the courage to talk about you. He wanted you, he wanted you so bad but there was something holding him back. He’s mad that you’re possibly interested in someone else and he’s pissed that he ruined your chance at kissing. He’s annoyed with himself for many reasons and the only thing he thought to do was distance himself from you.

There’s no point in asking to hang out all the time if you’ve got someone you’re interested in, you'd probably rather spend time with.

Throughout the week he found himself joining his other friends and whatever they did instead of seeking you out like usual. If they thought it strange no one had the nerve to question it. It was obvious there was something going on between you and considering Jungkook’s been on edge nobody wanted to push him to know more.

On Tuesday he met up with Yoongi for dinner and surprisingly enough some other people showed up—Sera (the girl from the party) being one of them. She talked to him the most like last time and it was clear she was very interested in him. He was flattered but that was it. He was too stuck on you even when you weren’t talking.

By the time the weekend rolled back around, Jungkook let himself be dragged to another night out. Yoongi and some of his other friends got him out for a couple drinks at a few bars. He didn’t mind it, but it was weird when Sera and others showed up. It felt oddly like a set-up and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“So you don’t think she’s hot?” Hoseok asked as he waited at the bar with Jungkook for the round of drinks he’d just ordered. Jungkook looked back at the group finding Sera looking at him but he just looked away.

“She’s… she’s alright,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, not really my type though.”

“Why? Because she’s not Y/n?” Hoseok asked with a scoff that made Jungkook roll his eyes. Out of everyone Hoseok was always the main one to point out his relationship with you. It all started when Hoseok made a comment months ago about how he thought you were hot and Jungkook was a little too quick to shut it down. It was weird for him to think of two of his friends going out or talking and Hoseok took that as a sign that Jungkook wanted you… which wasn’t true.

Anyway, the point is, Hoseok always brings you up around him and tonight was no different.

“Where is she anyway? I feel like I haven’t seen her around in a while,” Taehyung said, appearing out of nowhere holding a drink of his own.

“You saw her last weekend,” Jungkook told him.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen her with you,” Taehyung clarified but Jungkook didn’t seem to care anymore. Hoseok nudged Jungkook and with a drink, “Let’s go talk with Sera and maybe you can introduce me to her friend.”

Taehyung let the other two leave and without thinking he grabbed his cell phone and dialed your number.

You were hanging out at Jimin’s place after finishing some work with him and Mirae when Taehyung called, “Hello.”

“Hey Y/n, where are you? What are you doing?” Taehyung asked looking back at Jungkook who looked tortured to be sandwiched between Sera and Hoseok.

“At a friend’s place, what’s up?” You asked looking between your friends who looked back at you with curiosity.

“Come to JJ’s Bar, we’re all here,” Taehyung kept it simple. In all honesty, he genuinely likes having you around. You’re funny and like Jungkook in a way. When Jungkook brought you around it was surprisingly easy to befriend you and you’re someone he likes seeing. He thinks you and Jungkook should get together some day—if you haven’t already. He doesn’t understand why it hasn’t happened yet when you both clearly want to and okay, he might’ve cut in on that first night but he swears he was drunk. He didn’t mean to and since then you’ve been distant from each other.

He’s been trying to invite you since Jungkook wants to be too stubborn to admit he wants you around.

“Who’s we? Yoongi? Jungkook?” You asked, beginning to gnaw on your bottom lip, “Let me think about it.”

When you hung up, Jimin was the first to speak, “I can drive you.”

“I don’t know… I haven’t really been talking to Jungkook this weekend,” You admitted to making Mirae roll her eyes.

“We know, but it’s obvious you want to. You’ve been depressed all week,” She said, trying to convince you to be honest about your feelings. Neither one of you wants to admit what’s going on between you so you just keep going around it. You’ve been off for a couple weeks now and everyone can see it but you two.

At the bar Jungkook was bored. He wasn’t in the mood to drink or be out with everyone but he dragged himself along because he had nothing better to do. He wasn’t going to stay home staring at his phone or getting FOMO because he missed his friends. He doesn’t want to be here but he doesn’t want to be home.

Frankly, Jungkook knows where and with who he wants to be but he’s too stupid to pick up his phone and call you.

“Jungkook, be honest, are you seeing anyone?” Sera finally asked as she noticed him stare at his phone screen. The bar was dark with colorful lights here and there, packed with people and he was more interested on his phone. She’s done everything she can to get him to notice her but it feels like she keeps falling shorts. He talks to her, close to flirting but never all the way, yet she can’t tell how he feels. Well, no, she can tell he’s thinking about something else but everyone tells her he’s single. She remembers seeing you at Taehyung’s last weekend, it was the most interested he looked in anything but the two of aren’t… dating [?] so what was his deal?

“What?” He turned with surprise written on his face. Sera was blunt and it caught him off guard.

“Well, I think you’re hot and I want to get to know you but I don’t know where your head is at,” Sera said loudly over the music. He was flattered but…

“You actually came!” Taehyung greeted you warmly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug as you found him and the others. You hugged him back and looked at everyone, not remembering him mentioning any of the other women here—or the one Jungkook was talking to.

“Y/n,” Yoongi said hello, “Do you want a drink?”

“Um…”

“I uh,” Jungkook blinked in disbelief as he looked at you just a few feet away from him. He didn’t know you’d be here, how? “It’s complicated.”

He tried to sit there and focus on Sera but it was hard. He didn’t want to just ditch the girl out of the blue but you haven’t spared him a single glance. It’s like you’re here for his friends but not for him and he didn’t like that. You’re supposed to be his friend not theirs.

You stood back, nervous to greet him. You barely know the girl but what if it’s someone he’s interested in? What if you’re just supposed to be someone he calls when he’s bored and flirts with when no one’s around? What if you’ve read too much into it and let your feelings get involved? You debated approaching him or not especially considering how he left you alone in bed after pushing you away from a kiss. Was it a mistake coming here? What’d you even hope could happen?

“Jungkook,” You waved, hoping you didn’t sound too nervous or bothered while also not sounding too enthusiastic in case that was a girl he was after. You just needed to sound friendly. That’s it.

Sera looked between you with peaked curiosity. She’d notice his attention had left her a while ago but now she sees why. Jungkook didn’t bother looking back at her as he stood up, making his way over to where you stood.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” He said shifting his eyes around, “Who invited you?”

“I can’t hang around your friends anymore?” You asked bluntly, “What do you mean who invited me?”

“I just… I didn’t kno—should we get a drink?” His voice shook with anxiety as his hand slipped down your back to lead you to the bar. He wasn’t doing anything wrong talking to Sera but for some reason he didn’t want the two of you around each other—especially after she just told him she was interested.

“I’ll probably leave, I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not wanted,” You said bitterly, trying to step away from him but he didn’t let you get far from his arms.

“I want you here, of course I do. I just wanted to know who texted you,” Jungkook told you looking at his friends and the only one that was smiling, “Taehyung?”

“Yeah, he asked me to come but if it’s going to be a problem I’ll just leave,” You kept saying.

“Why would it be a problem? I’ve been meaning to text you but—yknow, um,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, leading you away from the group. It’s not that he didn’t want you around them but he was only comfortable with you right now. He didn’t need everyone hearing him.

“Alright, you don’t have to explain it,” You brushed him off, turning to the bar and debating if you wanted a drink or not. You weren’t in the mood to but now that you’ve seen Jungkook with another girl, you might.

“Kook, Y/n, want a shot?” Taehyung asked, trying to get you both to go back with everyone.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook said. He had a small sip earlier but he’s not here to drink all night then get stuck Ubering--especially not now that you’re here. What if you go home with him [he means take you home].

“Y/n?” He turned to you only and you contemplated. Jungkook bit his lip in thought, tempted to say no on your behalf but he wanted to know what you’d do. Taehyung invited you tonight and last weekend too, why? He’s happy you’re here but why is Taehyung the one making a move?

“I’m good, I’ll get something else,” You lied, turning away from the group. Part of you wanted to leave then and there but Jimin dropped you off and you’d need to call him back.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you to the bar but you didn’t try and order anything. He even asked if you wanted something but you didn’t, “Jungkook just be honest, should I leave? I know you said you want me here but I don’t know… if you wanna hang out with your friends or, yknow, other girls I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. I just came because I wanted to talk but… I don’t know.”

“Is it because of Sera? Y/n, I don’t like her or anything. I want you here, I’m sorry for not inviting you,” Jungkook tried to reassure you but you weren’t really listening.

“This isn’t about her, it’s you. You’re the one being confusing, Kook,” You admitted.

“Me?” He looked genuinely taken back, “How?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as a shield between you knowing he’d try and pull you closer like he usually did. You weren’t the type to argue with someone in public but you were a little annoyed.

“Are we friends? Because if we are don’t try and kiss me then ignore me for days and go out with someone else—“

“Are you serious right now?” He asked, “That’s what you’re mad about? You’ve been doing that to me for the past few weeks with your friend Namjoon.”

“What? That’s not true, I’ve told you every time I was gonna hang out with him. You only call me when you think I’m with someone else,” You told him bitterly.

“You don’t honestly believe that. I call you more than you bother reaching out to me. You only call me when you need a ride or you’re drunk and bored,” Jungkook said, standing a foot away from you so you could hear him better, “You flirt with me and I think there’s something there but then you brush me off or go with someone else. I’ve been trying to make things more clear but you make it so hard.”

“I make it hard?“ Your jaw nearly dropped, “Alright this is stupid. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He knows what you’re doing and he doesn’t want to play along. Any time the two of you talk about something a little too complicated you start to backtrack in order to avoid it. No, if you wanted him to be honest you had to let him. After the first night you almost kissed, you didn’t message him for a couple days. He’s the one who reach out to you. This time around he’s the one that left because Namjoon was on your phone and he didn’t know what to make of it. He should’ve asked if anything was serious between the two of you but he was too cowardly to do it and left instead. Maybe you were mad he didn’t reach out but why didn’t you try? Yes, you came here hopefully looking for him but the second you see him talking to someone else and confront him about it suddenly you’re shutting down?

Who’s leading who on?

Yoongi saw most of your interaction from across the bar. You weren’t full on arguing but it’s obvious the two of you had things you wanted to say but didn’t know how. After a while he didn’t want to just sit back and ignore it. He at least wanted to know if you were both alright.

When he made his way over he tried asking you again if you wanted a drink or if Jungkook wanted to join him outside. You took that as a sign to make an escape for a moment and rushed to say, “I’m going to the restroom.”

Jungkook was stuck between following and waiting for you or going with Yoongi but his hand trembled with nerves and he needed fresh air. His friend offered him a smoke and he took it reluctantly knowing you’d hate the smell of it on him. Even when he’s sort of upset with you he can’t make himself do something you don’t like.

“What are you guys fighting about?” Yoongi asked taking the cigarette Jungkook rejected and lit one for himself.

“It’s stupid,” Jungkook mumbled under his breath.

“Clearly not when you look worked up,” Yoongi said, “Tell me.”

“There’s been a couple times that we almost kissed and I thought she was talking to someone else but now she’s acting upset with me and I don’t know why. I’m not doing anything, the other night we almost kissed again but I couldn’t bring myself to do it and then the guy texts her. I didn’t know Taehyung asked her to come and now she thinks I don’t want her here and probably thinks I’m into Sera but I’m not,” Jungkook began to let it all out, hands running through his hair nervously.

Yoongi couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face over the fact that you guys had never kissed before. It was sort of a running joke between all of them that you’re both secretly hooking up but it appears not to be the case. You both had been good friends until then and all the bottled up emotions are finally begging to be let out. It made him chuckle over how dumb it was.

“Did you bother to ask her about him? Actually ask and not make assumptions like you always do?” Yoongi asked, “Because honestly, I think you’re both into each other and don’t know what to do about it.”

“You don’t get it hyung, I can’t just ask Y/n that…” Jungkook groaned with frustration, “I’m being so pathetic, aren’t I?”

“A little. You pay for a parking spot specifically for Y/n and she’s not even your girlfriend. You want her to be so just talk it out.”

“I’m gonna talk to her,” Jungkook bit his lip, watching Yoongi finish up and ask him if we was ready to go back in. When he did, you were standing there talking to Sera and he wasn’t sure what it could be about.

Honestly, it was nothing to worry about. She saw you looking clueless after your restroom break and introduced herself as one of Yoongi’s friends. Although you wanted to ask her about Jungkook she didn’t even bring him up. When he went up to you both but placed a dominant hand around your waist.

It answered what Sera already knew, that he was claimed for even if neither of you said it. His heart was with you.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked suddenly, “For the other night?”

“No, I’m confused,” You let him turn you in his arms so that you faced him, “I thought you wanted to kiss but then you stop it and when I wake up you’re gone. It’s fine if you just want to be friends but don’t lead me on like that.”

For a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t think you’d say it so bluntly but you did. You’ve been thinking about those Almost Kisses you’ve shared just as much as he has. He just didn’t expect you to be thinking he was leading you on. He thought you were leading him on.

“I’m not… Can we go and talk somewhere?” He asked, trying to take your hand in his but you rejected his advance. Once again you probably looked like a couple arguing and it was so stupid.

“I just wanna go,” You told him and to keep you from leaving he pushed his keys into your hands.

“Let’s go then,” He said. You looked at him with a small smile, feeling somewhat upset with him but also unsure what to do. Part of you wanted to leave on your own but you also wanted to hear him out.

You pushed them back into his hand with a sigh, “No, you’re here with your friends, I shouldn’t have even bothered.”

“Y/n, I don’t care I wanna leave with you, let’s go,” He turned to his friends, not bothering to get closer as he began to wave, “I’m gonna call it a night guys, Y/n’s taking me home.”

“Kook,” You couldn’t help but whine. He just smiled, leading you out the club and you learned he wasn’t kidding. He really was making you take him home in his own car, hoping it’d keep you from parting ways with him tonight.

“I didn’t know it seemed like I was leading you on,” Jungkook said, almost sounding bitter at the thought of it. He slumped back in the passenger’s seat staring out at the dark city lights trying to process what you time him not too long ago.

You didn’t say anything and that made him turn to you, “You’re the one that’d ditch me for that Namjoon guy.”

“I didn’t ditch you, every single time you asked me about him and I tried telling you how it was, you’d stop me,” You reminded him, thinking back to every time he’d bring up someone else and ignore every time you told him it wasn’t anything serious, “And how was I not supposed to think you were leading me on? One second you act like you want to kiss and the next you’re pushing me away.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong about how I acted but it was because I was jealous. You knew I was jealous I just kept acting like I wasn’t and look at where we are now. You’re mad at me,” Jungkook shook his head, “And I want to kiss you. I think about kissing you all the time and that night—those nights… I regret not doing it but sometimes I can’t read you.”

“I never know where your head’s at. One second you’re in my arms and I think there’s something between us but then you… I don’t know, I feel like you know I’ll always be around,” He admitted, looking out his window to avoid your sudden stare.

The rest of the ride was silent and though Jungkook could tell there was a lot on your mind you weren’t saying any of it. He feels more assured now knowing that you felt the same way he did but it’s like going in circles talking about this. He just wants to get you in his arms and act like you both haven’t made it more complicated than it needs to be.

When you parked his car in the lot of his apartment, you turned the engine off and turned to face him, confused on what to do now. Do you sleep over or get yourself a ride home? Jungkook had pushed his seat back to get more comfortable but now it felt like you were farther from him than he liked. You looked back to find him already staring at you. His eyes fell to the way you nervously licked your lips and he couldn’t take it anymore.

The sound of his belt unbuckling caught you off guard you almost missed how he leant forward so suddenly you nearly pulled back. His lips collided with yours with such need that you met with equal eagerness. He slipped his hand down your hair toward your neckline keeping you from pulling back. Jungkook doesn’t know how to describe the kiss.

It was good, better than he imagined but was it the kiss or just you? Was it the fact that was finally getting a taste of you? You leaned forward, bumping into the middle console to kiss him a little harder, tongues meeting in a wet, tender way that had you gasping lightly. If this was what was on your mind for so long, you now knew why. Kissing him felt good, felt different and you didn’t want to stop.

“Inside,” He tried to say between kisses but he found it hard to pull away. The word just came out in an airy whisper, struggling to find sound.

He pulled back with a small groan, hand in your hair and forehead pressed against yours as he tried to catch his breath, “Let’s go inside, please?”

Your small nod was enough for him to storm out of the car, rounding to your side and helping you out of the car, leading you up. Up the stairs he stopped every now and then to plant a small kiss on your shoulder or neck, arms around your waist.

“Don’t like when you’re mad at me,” Jungkook said, unlocking his door and taking you in, “And I was jealous about Namjoon, so stupidly jealous because he texted you and I saw it on your phone an—“

“There’s nothing going on between us,” You assured him, “And I was never mad at you. I thought you didn’t want me—“

“Crazy, you’re crazy to think that,” Jungkook cupped your face in his hands, “You’re the only one I want and I’m sorry I didn’t make it more clear.”

You smiled, arms around his neck as he hoisted you up so he could kiss you better and walk toward his living room, “Me too.”

He carried you to the couch, taking a seat and pulling you onto his lap with ease. You didn’t hesitate to make yourself comfortable, leaning down to kiss him as his hands moved up your waist. He let you take the lead for a little bit, head tilted to the side when you kissed near his ear making a small smile appear on his face. His ears were sensitive and everyone knew that. Whenever you tried whispering something in his ear, he’d practically have to shove you away or it’d make goosebumps form on his skin. Now you’re kissing up his ear lobe and he was sinking into the couch pulling you with him.

A light frown left his lips when he felt you nip at his lobe with your teeth and his head fell forward, nearly bumping your shoulder making him tug on your neckline to kiss your exposed collarbone. You lifted his chin with a light finger touch and met him with a kiss. His hands slipped under your top, feeling along your smile like he’s done before. He likes to feel how warm you are under his fingertips, like to feel your natural curves. You liked the way his rough hands felt against your sides when he ran his hands up, nearly touching your chest before tracing them back down.

Jungkook couldn’t hide his growing erection when you pressed down against his lap. It didn’t help that you were licking along his bottom lip tugging on it with your teeth until you were tongue kissing. He sat straighter, hands itching to rip your top off. He’s seen you in sultry outfits that made his head turn everytime and he’s interested to see what was under.

“Kook,” You sighed softly, pulling away from the sloppy kiss to catch your breath. Your lips felt number and swollen and his did too. He was so damn kissable and you can’t believe you haven’t done this yet. What were you so worried about all this time? He looked at you with these spark in his eyes and lip between his teeth, hands around your waist and bulge pressed against you. You looked down at his lap, shifting back a little before grinding forward again. A deep groan caught in his throat when you did it and he looked at you hopefully.

“You’re so hot,” Your hands ran along his lean shoulders down toward the bottom of his shirts and helped you yank it off of him without a second thought. You’ve seen him shirtless countless of times, in person and on the phone. You’ve felt his body when he’s rolled over in his sleep to cuddle and it doesn’t ever leave your mind how attractive your friend is. You remember when he first started getting his tattoos done and when he first started boxing. He got so much stronger and his tattoos just got so much hotter.

You leaned forward, kissing softly against his neck, hands feeling up his abs and hip bucking into him. His hands guided your hips against him, hard dick feeling constricted in his jeans and when you kissed near his pecs he released a light moan.

“Stop, you’re going to drive me insane if you don’t,” He groaned, hands pulling on your top.

“You want me stop?” You asked, grinding down on him. You were starting to feel needy and aroused. If he wanted you to stop, maybe you should before you take it too far.

“No,” Jungkook finally yanked your top off you, catching your lips with his, tongue searching the inside of your mouth, “Don’t want you to.”

His hands wandered south, inching up the small fitted skirt you wore tonight. Last time he saw you in something revealing was when you’d gone off to see Namjoon wearing a dress. He remembered eyeing you closely wishing you weren’t leaving and wondering if you’d dressed up for someone else. Now you’re grinding down on him with your skirt bunch around your hips, bucking into him with a thin pair of panties on and it drove him insane. His jeans were in the way of letting him feel your head against him and he couldn’t take it. A small squeal left your lips when he swiftly turned you to lie on the couch, trapped underneath him with your legs around his waist.

Jungkook kept his hardened dick in his pants, pressed between your spread legs as he kissed down your neck, leaving love bites behind while his hands began to trace your sides. You breathed heavily in anticipation when he tugged your bra down exposing your breasts over the cups and he didn’t hesitate to keep going. His touch was eager as he licked between them, cupping your right boob with his hand while kissing the other. He sucked your hardened nipple into his, humping his erection against your clit. You released a small moan when he ran his tongue around your bud, lost in himself Jungkook groaned when you pulled on his hair softly.

You snuck a hand between your bodies and reached for his belt. The jeans felt rough against your wet panties but it also felt good to have something to bump into. In all honesty, you liked grinding against him but you need more.

Now.

Jungkook lifted his body up slightly, not bothering to break away from worshiping you in kisses and helped you unbuckle his belt.

“You want it?” Jungkook asked in a husky whisper, throat sore and lust in his eyes. You nodded your head watching him sit back on his haunches, using his skilled fingers to undo it the rest of the way and tug the zipper down. He kicked them off without much or a care for the things on his coffee table and with his other hand, he held your hips, “Say it.”

A soft whine left your lips as you got the hint and turned onto your stomach, your head so close to the armrest of the couch and knees digging into the cushion below you. You’ve been in this living room a hundred times but never thought you’d be in this position. He pulled your panties down with ease, not bothering with the skirt as he pulled it up so it was around your waist and gave him a perfect view of what you looked like bent over. He couldn’t help but place a hand on the round of your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

Jungkook was pathetically desperate for you and couldn’t find it in himself to pull away enough to pull his briefs all the way down. Instead, he lowered them enough for his hard cock to spring free. You hadn’t said anything yet, seemingly stuck in a lust filled daze, arms using the side of the couch for support. He could see the slick lining your pretty cunt and he needed to be closer. He lined his member up with your files, grinding against you and feeling your wetness coat his member in arousal.

You released a moan, arching your back into the couch and ass back on him, “I want it.”

His cock twitched with need when you said it in your usual whiny tone. The tone you use when you call him late at night because you’re bored or annoyed with him. Jungkook nodded his head even though you couldn’t see him, he used a hand on your hips and the other in his length to catch the small hook of your entrance. You were so unbelievably wet that his dick was covered, it made guiding the tip of his cock against your wet pussy better.

“You’re so wet, baby, fuck,” Jungkook groaned, palming your ass as you waited so prettily for him to just fuck you already.

He can tell you were getting impatient by the way you shook your hips side to side and he couldn’t help but smile. Feeling warmth burst through his chest he leant over your body, resting his arm next to yours and kissed your neck. Without another word, he pressed his face against your hair and thrusted forward. With just the first thrust, you felt the stretch of your walls around his girth. It hurt for only a few seconds as you took him in and you lifted your head, stopped by how Jungkook hugged you from behind.

“Oh,” You gasped turning your head to look at him and he caught your open lips with a tongue kiss that made you relax against him. It took him a moment before he pushed the rest of his length into your tight pussy with a grunt.

Once he felt you relax, he tried to sit back, thrusting into you with care trying to adjust. You pushed back against his length, meeting his thrusts until you caught a steady rhythm and Jungkook’s fingers dug into your hips, watching the way you looked as he fucked you from behind in his living room. You felt so good to him. Your walls tightened around him deliciously making his head tip back losing himself to the feeling. “Right there.”

At this angle with your back down and ass up, his dick felt your innermost walls clench, he felt the curve of your pelvis and your butt felt soft.

“Fuck,” your head fell against the arm rest trying to keep up with your pace but he was bigger than you ever could’ve thought of. You’ve felt a hint of it before but to have him inside you making your body shiver with need it was hard to focus on your movements. Jungkook could feel you slow down as you felt the pleasure build up inside you. It brought him back to attention and with more assertive energy, he placed a hand on your ass and the other on your lower back, making sure you stayed in position so he could fuck you.

Your jaw dropped when his strokes changed making him reach deeper inside you. This position always made you feel dirty in a good way and left you a moaning mess, letting him slam his hips into you. Swear beaded his forehead, fucking you chasing his and your pleasure.

“So good, so fucking good,” He groaned, arm circling around your waist and lowering more of his hips into you. The tip of his cock hit that good spot deep inside that made you want to clench your eyes shut.

“Koo,” You tried to get out more of his name but it was harder to hold yourself together, fucking back onto his dick with eagerness, needy whimpers leaving your lips. You pushed against the armrest trying to stand up a little, itching to be closer to him.

You didn’t even need to tell him anything, he pulled your back against his chest until your were nearly sitting back on his dick, grinding against him, taking every inch he gave you. He placed a hand on your navel, keeping you flush to his body, dropping needy kisses on your neck knowing it’d leave love bites in their wake.

Your orgasm began to build up inside you, so close to popping and it made you a little more pliant to take whatever he gave you. You fucked yourself back onto him while his other hand groped your tits, listening to his whispers of need in your ear telling you how good you’re taking it.

“Just like that, cum for me,” Jungkook said with a deep rasp to his usual delicate tone. It’s like he wanted to walk you through it and fuck, it was working.

The moment your cunt clamped down around his dick leaving him to hiss through gritted teeth, he knew you were going to cum. He let you fuck yourself to release, whining in his arms and legs shaking as he held you up.

He slowed his hips, keeping himself to the hilt inside you feeling the way your orgasm made your body tremble for him. Your pussy was dripping around his length and he was tracing soothing lines against your spine as you fell back to the couch trying to catch your breath, “Good girl.”

His words had a clear effect on you still as your pussy twitched, making him smile. He never took you as the type to like pet names but he knew you liked to be praised. Well, he knew you hated being scolded but usually you listened to him when he did. Now he knows praising you feels a lot better.

Jungkook sucked in a tight breath as he began to pull out his aching member, worried you’d be feel uncomfortable right now. The need to cum was so heavily set into his body but he wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t wearing any protection and though there’s a chance you’re taking anything, he wasn’t going to risk losing himself inside you. A little whine left your lips as he slipped out and you couldn’t help but look back at him with furrowed brows.

“You good?” He asked with concern, caressing your side lovingly. You didn’t say anything, turning to sit up and wrap your arms around him. He groaned when you rubbed against his cock on accident and you looked down at it immediately.

He caught your stare and smiled, “Can we finish this somewhere else? The couch is a little too small…”

You laughed, “There’s more?”

You were teasing him and you both knew it which only made him roll his eyes playfully. With a swift move, he lifted you up, carrying you to the bathroom catching you by surprise, “You didn’t think we were done yet did you? What about me?”

✮

A MONTH LATER

“You guys are so bad at hiding it,” Mirae said as she sat in the packed booth of your friends, all watching you hold hands under the table. You looked at her with feigned innocence, shoving Junhkook’s hand off your thigh.

“Hiding what?” You asked, looking at everyone around. Taehyung sat on one end, Yoongi next to him, Jimin there and Mirae too. They all looked equally unimpressed but your act but it was somewhat funny.

Jungkook tried to hide a grin but he was so bad at it. He smiled at you warmly, “Told you.”

“It’s your fault, I bet we could’ve hid it a little longer if you didn’t smile,” You tried to say but even you didn’t believe yourself. Jungkook didn’t even bother to look guilty as he broke out in a laugh. Yoongi chuckled, looking at the way Jungkook’s cheeks flushed red when you looked at him a little too long.

“I knew the second Y/n stopped coming to work all moody because she wasn’t talking to Jungkook,” Jimin pointed out and Mirae agreed quickly.

Hoseok sighed, “I knew when Jungkook stopped giving me killer workouts at the gym. I almost broke my shoulder.”

“Whoa, I’m a great personal trainer,” Jungkook put a hand to his chest, “Don’t come at my profession.”

“I’m not, I’m pointing out the fact that you were always moodier when you didn’t see Y/n,” Hoseok argued.

Jungkook couldn’t even deny it so he didn’t try. Instead he place his hand back down on your thigh and leaned into you to share the dinner menu, “Are you gonna try something new? You’re picky.”

“I might want to expand my horizons,” You looked over everything with a concentrated expression.

He raised an amused brow at you, surprised when the server came around and you actually did try something new. He let the others go before him and when it came to being his turn, he ordered your usual.

“Are you switching it up too?” The server asked, all too familiar with the two of you and your eating preferences.

“It’s in case she doesn’t like it,” He admitted with a sly wink in your direction. You hit his arm playfully and turned toward your friends who glared at you grossly.

“I’m losing my appetite,” Jimin teased, looking at Mirae as she texted away on her phone, “You?”

“Kinda, I don’t know, Jisoo just asked what I’m doing,” Mirae said.

Jungkook looked up with slight interest. He tried not to be the jealous type but… Jisoo is friends with Namjoon. He’s met the guy now and he’s not that bad but he’s also way taller than him with a bulkier physique.

“What is he doing? Tell him and his friends join us,” Jungkook said suddenly making her furrow her brows at him.

“He wants to see Namjoon again, I think he’s got a little crush on him,” You told her, making him shrug.

“The guy is built,” he said, “I just wanna know what pre-workout he takes.”

“And to think you spent all this time not liking him because you didn’t like Y/n talking to him,” Taehyung said, feeling the need to bring up the awkward part. You glared at him but he only smiled mischievously.

“Hey, let’s move on from that,” You said leaning against Jungkook who pulled you closer, “We’re all just friends.”

“Except you two, so can you just say you’re dating already and we can go on with the usual?” Yoongi asked impatiently.

“I thought you said we were bad at hiding it,” your boyfriend sat up, pulling you into his arms giving you a tight hug and looked at his friends, “But fine, this is my best friend and girlfriend.”

“Whoa, I thought I was your best friend now. Y/n can’t have both titles,” Taehyung scoffed, sitting up, “I practically brought you two together. I mean yeah I was fucked up that first night but once I caught on I was the one always inviting Y/n over.”

“I’m the one who told Jungkook to get his head out of the gutters and talk to Y/n,” Yoongi said with a raised finger to state a point.

“Not to join in on the fight but… I also tried getting Y/n to talk about Jungkook and drove her to JJ’s the other night,” Jimin leaned forward to say and suddenly they were all arguing over who brought the two of you together.

It was stupid but friendly and it made you laugh with amusement.

“I’m not the jealous type, right?” Jungkook asked you as he thought about what Taehyung said earlier instead of their current banter, “I didn’t care that you talked to Namjoon… I just, y'know I didn’t want you to like him, there’s a difference.”

His face looked confused in a surprisingly cute way for your motorcycle riding, tattoo covered boyfriend and it made you smile. “Of course you’re not the jealous type.”

Jungkook smiled back warmly, leaning into you for a quick kiss.

When your food arrived you regretted ordering it just like he knew you would and he switched you plates like he knew he would. Aside from the obvious displays of affection nothing else changed for the two of you. Or at least you don’t think it did.

He still came over whenever he felt like it and you bothered him at any hour of the day. When he wasn’t sleeping in your bed trying to keep you from going to work he was checking his phone for a text from you throughout the day.

You’re not sure if it’s because he was your friend first but your relationship with Jungkook was a perfect mix of love and affection with ease and playfulness.

Your best friend was the one for you and he’d been right in front of you the whole time.

::.

NO PART TWO

two fics in two months??? who do I think I am 😜

honestly I kinda liked this friendly little vibe. I wanted more angst but idkkk. they kinda gave toxic but not like super hide red flag toxic. they’re in their twenties yall 😭

I’m preparing for this angsty yandere fic for Taehyung so I wanted to something a little softer, slice of life vibe

anyways like always, love feedback so tell me what you think!

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @ily4jknity @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @aindrila @cherrymoonlight t @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpoplover @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife [also if you’ve tried joining masterlist but haven’t been added it’s bc I’m only allowed to tag 50 people! I usually try and warn when I’m going to post so I recommend turning on my post notifs when you know a fic is coming sorry 😭]

[jeonginsleftcheek]

With you, always

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader (implied fem)

genre: fluff, suggestive, pinch of angst

wc: 5.5k

synopsis: you ask your best friend to help you win over your crush.

warnings: college!au, fake dating, best friends to lovers trope, crying, a few kissing scenes and one make out scene

a/n: wanted to try my hand out at a fake dating scenario, hope you like this one🥹🫶🏻

(i also needed something cute and fluffy bcs i had the shittiest week😭)

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

masterlist

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but for Hyunjin today was the most important day of his life.

It had been more than a month since he started gathering the courage to finally confess to his best friend, you.

He was more than nervous, tossing and turning in his bed the night prior, imagining all the scenarios, every single possibility from you falling into his arms to you slapping him and walking away forever.

He couldn't stand the thought of the last option, hoping that even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, maybe you'd still be his best friend cause he really would suck it up for you, just so he can stay by your side.

But Hyunjin was 99% sure you felt the same, and that the 1% was just his own doubts creating negative outcomes in his mind.

You've been best friends for almost five years now, meeting through your mutual friend Changbin who you lived close to and hung out with, inevitably becoming close to Hyunjin too.

Changbin moved away but still kept in touch, leaving Hyunjin and you to bond with each other; going as far as attending the same university.

You've been inseparable since then, there was rarely any moment you didn't spend together.

There was no way you spent so much time with him and didn't come to love him the way he loved you; that's what Hyunjin kept telling himself.

Anyways, you were always so good to him, it must mean something right?

Hyunjin's palms were clammy as he wiped them on his jeans for the nth time today, giving himself the ick for a moment.

He was on the edge, jittery as he kept shifting from foot to foot, waiting for you to arrive so you can go to your classes together.

He had it all planned.

After class he would ask you to meet up in your 'secret place', a bench under a tree near the campus where you two would sit and spend time together, and there he would gift you the painting he had carefully created for you, the beautiful everlasting bouquet of flowers that would never wither just like his love for you.

Then he would tell you how much you mean to him, how he has loved you this whole time... And he didn't know how you'd react, maybe your eyes would tear up, maybe you'd hug him instantly... But he knew it would end with a sweet kiss and Hyunjin asking you to be his.

He got lost in the scenarios he's been making up for weeks, not even noticing that you appeared before him.

"Earth to Hyunjin?" you wave your hand in front of his face and he snaps out of his thoughts, hoping he didn't say anything out loud and accidentally revealed his plan.

"Oh, sorry I'm still asleep." Hyunjin chuckles, his cheeks rosy.

"That's why I got you this." you give him a cup of coffee, holding another cup in your other hand.

"See now, this is why I hang out with you." Hyunjin nods, grabbing the cup from your hand.

Your fingers touch for a moment and he feels electricity run through his body.

"Glad to know you're just using me for coffee." you act annoyed even though you know he's just teasing you.

"And your notes. You're way better at taking them than I am." he says after taking a sip of his beverage, a smug smile spreading on his face.

"That's cause you daydream 24/7, you dork." you nudge him with your shoulder as you start making your way across the campus.

"I do not." Hyunjin pouts.

"Yes, you do. You were literally doing it just now when I came up to you." you poke his side and he jumps a little, letting out a squeak.

"I was just... nevermind. Listen-" Hyunjin starts, swallowing a big lump that's forming in his throat.

You look up at him, your eyes big and curious as you stare into his, making him melt into the ground.

"There's something I want to tell you. Today. I mean, later. Yeah. We can meet up at our spot?"

You notice his voice trembling a little, hoping it's not some bad news.

"Really? I have something I wanna tell you too." you smile wide and Hyunjin's heart starts pounding against his chest.

Did you think of confessing to him too?

"What?" he laughs in disbelief. "About what?"

"Well... Should I just say it? I'm impatient, you know that." your eyes sparkle as you keep looking at Hyunjin, your smile wide and cheeks dusted in pink.

"Yeah." Hyunjin's throat constricts. This is it.

"Okay. Well. Remember Minho? We have a few classes with him?"

Hyunjin frowns. What does Minho have to do with anything?

"Yeah, vaguely. What about him?" he gulps.

"I think I have a crush on him."

And just like that, Hyunjin's ears start ringing as he stands there, feeling like someone just dumped icy water all over him and also smacked him with the bucket for good measure.

"What?" he doesn't want to believe that you just said that.

"Minho, I have a crush on him. Like- it's been there for some time but it was just a little one, I didn't pay attention to it but last weekend I ran into him and we talked, and he was really sweet."

"Is that all that it took for you to develop a crush on him?" Hyunjin's scowl is evident, annoyance written all over his face.

"Hyunjin!" you were taken aback by his tone. "No. It's just- we had a brief conversation and I felt like we had so much in common. I thought you'd be happy for me, you always tease me that I'll die alone if I don't find someone."

Hyunjin can see the confusion and insecurities reflecting in your eyes and his face softens.

He can't be cruel to you, never.

"I- I am happy for you. I just... Need to process."

"Are you jealous?" you smirk. "You'll always be my best friend, Jinnie, you know I'll never replace you."

"Best friend, huh?" Hyunjin scoffs. "Great. I just remembered I gotta go do something." he turns around, muttering under his breath.

"What? Class is about to start, where are you going?" you look at him confusedly as Hyunjin stares at the floor, walking away from you.

"Hyunjin, watch out!" you try to warn him, but it's already too late, his head collides with one of the trees growing in front of the building, the force of it making him fall back down on his butt as he wails loudly, grabbing at his forehead, his coffee spilled by his side.

"This is what I get." he mumbles, his bottom lip trembling as his eyes water.

"You dumbass." you appear by his side in mere seconds. "Let me see."

Hyunjin puts his hands down as you inspect his forehead.

"I think it's gonna be okay." you say, leaning so close to him so he can feel your warmth and smell your shampoo.

"Since when is this tree here?" Hyunjin grunts.

"Since like 60 years ago." you giggle.

Before he can compute what's happening, you grab Hyunjin's face and lean in, pressing your lips on his forehead gently.

How could you do this and not love him?

His eyes water again.

"Oh, don't cry you drama queen. This is like the third time this week that you ran into something with that thick head of yours. By now, I think the tree took more damage than you." you joke, trying to lift the mood up.

Hyunjin chuckles a little, not being able to stay mad at you even though you were driving him crazy in this moment.

"Come on, let's go to class now." you help pull him up, throwing the spilled cup in the trash.

"Here, we can share my coffee." you give him your cup, and Hyunjin shakes his head.

"It's okay."

"Also, what were you going to tell me?" you beam at him and Hyunjin feels like someone has squeezed his heart and lungs.

"Nothing. It's not important." he forces a smile, finding it harder to breathe suddenly.

"Really? Sounded important to me."

"It's not. Forget about it." he says as you walk through the front door.

"Alright, if you say so."

The two of you sit in one of the back rows as always, your eyes immediately searching for Minho, who always sits up front.

It's one of the classes you share with him and you await eagerly to see him, hoping he'd look up and wave at you.

Hyunjin takes out his notebook and pen, trying to act normal even though he feels as if he's been shot right in the chest and his heart is now bleeding out slowly.

He hears you gasp quietly and looks up.

Minho just walked in, dressed in a sleek black shirt and some jeans, looking effortlessly perfect and Hyunjin can see you visibly perk up as you stare at the man with a smile.

You should be looking at Hyunjin like that.

No, Hyunjin shakes his head. He shouldn't be thinking like this, he should be happy for you, he should support you.

After all, that's what best friends do.

You're getting ready to wave, but Minho doesn't even spare a glance your way, his face unreadable as he sits down, talking to some guy that's sitting next to him.

You visibly deflate and Hyunjin feels bad, putting his hand on your shoulder to reassure you.

"I'm sure he'll say hello to you later." Hyunjin says and you nod at him with a sigh.

During the entire lecture, your eyes kept wandering over to Minho while Hyunjin kept his eyes on you, his heart breaking as he watched you falling for someone else right before his eyes.

Why the hell did he wait for so long to tell you how he feels?

Now, he's lost his chance.

Hyunjin slumps back in his seat and decides to actually start taking notes even though he knows he'll end up stealing yours like he always does.

For the last three days you've been gushing about Minho nonstop.

Minho did this, Minho did that, Minho said this, Minho said that. Minho, Minho, Minho.

Hyunjin was already sick of it and imagining that guy actually reciprocating your feelings and becoming your boyfriend was making Hyunjin's stomach churn.

Minho seemed to take some kind of interest in you, at least that's what you thought from the brief conversations you'd have with him in the halls while Hyunjin watched you interact with him, your eyes sparkly and cheeks rosy.

He wanted to smack his own forehead against the wall until it hurts enough so he can forget about the pain he feels on the inside.

But the more Hyunjin observed Minho, it seemed to him that the guy was just being polite to you, answering your questions with a small smile on his face, nodding here and there as you talked.

That was not the face of a man in love, at least that's what Hyunjin believed.

"Minho told me that this shirt really matches my eye color." you're almost jumping around Hyunjin and he rolls his eyes.

"It's ugly."

"Hyunjin!" you smack your best friend's arm and he winces, acting like you just broke his bones.

"What?" he looks at you, his brows furrowed.

"You're jealous, Hyun. Admit it." you smirk, poking his side.

"Am not. Let's just go to class."

"Did you know that Minho's a dancer?" you quip suddenly as the two of you sit down.

"So what? I dance too." Hyunjin answers, taking his notebook out and not sparing you a glance.

He can't bring himself to look at your face while you talk about your crush.

"I know you dance but I didn't know he does too. He told me I could come watch him practice some time." you smile and Hyunjin almost chokes on his breath.

"He w-what?"

"I'm gonna watch him dance." you smirk and Hyunjin shakes his head.

"Whatever. Enjoy."

"Come with me." you grab at his arm and he tries to swat you away.

"I don't want to."

"Come on, pleaseeeeee." you whine, pouting at your best friend as you lean your cheek on his shoulder.

Hyunjin melts when he looks down at you.

"Fine." he sighs.

"Yay!" you quickly kiss his cheek and Hyunjin dies on the inside a little. "You're the best, Jinnie."

"Yeah, yeah, I know I am." he smirks at you while shaking his head.

Hoping somewhere deep inside that this is just a phase.

-

The very same day, Minho has dance practice and you drag Hyunjin to the dance room to watch.

There are some other dancers there, and some people sitting and watching so the two of you sit down next to them.

Hyunjin takes out his phone and you frown at him.

"Aren't you gonna watch with me?" you ask.

"I don't really care about his dancing. But you go ahead and enjoy." he shrugs.

"Sure." you look at Hyunjin for a few more moments as he concentrates on scrolling, a little sigh escaping your lips.

You're a bit worried since Hyunjin has never acted like this before and you kept wracking your brain, trying to figure out what is going on with him.

The music starts soon and you look up, your eyes falling on Minho.

His dance moves are sharp and on time, executed so smoothly, you've never seen someone dance so perfectly before.

You stare in awe and Hyunjin looks up with an annoyed face, his eyes traveling between the two of you and how flabbergasted you look.

When Minho finishes dancing, you're ready for him to come up to you and talk but instead a guy skips towards him and starts talking with a big smile on his face, his arms flailing around in excitement.

Minho smiles wide, eyes all sparkly and cheeks all rosy, you've never seen him react like that.

"So, what did you think?" you ask Hyunjin, hoping Minho won't just ignore you.

"He's too stiff." Hyunjin mutters, still looking at his phone.

"He totally isn't." you squint your eyes at him before standing up.

Sadly for you, Minho doesn't spare you a glance, quickly leaving the room with the guy who joined him.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Hyunjin laughs in disbelief.

"Keep your voice down." you pinch his thigh.

"Ow!" he swats your hand away. "There is no way, y/n. I'm not gonna pretend to be your boyfriend."

"Please, Hyun! Who else will I ask? You want me to go to some stranger?!" you almost yell yourself and Hyunjin shushes you.

"What's in it for me?" Hyunjin crosses his arms and leans back.

"Mm, you're helping your lovely best friend?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"This is crazy." he shakes his head.

"Is that a yes or no?" you beam at him.

"Fine. Fine, I'll be your fake boyfriend." Hyunjin feels like crying and laughing at the same time, the absurdity of his reality was really something.

"Yes! Thank you, Jinnie!" you throw your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"I owe you." you mutter into him.

"Damn right you do." he exhales, trying to calm his fast beating heart down.

For some reason, in your mind it made perfect sense.

Minho needed a nudge to make a move on you, and what better way to nudge him than making him jealous?

Hyunjin thought it was the dumbest idea he had ever heard but at this point, he was hoping that through your fake relationship you'd come to realize that he would be the perfect boyfriend for you, not some random guy you talked to a few times.

While he was trying to fall asleep in his bed that night, Hyunjin wondered just how far are you willing to take the lie.

-

The next morning, while Hyunjin waited for you to arrive like he always did, his heart was beating fast.

He was so nervous about the whole ordeal, not knowing how you'll approach him.

"Jinnie!" you waved slightly with a cup of coffee as soon as you spotted him.

He waved back a bit reluctantly as you beamed at him.

"Morning. Coffee for my handsome boyfriend." you smirked as you gave him his cup.

What the actual fuck?

His legs trembled for a moment and Hyunjin felt like the ground was crumling underneath his feet and pretty soon he'll be joining it.

"Don't say it like that." he freaked out on the inside, hoping he wasn't blushing too hard.

"What? We need to get into character." you smiled, hooking your arm with his and practically dragging him towards the campus.

Oh, you are so going to be the end of him.

"Why can't we just act like we normally do?" Hyunjin whined as you approached the building.

"Because it won't be believeable. We have to act sweet like... like imagine if we were actually dating what would you do?"

You must be crazy, Hyunjin thinks as his lips fall open in shock.

"I'd probably kiss you." he says, half joking and knowing you'd never say yes to something so ludicrous.

"Okay, let's do it." you stand close to him, your hand slipping down to his as you interlace your fingers.

"What?!" Hyunjin yells and you squeeze his hand as a few people look your way.

"Hyunjin. Make it believeable. Come on, kiss me." you nod quickly.

Hyunjin's lips open and close a few times as he searches your face.

"In front of everyone? Shouldn't our first kiss be more intimate?" Hyunjin swallows and that's when your cheeks become rosy.

"They don't know it's our first kiss. Plus it's just pretend so let's do it." you don't know how much your words hurt him but Hyunjin is a fool for you so he nods.

"Okay." he lets go of your hand only to cup your cheek, and for some reason your heartbeat picks up speed.

You chalk it up to not kissing anyone for so long.

It's definitely not because of Hyunjin, right?

His eyes soften as he leans in and you meet him halfway, hearing his breath hitch before your lips finally make contact.

Hyunjin doesn't care why you're kissing him, because in this moment nothing really exists except you and him, the world around you melting away.

His lips are soft against yours, he tastes of coffee and the chocolate croissant he had for breakfast and just so Hyunjin.

It's exactly what you imagined he'd taste like.

Not that you ever thought about kissing your best friend.

You lean back before thoughts consume you and before the kiss can escalate.

Hyunjin feels like you just took his breath away.

"See? It went good." you say, but your voice trembles and your face is red.

"I think that was better than good." Hyunjin pouts but before you can retaliate someone calls out to you.

The two of you turn towards the voice and see Chan, one of your acquaintances from class as he approaches you with a smirk.

"Did you two finally get together?" he asks and Hyunjin coughs as your eyes widen.

"I- yes we did." you answer quickly as Hyunjin tranforms into a frozen tomato next to you.

"Gosh, I'm so happy for you guys. I always knew you were into each other, it was so obvious. Good luck!" Chan throws finger guns your way before running off to class.

His words echo in your mind. You were obvious? What the heck does that mean?

"Let's go to class." you grip Hyunjin's hand and he nods, still stunned by the kiss you shared and what Chan had said.

You sit in your usual spot in the back, Minho arriving a few minutes later and you visibly perk up.

"Quick, put your arm around me!" you startle Hyunjin who was doodling in his notebook but he does exactly what you asked.

His arm wraps around your shoulder and he brings you closer to his body just as Minho looks up your way.

You wave at him and Minho waves back with a smile, his eyes moving to Hyunjin shortly before he turns around and sits down.

"Did you see that? Do you think he looked jealous?" you whisper to your best friend.

"Maybe." Hyunjin shrugs, retracting his arm.

"Maybe?" you whine. "I need a yes not a maybe."

"Give it some time, y/n." Hyunjin is back to doodling.

How is he gonna endure this torture?

As it always was on the weekends, Hyunjin came to your place to hang out.

Usually your roommate was staying with her boyfriend every weekend so you had the apartment all to yourself.

After a good old gossip session and a movie marathon with snacks, Hyunjin and you were still snuggled up in your bed.

You were barely awake now, trying to focus on the third movie in a row while Hyunjin was keeping his eyes only on you.

A small smile danced on his lips as he observed your pouty face, your eyes fighting to stay open as you blinked tiredly, your face illuminated only by the tv.

He scooted closer to you, putting his arm around you and that jolted you from your half asleep state.

"What are you doing?" you asked and he chuckled, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"Getting my cuddles." Hyunjin smirks.

"Who gave you cuddle privileges?" you smirk back, deciding to tease him a little.

"I'm your best friend, of course I get cuddle privileges. Plus, consider it your payment for making me fake-date you." Hyunjin nuzzles into you, making you shiver a little.

"So it's that horrible to date me, hm?" you giggle, some kind of tension washing over you.

"Oh yeah, the absolute worst." Hyunjin jokes and you smack his arm immediately.

"Hey!" you protest and he laughs.

It's quiet for some time, and you close your eyes, your body is suddenly aware of everything.

You're aware of Hyunjin's warmth, his familiar and comforting scent, the way his breath hits your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek, the heaviness of his arm and leg thrown over you and your heart starts beating faster.

You wonder why since this is not the first time Hyunjin and you cuddled, you started this tradition a year ago, it became normal to cuddle every weekend he stayed over.

You suddenly also wondered if that was normal; to cuddle your guy best friend.

You also thought about the kiss the two of you shared, what mostly replayed in your mind wasn't the actual kiss, it was the way Hyunjin looked at you when you parted.

His eyes seemed full of love and affection, he seemed soft and putty in that moment like he really wanted to kiss you, like it meant so much to him.

"Hyunjin?"

"Hm?"

"Can we practice kissing?" your brain just always comes up with great ideas.

Hyunjin freezes, his body stiff against yours.

"What?" he looks up at you with a nervous chuckle.

"So that it's more believeable in public."

He smirks.

"Are you sure it's not because you liked kissing me?" Hyunjin jokes, though on the inside he hopes you'll say yes.

"Shut up!" you whine. "This is just pretend, okay?"

"Sure, if you say so." he stares at you with a grin and you don't know if you would rather slap him or kiss him.

"Go on then." you whisper.

Hyunjin chuckles at your impatience, throwing his head back for a moment as his laughter jostles you.

When he looks back at you, something shifts in his eyes and you swallow the lump in your throat.

He slowly leans in and why are you nervous suddenly?

Hyunjin's lips press against yours and this time you melt as he hovers above you, kissing you gently, his fingers caressing your cheek and tracing your skin.

Your hand comes up to hold the back of his neck and play with his hair which makes Hyunjin press against your lips harder, kissing you with more passion than before.

Your mind is dizzy suddenly, this is nothing like the innocent kiss you shared in public, and something starts stirring up inside you as you drown out the noise of the movie, focusing only on your best friend.

Oh my god, you're making out with your best friend!

That thought crosses your mind just when Hyunjin's big hand ends up on your waist, squeezing a little as his tongue swipes your lip and you hear it in his heavy breathing, how worked up he's getting.

Something inside you ignites when you part your lips, letting him push his tongue inside as he starts gently playing with yours.

You almost quit thinking, your brain feeling foggy as your fingers tangle in his hair and you pull just a little.

It's enough to make Hyunjin groan into you and that snaps you back into reality.

You gasp, suddenly backing away as Hyunjin slowly blinks his eyes open, his face filled with lust and confusion of the sudden stop, his plump lips even more swollen and red after kissing you.

You can't believe he looks so attractive.

"I think we should stop now." you gulp.

"Was it too much?" Hyunjin's voice is raspy and something throbs inside you.

"Yeah."

"You wanted to practice." he adds, his eyes glued to your lips.

You didn't know what to say. Suddenly, you felt so confused about your feelings.

It's not like you never imagined kissing your best friend or being in a relationship with him but it always seemed to you like you would never be able to cross that barrier.

Being Hyunjin's best friend was familiar, comfortable, you didn't want to spoil that.

"What's wrong?" Hyunjin asks, seeing the cogs turning in your head.

"Hyunjin, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Pretending to be my boyfriend." you sit up so he follows.

"Because you asked me to? I wanted to help you." Hyunjin lies through his teeth and you can read it now. It's like everything became clear to you.

"Would you really be happy if I got together with Minho?"

Hyunjin's stomach churns and anything good he felt just moments ago when he was kissing you disappears and is replaced by a feeling of nausea.

He averts his eyes from you, nervously biting on his lip.

"Hyunjin?"

"No. No, I wouldn't be happy." he admits quietly, his eyes trained on his lap, unable to look at you.

"Why?" you ask.

"Why? Why? Is it not obvious, y/n?" he says and your eyes meet.

"I love you, that's why." Hyunjin feels the weight of his hidden feelings finally lifting from his heart.

Your lips tremble as you stare at him in shock.

"Since when?"

"Since forever."

You suddenly get up, the reality of the situation dawning on you.

"You've loved me this whole time? And I never realized? And I asked you to fake date me to make another guy jealous and you- you went with it." your eyes well up with tears. "Oh my god, I am so stupid and insensitive!"

Hyunjin gets up too, quickly wanting to comfort you.

"No, y/n it's okay, I wanted to help you! I mean, if you're happy, I'm happy too even if it's not with me." you can hear the pain in his voice when he says that and your chest hurts.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"It's okay if you don't love me like I love you, I can't force you to feel the same." Hyunjin shakes his head.

"It's not like that... It's just; I need to process all of this." you back away from him as he looks at you, sadness in his eyes.

You can't look at him in that moment.

"Do you want me to leave?" his voice is quiet and small when he asks that.

"Yeah, I need to be alone."

Hyunjin doesn't say anything at first, only grabs his things as you stare at the wall, your brain on overdrive.

"Call me when you're ready to talk." he says and you nod, watching his back as he leaves your room.

As soon as you hear the apartment door close, you break into tears.

How could you've been so blind? Hyunjin was always right next to you, he was your person, your comfort, your best friend.

He did everything to make you happy, even indulging you in dumb requests like this one and now that he told you how he feels, everything started flooding in.

The way he'd hold you, the way he looked at you, the way he blushed when you touched his hand, how he seemed annoyed when you told him about Minho.

You were beating yourself up for being so stupid and hurting him when deep inside you always knew you loved him too.

But now, you were afraid that you'd also hurt Minho if he liked you.

So you decided to test that.

-

The next morning, Hyunjin was already awake when his alarm rang, a sleepless night behind him filled with tears and scenarios of you not being a part of his life anymore.

He screwed up, confessing like that, in the heat of the moment.

He can't forget your face, how shocked and sad you looked and how you didn't even wanna look at his face.

Hyunjin still waits for you at your meeting spot, hoping you'll arrive with a smile and a cup of coffee like you always do.

But as minutes pass, with a heavy heart, Hyunjin realizes you're not coming so he reluctantly makes his way to class alone.

His heart freezes when he walks into the building and sees you talking to Minho.

Unable to look at that, he quickly walks into class, sitting at his usual spot.

This is a disaster, he thinks.

If he just kept his mouth shut, you'd be here sitting next to him now, joking around and laughing like you always do.

If he'd kept it all in, maybe he'd have just a glimpse of how it would feel to be yours.

Maybe you'd have that sleepover you always do, when you fall asleep in his arms and Hyunjin can pretend you're his.

But you never come into class, even after Minho did, sitting up front at his usual spot, smiling at the boy next to him.

Hyunjin frowns and stands up, quickly making his way out before the class started as he searches for you.

He finds you sitting on one of the benches outside, looking exhausted and sad.

He wants to run to you but instead he decides to approach you slowly.

"Y/n?" he leans down to look at you and you scoff.

"Minho has a boyfriend."

"What?" Hyunjin asks.

"Minho. He's gay. Or whatever. He's dating Jisung. And I'm just so stupid." you frown as Hyunjin takes in the information.

You can hear the laughter bubbling up inside him.

"Go ahead, laugh at my embarassment, I know you want to." you look at him and he does just that.

Hyunjin starts laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation and as you see his cute face becoming red from the laughter, you can't stay serious.

Breaking into giggles yourself, the two of you probably end up looking like a pair of maniacs as you keep laughing.

"You were really barking up the wrong tree." he sits next to you and you smack his arm, making him whine.

"Stop it, at least let some time pass before you start making jokes about this." you pout and he chuckles at you, finding you so endearing at that moment.

Without thinking, Hyunjin tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and you feel your face warm up.

"I'm sorry for dumping all my feelings on you. I didn't wanna make anything awkward and that is not the way I wanted to confess. Actually... I wanted to confess to you that day when you told me about Minho." Hyunjin says.

"Oh my god! When you asked me to meet up? I am double stupid." you groan, smacking your forehead with your palm.

"It's fine. We can be friends, I'll just try to-"

"Hyunjin." you stop him.

"Hm?"

"I love you too. And I'm sorry for not realizing that before and hurting you."

"Oh. Oh!" Hyunjin's eyes are wide. "You feel the same?"

You chuckle at his surprised expression, needing him close so you wrap your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him, your face buried in his chest.

Hyunjin feels relief wash over him as he wraps his arms around you, his hand caressing your head.

"Does this mean you want to be mine?" he asks breathlessly.

"Oh, I always was." you look up at him with a smile and he giggles, his heart beating fast.

"I'm gonna kiss you now." he leans in.

"Please do." you chuckle and he cradles your head in his hand as his lips press gently into yours.

This kiss feels even more special, the confession between you melting through your lips as you taste each other.

"Wanna ditch classes and get some coffee?" you ask when you part.

"With you, always."

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun

[woso-dreamzzz]

Daisychains III

Marta Torrejón x Caroline Graham Hansen x Child!Reader

Summary: You miss Caro

It's unusual to see you in kit.

You usually end up in your school uniform or your gardening overalls or the soft linen clothes Caro buys at home in Norway that are perfect for the hot Barcelona weather.

You've never had any big interest in football, at least not enough to wear jerseys outside of watching Marta and Barcelona play.

But this is your special Norway shirt.

It's not even yours, not really.

It was Caro's, straight from her side of Marta's wardrobe.

It hangs over your knees as you sit in the swinging chair with your reading book with all the little flowers in separate pots. You'd been reading to them a lot lately.

"I've got snacks," Marta says, approaching you with a little plate of homegrown celery and carrots.

She slots into the little space next to you, an arm over your shoulder as you lean into her.

"I miss Caro," You say," When is Caro coming home?"

"She'll be home soon," Marta says," She's still playing for Norway right now."

"But I want her home!"

You're whining now. Like wearing a jersey, this is unusual for you. Your bottom lips wobbles dangerously until you're burying your head in Marta's chest and clutching at her shirt.

"I want Caro!"

"Conejita, Caro is-"

"Caro!"

Tears fall from your cheeks as you curl around Marta, your snacks forgotten as she gently rests her hand on the back of your head.

She should have expected this really. You had grown attached to Caro now that she's around more. You crawl into Caro's side of the bed in the morning before school for extra cuddles. You let Caro do up your school shoes and give you the last kiss before heading into the school building.

You adore Caro and Marta should have really known that this separation wouldn't do you much good.

You crawl into Marta's bed that night, fast asleep and holding Caro's pillow.

"I didn't mean to make her sad," Caro says, wincing slightly as she gazes at you through the video call.

"I think she just got used to having you around," Marta replies," It's not your fault. She hasn't dealt with me going away to camp for a while now. I think she's forgotten what it's like."

"I..." Suddenly, Caro feels choked up. She hadn't expected seeing you like this with your sad, little scrunched up sleeping face would affect her like that. "Give her a kiss for me?"

"Of course. I'll tell her you wanted her to have lots from you."

"Thank you."

It's amazing how expressive a child's face is. Caro hadn't ever really thought of that before. Of course, there's Skatt who had always worn her heart on her sleeve and Estrella who always looked like she was halfway between judgement and pure boredom.

Caro has known Skatt for years now but she hadn't even considered the little faces she made. She knew, in theory, that everything Skatt thought was on her face but she'd never paid attention to it.

But now that you're in her life, Caro can't help but notice.

The image of your sad face with your downturned lips and the frown that stayed on your features even as you slept.

It's an image that stays with her through all the training and gym work and even as Caro eats, stubbornly stabbing the food on her plate with a fork.

It's an image that stays with her as she prepares to walk out for the match as well.

Little feet pitter-patter around as Caro weaves through her teammates and their mascots, shuffling through the line to get to her place.

She nearly falls straight over as something unexpected crashes into her legs and Caro whips her head downwards.

To tell off or to yell.

She hasn't quite decided yet.

But her words stick in her throat.

"Caro!" You say, hugging her legs and looking up at her.

"I...What are you doing here?"

You let go of her, taking a step back. "Do you not want me here?"

Caro shakes her head, getting down on her knee to pull you into a proper hug. "Of course I want you here. I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Caro. That's why we came. I'm even wearing your shirt."

Marta stands a little way away, a fond smile on her face as she sees Caro litter kisses over your face.

"You're not going over?" Mapi asks, Skatt hanging off her arm dressed like a happy little ladybug.

"I'm letting them have this moment. I've had Conejita cuddles every day for years. Caro's got a lot of catching up to do."

[entitled-fangirl]

I'll always be thanking you.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: The reader goes through postpartum depression after she gives him yet another girl. Cregan reassures her that he loves his daughters.

Warnings: postpartum depression, recovering from childbirth, sexist culture

Masterlist

A/n: it's a two fic kinda day

...............................................................................

It had happened so suddenly.

Cregan thought all was right in the world. Everything was set in place by the Old Gods as it should be. Everything was perfect.

But he knew that the last two pregnancies had been unkind to her, prompting a horrid depression after them that went on for months. But when it hadn't shown yet for this last one, he thought that perhaps it had stopped completely.

Until now.

He stepped into their chamber with a broad smile, lightly bouncing the two-year-old on his arm. Arya. She giggled with each one, the sound distorted with the force of the bounces. Witnessing the intimidating man turn soft for the little girl was entirely endearing. 

"Your mother is still in bed," he chipped lightly as he observed his wife covered by the furs they shared every night.

"She always in bed," Lyanna, their five year old said as she trailed behind them.

"Not always," Cregan corrected firmly. "She just gave us your new sister. It takes a long time for the body and mind to recover from something that great."

A small shaking of his wife's shoulders from her laying form in the bed caused him to worry slightly. "Lyanna, why don't you take your sister?"

She wanted to complain but knew better than to argue with her father. She took the toddler's hand and they walked out from the room.

Cregan's recovering wife laid in their bed, completely unmoving except for the small shoulder shake he'd seen. It was a quiver and it sent him on edge. She only ever did that when-

"Are you crying?" He whispered as he sat on the bed, her back to him.

Finally she turned. She had been awake the entire time. Her face was red from crying, the paths of her tears evident on her face. Her lips pouted down as she suppressed a sob.

Cregan was quick to comfort her. He practically laid his body over hers, keeping an arm around her to let her weep into his collarbone. And she did so.

He cooed every few moments, his free hand rubbing at her hair. The tears pained him almost as much as watching her endure the harsh labor only a two weeks before.

When the violent part of the crying was over, he pulled her face away to look at her. "Now," he caressed her cheek, "What is all this for?"

She sniffled and hiccuped between words. "It's just… just… Sarra."

His face fell. "Is something wrong with the babe?"

"No. It's just…" she caught her breath. "Another girl."

Cregan's head tilted. "It is," he reckoned. "What is the problem, my love?"

"Can I not give you a boy?" She whispered in fear of the answer.

Realization flooded Cregan. "You're doing nothing wrong," he assured. "I love my girls with all my heart. Did you want a boy this badly?"

"I just want you to be proud of me."

He visibly flinched. The thought of his postpartum wife crying over giving him a healthy baby was too much for him. "I'm proud of you. You've given me three girls now."

"But it's not a boy." Her eyes continually welled up with tears. "I was so sure it was a boy."

"Do you think me that shallow, dear wife?" He asked in a firm tone. "That I'd have you birth children until I got a boy?"

"Two," she corrected. "You need an heir and a spare and I-" her breath caught. "I cannot even give you one. A cursed womb-"

"Don't say that." His voice was a firm growl, his hand grabbing her jaw a bit harder than he meant to. "Do not say that."

A few tears ran down her cheeks.

Cregan forced a sigh and let his anger die down. He sat up a bit, giving her space. "Do you think that all I wanted in this world were two sons? Do you think that is all my heart desires?"

It was clear that she knew deep down how ridiculous she sounded. "Well-"

"-I've said it many times. What does my heart desire? Hmm? What brightens my day more than the sun?"

She let out a breath through her nose.

Cregan continued, tilting his head down to catch her gaze. "My wife and what? What else?"

"Your children," she whispered.

"Hm?" He asked, though he clearly heard it. He just wanted her to say it once again.

"Your children," she said a bit louder. 

He smiled. "Yes, our children." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Whether we had had one or you give me an army, I shall love them all until my remains in the crypt are long gone. Being a boy or girl doesn't change it."

"But… Winterfell-"

"-We'll deal with the succession when it is meant to happen. Until now, you're going to rest, and I'm going to spend time with our children. But I'm not going anywhere until you've done your part."

"The maester said it would take much longer to heal this time," she muttered. To herself or Cregan, she wasn't sure.

"That's alright. We've got all the time we need for now, don't we? No need to rush things."

"But the sooner we try-"

"-No-"

"-And Sarra was such a surprise-"

"-Stop-"

"-The next one could be sooner-"

"-Love," he said with a slightly raised voice. "When you're healed and ready to try once more, I will be eternally grateful. But I can wait a lifetime if I need to. I have all I need in the world already."

There was a small knock on the door. "Papa?"

No doubt it was Arya.

Cregan grinned and kissed his wife's temple before going to the door. In the doorway stood little Arya, her hair a sandy brown like Cregan's, her bright eyes like her mother. "What do you need?" It was a firm ask from him, but not one without care.

Arya had yet to say complete sentences yet, only a few  words here and there and the lord would be forced to try to make sense of them. She babbled about something and Cregan's brows raised, completely at a loss. "Um… I-"

"Here, darling," Y/n's soft voice came from behind Cregan as she walked to them. In her hand was Arya's doll that she had no doubt dropped earlier. It was a carefully sewn piece from Cregan's bastard sister, Sara, of whom the new babe was named after. "I see Aunt Sara got a new dress for her, hm?"

Arya grabbed the doll quickly from her mother and hugged the doll tightly. 

Cregan wrapped an arm around his wife. He wanted to scold her for getting up but he would refrain from that for now. "Aye. A very pretty dress," he tried to compliment. Cregan didn't know the first thing about sewing or doll making, or even the fashion of ladies, but he tried anyway to please his girls.

Arya's brows came together in clear confusion, prompting his wife to lightly elbow him. He gave a grunt and gawked.

"It's a battle dress," she spoke through her teeth. "It's a doll dressed like a female warrior."

He decided to go along with it, though he clearly didn't understand it. "I mean, what a very fierce dress. Seems very… protective."

Arya accepted that answer and held the doll out for Cregan to truly see. His gruff hand reached out and took the doll, bringing it up to his level to admire. His sister had done well with it, even he could see that. "So very pr-" he caught himself. "So very strong."

Arya jumped up to grab the doll and Cregan handed it back to her. The two parents watched her take off again like nothing had happened. 

"How'd you know what she wanted?" He asked his wife.

She rubbed at her tired eyes, ignoring the slight ache in her thighs. "She said so. Didn't you hear it?"

"We have three lovely girls and I still have so much to learn," he remarked, amusement oozing from his voice.

She gave a tired grin at that. She began leaning more into him than before and he held her hips taught. "Now," he remarked, "to bed with you."

"Sarra might need me-"

"-I'll check on Sarra."

"And Lyanna was hoping to play outside-"

"-I'll see to it."

"And Arya-"

"-What of Arya?" He asked quietly.

She paused. "I- She always needs something."

He let out a deep chuckle, guiding her back to the bed. "I'll see to it all. I promise you. I can be a father, whether you believe that or not."

She hummed. "I do."

"Alright. Then let me." He kissed her cheek, his scruff rubbing at her skin. "We'll get you in bed."

"Can the girls visit later?" 

He couldn't deny those bright eyes of hers. The same ones each of his girls inherited. It was his one weakness. "After you sup, then yes. But that is in a few hours."

Relief and excitement pulled at her shoulders, a comforting feeling washing over her. "Thank you."

As he tucked her back into the bed, he smiled at her. "Don't thank me. You've given me everything. I'll always be thanking you."

................................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar @kidd3ath @yujyujj @misswynters @cosmosnkaz @sithapprentice @kaniromi @lovemesomevesey @its-jackie-bb @thorins-queen-of-erebor @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn @callsignwidow @a1lexh-blog @alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867 @helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[cherrybr4t]

ex for a reason — choi seungcheol (+18)

cheol feels a wave of possessiveness when he sees your ex-boyfriend!

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), sl*t, degradation (f rec), daddy cheol!, spanking, tit playing, jealousy! est. relationship, a little possessiveness haha, creampie, that’s all i think! ok enjoy <3

if seungcheol could pinpoint exactly why he, too, is a creature bound to the notion of possessiveness — he would. except, at this point of time, all he feels is rage.

not at you — no, no not at all. how could he ever be angry at his princess? the poor guy falling victim to his fiery glares would be your ex-boyfriend. said ex-boyfriend — mingyu, was definitely too buzzed to notice the hard daggers thrown at him.

you however, are quick to notice the switch in tension after mingyu came over to give you a hug, gushing over how it’s been forever since you’ve last met. you return the kind smile. after all you and him did end on cordial terms.

that ticks something off in seungcheol’s head. the way mingyu’s arms seemed too familiar — too comfortable snaking around you. all while he was standing there right beside you.

he shakes hands with mingyu, squeezing a little too tight until he notices the wince on that pretty boy’s face. head’s too busy thinking about the fact that he’s held you close under his covers before.

“baby, you all right?” you squeeze the hands that are tightly wrapped around your waist.

seungcheol hums, “yeah baby, just a little tired is all,” he reassures, leaving a peck on your temple. you narrow your eyes, knowing he’s withholding words from you.

“y’sure? we can leave early — anytime you wanna,” raising your brows at him, offering an exit.

“no baby, i’m fine. it’s your friend’s birthday after all, let’s stay a while more — enjoy this bottle of whiskey she has,” he lifts up the $3000 bottle off the table top, waving it slightly.

seungcheol self soothes. he thinks he’s got it all under control, it’s not like you’ve got residual feelings attached to mingyu — its been almost two years. but with the way mingyu keeps gazing over towards you, with that fucking smirk, seungcheol thinks he’s about to lose it.

the party is in full swing — party hits back to back, loud chatting over the speakers, with people dancing around. he sees mingyu start to make his way across the room towards the both of you.

without much thought, seungcheol pulls you in closer — if even possible, grabs your hand and leads you to a room. a guest room which you recognise due to the nights spent in your friend’s house.

“cheol, baby? what’s wrong?” you catch your breath, looking up at him and furrowing your eyebrows.

cheol tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. he looks at you tenderly, before deciding to come clean. it’s not the first time he’s informed you of how jealousy tends to cloud his mind.

“i…just couldn’t stand your ex being there. standing there looking at you, as if i’m not there right beside you — was fucking pissing me off,” he sighs out, leaning his forehead against yours, body to body.

you let out a small chuckle, “baby, you know how he is… plus the only man i’ve ever looked at the whole night — is standing right in front of me right now. he’s all i wanna look at.” you nibble on your bottom lip, hoping seungcheol catches every nuance of sincerity you’re projecting.

“yeah? i know baby.. sorry it’s just, i can’t help it. want him to back off. want him to know who you belong to now,” his voice barely above a whisper.

you gaze up, giving his plump lips a kiss. a simple peck which turned into sucking, biting and licking — which was the case all of the time because who could resist and pull away from those lips?

he kisses you back with even more urgency, even more passion and love — and you feel him take charge, grabbing your nape to pull you in closer. he wants to taste all of you, every inch and spot — he wants it all. wants the reassurance that you’re now his and only his to hold, to touch, to pleasure.

“you’re all mine aren’t you,” he growls out mid kiss, grabbing you by your chin, staring so deep into your eyes you feel the need seeping into you from his gaze alone.

“always have been, cheol.”

his heart settles at your voice. knows you’re his. but hearing it makes him feel a whole ‘nother level of complete. loves when you play to his possessive selfish desires.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle above him.

he pushes and combs your hair to the back, hands rubbing up and down your body, hands claiming what’s his. he takes in your silhouette in front of him — sitting so prettily, just waiting to be devoured by him.

“you’re too beautiful baby, hate the thought of someone else getting to see you the way i do,” he removes the strap of your top, teasing slowly as he starts to pull your top above your stomach.

you raise your hands, letting him remove your top. he hisses, sucks in a sharp breath, noticing you went braless for the night.

“braless tonight baby? thank god it was warm out there. imagine if these,” he tugs on both nipples harshly, “were to stand if it were cold,” he releases them, rubbing over your hard nipples softly in circles with his thumb. “then that ex boyfriend of yours would’ve been able to see what’s mine, wouldn’t he.”

you whimper at the hard and soft sensation on your nipples, knowing he’s going gentle on you now.

“you’d like that baby? want him to see you like that?” he slaps across your tits, tainting the soft flesh with his print. you let out a whine, “n-no…don’t want him to,”

“yeah? it’s for my eyes only, right baby?” his hand inches towards your core, completely exposed under your mini skirt by the way you’re sitting.

he rubs his fingers over your panties, smirking at the wet patch he feels on your center.

“so wet baby, thinking about me or thinking about him?”

you frown and gasped at him indignantly, “you. baby — i don’t understa—” he slaps your cunt, soothing it immediately afterwards with a few gentle rubs across your core.

he knows it’s him, knows only he can get you so dippy — likes a confirmation of it anyways.

he pulls you in for another heated kiss while his fingers continue to stay busy toying with your clothed cunt. your warm cunt that he wants to drown in all the time.

“remove your panties and go on all fours for me baby,” he grabs your hips, lifting you off him. you silently think of ways to apologise to your friend before getting comfortable on the bed, just clad in your mini skirt.

seungcheol groans at the supple flesh of your ass spilling out of the short fabric. pulling you closer to the edge, he grips onto the flesh. fingers tense, possessiveness dripping down his fingertips. needs to feel you on every active nerve to remind himself that you’re solely his.

he dives in to give one long lick up your soaked cunt. you moan out his name, and he groans out how fucking wet you are.

“fuck baby, i think if i were to fuck you right now my cock would slide right in,” he settles for his fingers for now, feeling the way your walls immediately tighten around his finger.

“cheol…daddy, want more..” you push your hips back, wiggling your ass in his face. he slaps a harsh one down your cheeks, and you wince, whimpering slightly.

“greedy slut. think you deserve more? letting your ex boyfriend hug you like that,” he says that but inserts two fingers in this time. bottoming out to his knuckles, curling his fingers.

“d-don’t be angry daddy, you know i only want daddy… want you only…” you beg, breath hitching every time he hits the spot all the way inside.

“show me baby, tell daddy how much you want him.” he sees you look over your shoulders, eyes wide and sweat starting to form on the edge of your hairline.

the cocky look on his face has you tightening around his fingers. him fully clothed, fingers deep inside you while you lay so pliantly for him. you would do anything for this man. and so would he.

“please daddy, want you to make me cum. need your cock.” gripping onto the bedsheets tighter as you feel him sneakily insert a third finger.

“yeah baby? doesn’t seem like you want it that bad. i’ve heard you beg better.” he coos. he knows you could go louder — loud enough for him and the other guests to possibly hear. needs to set him straight.

you whine. god. frustration starting to boil and mix with the immense pleasure in your core. you know how cheol is. how he can get mean in bed.

“want—want you to fuck me daddy. please. need you so bad. please please cheol,” your voice breaks. you feel his other hand reach from behind to tug on your nipples, before reaching down to leave teasing touches to your puffy clit begging for attention.

he’s a master a multi-tasking. thinks when it comes to you, he’ll be a master at anything. anything that makes his princess feel good.

“fuck baby, making such a fucking mess. so desperate to cum aren’t you.” at this point, he’s more desperate than you to make you cum. he feels his cock growing so hard it hurts, and if he doesn’t cum inside you soon he’s going to lose it.

“fuck baby. show me why you’re my good girl yeah? cum on my fingers and i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock.” he rams his fingers so hard inside you, other hand rubbing tight and fast circles around your clit.

“cum for me baby, moan out my name nice and loud while you do yeah? let everyone know who’s making you feel good right now,”

with his urging, you snap and unravel, gushing out while cumming around his fingers. you scream out his name as you cum, hands turning white by how hard you’re holding on to the sheets.

“fuck daddy, so good… so good…” you puff out as you come down from your high. no time to register as you hear his pants drop to the floor.

“turn around baby, come sit on me.” you push yourself up, only to see him already leaning against the headboard, hand stroking his hard on. grunting. hints of pre-cum glistening in the dim room light. his gaze hard on you as he strokes himself.

you bite your lip, crawling slowly towards him before settling in front of him. he tilts his head, letting his pre-cum coat his length.

“think he heard you cumming all over my fingers?” cheol prompts. you flush, nod a little, think anyone within a few metre radius distance from the room would’ve heard you begging cheol to make you cum.

“wait til he hears how good my cock makes you feel baby,” he guides you towards him, letting you hover over his cock for a moment.

“you okay baby?” he whispers and gets a confirmation from you. “just want your cock in me,”

the tip presses against your entrance, and like what he predicted earlier, you sunk down his cock with ease, soaking wet cunt welcoming him eagerly. he groans, voice croaky. head so clouded by how snug and warm you feel.

“you feel so good princess, you feel fucking perfect around me,” he husks. his eyes unable to tear away from you — the way your mouth opens, gasps leaving you as you take him in all the way. the way your brows furrow with sweat down the middle. the blush spread on your cheeks and the moan you let out as you feel him completely.

he holds on to your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. switching between bouncing you and letting you grind on him.

“so fucking pretty, you always take me so well,” his brows stay furrowed, unable to fully process how fucking good you feel around him. feels like he could cum any moment.

“cheol.. daddy..so good daddy,” you moan out, you see and feel nothing but him and him only at this moment. and you want him to know how good he makes you feel.

“yeah baby? daddy’s cock making you feel good?” he raises his eyebrows, head hitting the back of the bed so hard yet he can’t feel the impact of it. so lost in the moment — wants you to cum around him, wants to cum inside of you.

“so so so good daddy,” you cry out, hands playing with your tits, giving him a little show as he continues to work your hips on him. his strong hands doing most of the work for you, while you focus on the feeling of his tip hitting and grinding against your gummy spot. the way he keeps creating waves of butterflies in your lower stomach.

“that’s it, let him hear how good i make you feel baby,”

“show him how you’re my needy little slut, bet he’s never gotten you like this,”

“no one can make you feel like i do right baby, no one compares to daddy right?” cheol utters out, cursing out every time he feels your walls tighten around him.

“n-no one daddy. only you can make me feel this way,” you cry out. “only you daddy, only you,” and it’s true. cheol works around your body like no other, like magic. knowing every spot of your body and how to take you there — faster than anyone ever.

his fingers make their way to your clit once again, and you jerk forward the moment he starts to rub messily on your slippery bud again.

“that’s it baby. only daddy can ever make you feel this way,” he snaps his hips up faster, feeling his incoming orgasm the more he hears you cry out.

“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well. you belong on daddy’s cock don’t you,” he moans out. holding back on his thrusts, focusing on your clit to make you cum again. knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer if he continues fucking up into you.

“cum for daddy again? wanna see you cum around daddy’s cock. i know you can baby,” his pace quickens and he groans — knowing how it goes, knowing when you’re about to cum. needs to hear you fall apart on his cock.

“almost there baby, cum for daddy — that’s it that’s it… feels so fucking good doesn’t it baby, look at you.” his words alone bring you to a new high, cumming so hard around his cock, screaming his name so loud you think the upstairs neighbour knows who cheol is.

“fuck baby. gonna cum. gonna cum so fucking hard inside of you baby.” his hands find their way back on your hips, gripping onto dear life as he snaps his hips up into your dripping cunt.

“ah fuck, fuck i’m cumming baby, daddy’s gonna cum inside of you,” and you clench around him, watching the final string break as he whines out, and you feel his hot cum shooting inside you, painting your walls.

thick hot cum continues to spurt inside of you as he slowly fucks it in you, pushing his cum deep inside every crevice of your cunt. his moans come in sections, breaking more and more.

he lifts you up slowly before you decide to lay beside him, feeling beat. he extends an arm for you to lay on as a pillow and you smile, facing him as you use his arm comfortably.

“you were so good princess, did so well for me. as always,” cheol caresses your cheek softly.

“sorry baby, i shouldn’t have let mingyu hug me all over like that… i would’ve been upset if i were you too,” quietly, you place a kiss on his jawline. hoping he isn’t too affected by mingyu anymore.

“no baby, i’m not mad at you. just hate it when guys look at you that way…especially if it’s an ex-boyfriend.” he rubs his nose with yours.

“i know baby…let’s get out of here? i’ll find another day to bring minji out for a birthday dinner..”

giggling, cheol agrees — but not til you guys catch your breaths for a few minutes.

perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh

a/n: hi luvs! sorry, i’ve been a lil caught up w life and etc so :(( missed being here n writing so here i am! managed to find some time to write a lil smth <3 hope u guys liked it, if u did — like, rb or comment ⭐️ love you, muahh 🍒

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's board, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he though he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you so, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask,"ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[leona-hawthorne]

I keep imagining it being the night before the Yule Ball, and bc Matty never wears his tie for the uniform anyway, you have to help him out and do it for him bc he wants to look perfect for you and is struggling. Just me? Okay 😅

oh my god yes this is so cute!!!

it’s the night of the yule ball and the common room is practically deserted, everyone already in the ballroom. you’re perched on the arm of one of the big leather chairs, waiting for mattheo to finish getting ready because of course he’s waited until the last possible second to figure out his suit. his black dress shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, and he’s muttering curses at his tie because it’s refusing to cooperate.

“this stupid thing,” he growls, yanking at the silk like it personally offended him. his brows are furrowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration, and honestly? it's kind of adorable seeing him this flustered. you can tell he’s about three seconds away from throwing the tie into the fire.

"need some help?" you offer, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice (and failing spectacularly).

he looks up, a little startled, like he forgot you were there, and then that familiar cocky smirk makes an appearance. "help? me? nah, i've got it handled," he says, even as he fumbles with the fabric again, somehow managing to make it look worse.

"sure you do. come here."

"i don't—”

"mattheo."

he sighs, dropping his hands and tilting his head back dramatically like he's being sentenced to death.

you can’t help but laugh a little as you slide off the chair and cross the room to him. “here,” you say, taking the ends of the tie out of his hands before he can actually commit arson.

he’s suddenly so quiet, like he doesn’t trust his voice not to give him away, because holy shit you’re so close. close enough that he can see the little flecks of color in your eyes and catch the faintest whiff of your perfume.

“would’ve done this ages ago if i’d known you didn’t know how to tie your own tie,” you tease, looping the fabric around your fingers to start fixing the knot.

he huffs, but it’s not annoyed—it’s shy. “didn’t wanna bother you.”

and you just give him this look, one brow raised, because bother you? the boy who literally leaned his entire weight on you during potions last week and whispered nonsense in your ear for thirty minutes straight thought this was bothering you?

“you could’ve just asked for help.”

"yeah, but where's the fun in that?" he quips, but his voice is quieter now, his gaze fixed on your face.

and then, because it's mattheo, he can't help himself. "you're enjoying this, aren't you? playing dress-up with me?"

you smirk, tightening the knot just enough to make him swallow hard.

"maybe a little. you clean up nice, riddle."

"you think so?"

you step back, admiring your work, and something about the way he's looking at you—like you're the only thing in the world that matters—makes your chest tighten. "i know so."

"i just... i just want to look good for you."

and just like that, any teasing remark you were about to make dies in your throat. because mattheo riddle—the arrogant, insufferable, too-cool-for-everything mattheo riddle—is standing here, nervous and vulnerable and entirely too sweet, all because he wants to impress you.

"you will," you say softly, your fingers curling around his. "you already do."

and the smile he gives you? yeah, that's the kind of thing that could make you fall in love all over again.

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

[randomsuggesteduseername]

waking up with nerdy college steve after a hookup

—MASTERLIST

The sheets feel soft on your skin, uncharacteristically so for the uni beds, and as you open your eyes it’s confirmed that you didn’t make it home last night. Lazily, you let your head turn to the side, the light from the wall-length window almost blinding you as you try to accustom from the previous darkness of your eyelids. He’s sleeping, you notice as much from the rhythmic rise and fall of his back, your eyes exploring shamelessly the expanse of his skin littered in moles and twin pairs of four indents on his shoulder blades. They’re still somewhat red, a gentle reminder of the previous night.

Rolling on your stomach, you keep yourself up on your elbows as you tilt your head curiously, who knew Steve could look this peaceful? You’ve only known him as that boy from sociology you happened to lock eyes with a few times. The first thing you had noticed about him were his perfect eyes and the little stray chestnut strand which was curling down from his forehead all the way to his pretty brown eyes. So wide, framed by black lashes with just the right upwards curl to give him that Bambi look which had you thinking about him for an embarrassing amount of time.

You’d seen the way girls were fawning over him, how he’d politely reject them and try to keep his distance. It made you think he was taken, but how could he be not, those eyes were like gentle traps. Traps in which you fell head first without warning. You’re not in love with him, no…you don’t think you are, but you’re not indifferent to him either which is somewhat vexing.

He’s waking up, a deeper breath and a grumpy sigh fall from his lips first, the scruffing of his pillow audible as he nuzzles deeper into the comfort of the silk. He has his own apartment, daddy’s money is your best guess, which is surprising since he doesn’t have anything in common with the rich douchebags which always make their presence known by flashing their wealth left and right. He’s so different in his own way, which is why you’re surprised that you managed to make it into his bed last night, you suppose Tina’s vodka spiked punch might’ve loosened him up.

You watch him as he sits up, a cute frown resting between his brows as he supports himself with a hand against the mattress before he looks around, spotting you beside him, still wearing his polo from the previous night. It was the closest garment you could grab from the floor.

“Morning…” His voice is deeper than usual, sleep still lingering on him and his features. “You’re still here,” he says as if it’s a miracle, his pink-ish lips pulling up at the corners in a pretty smile.

“Would you rather that I leave?” Questioning teasingly, you hum at the soft pout falling onto his lips, making you shake your head and sigh, reaching a hand to ruffle his already messy hair. “Relax, bambi, I’m just joking.” Sitting yourself up, you climb onto his lap as he leans back against the headboard and gazes up at you, the slightly sleepy look in his eyes making your stomach squeeze.

Slinging your arms around his neck, you let out a hum and push one hand up into his hair, silky strands slipping smoothly through your fingers as you watch his eyes flutter shut and lean back into your touch. You suddenly want him again. Bad.

You thought that last night was enough for you to get him out of your system, but once again, looking at those soft lips, you wish they’d be doing something else right now. Giving his lips a chaste peck, you feel his hands pressing onto your waist with a featherlight pressure, grounding himself in the moment as if just the softest touch of your lips has him floating. Pulling back slightly to watch him, you notice the leftover lipstick marks smeared onto his skin, the reddish tint at the corner of his lips, over his jaw and stretching down to his neck and collarbone.

Tutting gently, you smile to yourself, letting your fingers push his hair back from his forehead before you lean in and stop just a hair’s width away from his lips, your eyes falling shut as you hum and squeeze the back of his neck. “You know, Bambi…” Shifting on his thighs, “there’s something about you driving me crazy.” you tilt your head and before he can think of a response, your lips are on his, lazily kissing him as you shift closer and nip on his lip. His breath fans over your cheek, hands tightening slightly onto your waist as he gets worked up, your kiss turning more heated and rushed. You pant, pulling back, surprised as he leans in and continues mouthing sloppily at your neck.

Offering him the whole expanse of your neck to play with, your eyes stay shut as you feel the accidental scrape of his front teeth against the side of your neck, making you moan and grip at his shoulder, your other hand tugging onto his hair as a reassuring gesture that he's doing well.. His skin is warm against yours despite the shudder which runs through him at the sharp feeling of you tugging onto his hair. He loves it, the type of pain which fuels his fire.

He doesn’t dare to go further, settling for some open mouthed kisses onto your neck, his hands having found the courage to slip under your shirt, which is actually his, but he knows that if you want he’ll let you leave with it. Warm palms spread over your back, you grip his throat and push him back from your skin, his expression mimicking one of a puppy whose toy has been snatched away.

Your lips settling onto his jaw, you suck a mark on the underside of it which makes him jolt, struggling to keep still as you turn his skin a rose colour, finishing it up with a nip. Chuckling at his soft jolt, you murmur a soft praise and pull back to admire his blissed out face, lips parted slightly, eyes shut and his cheeks a matching shade with the mark on his neck.

Sighing deeply, you roll off and lay back, legs parting suggestively as you motion for him to come lay with you with a subtle tilt of your head, watching as his grin widens while he moves to lay between your legs, keeping himself up with the help of his elbows sinking into the mattress as you notice the soft squint in his brows. Blindly reaching a hand to the nightstand, you grab his frames and gently prop them up onto his nose, smiling softly. “There,” Swiping his hair away once again, you smile as he thanks you, his thin frames making his eyes seem just a bit bigger, the nickname ‘Bambi’ even more fitting for him now.

Smiling as his cheeks seem to tint a bit at your gesture, you gently trace his glasses, tucking some longer hairs behind his ear before you settle your hand at the back of his neck, squeezing. “Now,” Trailing off, tone warm, yet holding a certain amount of teasing. “it’s 9, we still have time. So we can have sex, go out for some breakfast and then maybe go to sociology?” Proposing the schedule, his lips part, seemingly focusing on just the first part of the sentence to which he agrees with a dumb nod.

He’s gone to heaven, he thinks. Nothing can convince him otherwise as you kiss him again, ridding him of any coherent thought.

[odoraful]

𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑳𝒀 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵

life has been a little less empty for zayne with you in it

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; established relationship; a little bittersweet, but still with fluff 🫂; appearance of zayne's parents; bits of zayne's childhood; 1.5k words

⟡ a/n: title is from a quote by the wonderful brennan lee mulligan from the D20 season a court of fey and flowers <3 i was feeling very soft about zayne’s life and this was written as a result :’) i hope this is an enjoyable read !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Emptiness was something Zayne had grown accustomed to. It was in the streets that he walked on at night following a late surgery shift. It was in the study rooms he frequented as a university student–often the last person to leave once all his peers had gone. It was even in the classrooms of his childhood–remaining there to read and draw whilst everyone else played outside during breaks. Emptiness gave him periods of focus, which was important considering the career path he eventually pursued. Though, he had not always welcomed emptiness as a companion in his life.

The first time that Zayne was left home alone was when his parents went on an emergency trip out of town for work. Being only a child, he wringed his small hands as his parents hurried to pack equipment he did not yet understand. Before they left, they repeated instructions to the young boy about what he should do for the night. Warm up dinner, finish his homework, brush his teeth, go to bed early. They did not repeat these because they believed Zayne would be disobedient, but because they knew how frightening aloneness could be for a child. Having set guidelines for what to do would hopefully help him to feel capable of being by himself.  

“Remember, we’re only a phone call away, sweetie,” his mother reassured, smoothing his hair back with her fingers.

His father lowered himself on one knee to kiss his son on the forehead, tousling his hair and the careful combing his wife had just done.

“We’ll be back by tomorrow,” his father also reassured.

As the door clicked shut, Zayne watched from the window, pushing the curtain aside. After seeing and hearing the whirring engine pull away, he let the curtain fall. He stood at the entrance for a moment.

All became still, and he was greeted by emptiness for the first time.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He was shocked to feel his heartbeat drumming in his chest and hear every small breath he took. His own internal systems were exposed in silence.

He shuffled further into the house, the once familiar space now feeling too big and labyrinthian. Even his thoughts seemed to echo off the walls as he recalled what his parents had told him to do. Yes, he had tasks he needed to complete. Going through his to-do list would surely rid of the uneasiness bubbling inside him.

Zayne checked things off one-by-one. He tried to focus intensely on what needed to be done to forget about the fact that he was alone.

At last, Zayne retreated to his bedroom. His penultimate task was reading one chapter from the library book he borrowed. However, the words were distant to him as the crawling feeling of isolation left goosebumps on his skin.

Patches of unlit space in his room turned into sinister voids waiting to suck him in. The rustle of wind against windows became Wanderers raking their claws against glass.

He closed his book and snuggled deeper and deeper into the blankets, tucking his head inside and squeezing his eyes shut. He prayed he would have no nightmares tonight. If he did have one, he would wake up to nothing but a hollow room and his heart rattling in his ribcage. Torn between needing rest and not wanting bad dreams, exhaustion eventually took hold.

Zayne awoke not to terrors of the emptiness, but to the comforting touch of his mother. Through his own bleary vision, he saw his mother’s tired but gentle eyes. He sat up groggily. 

“You were so very brave, my dear,” his mother praised.  

“W-where’s Dad?” Zayne asked, sleep lifting with each blink of his eyes.

“He’s making breakfast for us.”

Something flickered in his mum’s gaze after her reply. She opened her mouth, hesitating to speak again.

“Zayne.” She took his hands in hers, brushing a finger over his knuckles. “Me and your father… we need to help as many people as we can, so that means this might happen a lot more as you get older.”

She examined her son’s expression. Zayne nodded.

“We love you very much, and we want you to do exactly as you did last night if this happens again, okay?”

Zayne nodded again, understanding then that he and the emptiness would have to get along from now on.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

At the end of another shift at Akso Hospital, Zayne drove out of the parking lot into the deserted streets of Linkon past midnight. Classical music quietly played in the background as he headed home, unlit buildings passing by in the rear-view mirror.

At the red light, he was the only one waiting. Perhaps this hour of the night meant that phantom cars would be most active, bustling about to do their ghostly activities. That sounded like something you would say to comfort him. Zayne could hear your voice in his head, could see you wiggling your fingers in a poor attempt at mimicking spookiness. The corner of his mouth twitched at his own imagination.

But, you weren’t in the passenger seat beside him this time. He stared out the front windshield, emptiness before him.

Parking the car outside his home, he approached the front door. Hovering his fingerprint over the handle, the sensor gave a small buzz of confirmation before unlocking.

Zayne listed off what he needed to do in his head as he turned the handle and entered. Since he already showered at the hospital, he just needed to change into his sleep clothes, have something to eat, and complete his observations of the day in his journal. Tomorrow (or technically today, though the late hour made it difficult to believe this was a new day) marked the beginning of the weekend when he could spend time with you. If he completed his to-do list diligently, then he could rest quickly and see you sooner.

He slipped his shoes off and undid the laces before putting them beside his other pairs. Zayne expected he would be greeted by an empty, unlit interior. The emptiness was no longer was an unwelcome, unsettling sight like he thought it to be as a child. There was a calmness to it that he had grown to appreciate. But, if he dug deep enough inside himself, there was still a feeling of loneliness he could not quite shake.

That was why he frowned when he saw the lights had been turned on in the living room. He definitely recalled turning them off before he left.

Zayne walked further inside, keeping his guard somewhat up for the possibility of an unwanted intruder.

Rather than a burglar, he was surprised, and much more relieved, to see you instead. Curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your body.

He almost didn’t want to interrupt you. You were so cozy and peaceful, bathed in the warm glow of the lights above. At the sound of Zayne’s footsteps, your tired eyes opened, and your head raised towards the noise.

“Zaynie,” you drawled.

Your voice was crackly with sleep, but your smile was as adoring as ever. Combined with the nickname you used for him, affection tugged at his heart.

He hung his bag up and loosened his tie, joining you on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, brushing loose strands of hair away from your face. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Mmm…” you leaned into his touch. “I thought I’d get a head start and see you earlier.”

 “Earlier being at two o’clock in the morning. You didn’t have to come all this way and wait for me.”

Hearing his point, your lips turned down into a pout.

“Firstly, all this way was only about a 20-minute drive from my place to yours,” you clarified, “and secondly, I wanted to wait for you.”

He breathed a laugh, something between incredulity and fondness. It wasn’t like you didn’t have work today either. Even after your own gruelling shift today fighting Wanderers after a flare-up in a no-hunt zone, you still had the energy to come see him after he finished. Zayne was about to give you a half-serious scolding about staying up late when you leaned closer to him. The words stopped short in his throat as your lips met his cheek.

His face, cold from just being in the night air, blossomed with warmth. Likely due to your tiredness, your reaction time was slower than usual as your kiss lingered for a second or two longer.

“Welcome home, Zayne,” you whispered by his ear as you pulled away.

Home.

His home.

A place that was no longer empty now that you were here. A once solitary existence now filled with your presence.

He wished that he could somehow speak to his younger self. He would say that he would one day be reunited with someone who would wait for him even in the dead of night. That person, with all their endearing stubbornness, would be the one to protect against Wanderers that might be stalking in the emptiness (for they were a renowned Hunter after all), and leave the lights on to dispel any deathly voids.

His mouth parted, breathing becoming unsteady as he whispered back,

“It’s good to be home, my love.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[deadhands69]

Ramen & Rain

Katsuki Bakugo x gn Reader

Ramen Date

just a weird fluff Bakugo fic mostly written at 3am. not quite the direction it was intended to go but it still ends ish as planned. mentions of angst, turns into fluff.

“Sorry for your breakup,” you say to the messy haired blonde seated next to you at the hero rankings after-party, “are you doing okay?”

“Huh?” he grumbled before remembering the bullshit his PR team spun earlier that week. 

“Oh, that.” He sits uncomfortably, staring down the tablecloth at the tiny high top the two of you were perched at. “Um, that was fake.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, my PR team thinks it’ll humanize me to date likable people so they have me take models and whatever on dates.” He pauses, considering if he’d like to tell you the next part, “and a few times they also did this when I was photographed with one night stands. I guess that’s not so likable either or something,” he mumbles down at his lap.  

Your thoughts flash back to every headline you’d read about pro-hero Dynamite’s intriguing love life. Much to his team’s credit, you did fall for it.

“So, you haven’t actually dated any of those girls in the pictures?” 

“Nope,” his finishes his drink, hoping the glass blocked at least some of his blushing face.

“Have you dated anyone?”

“Have you?” he retorts, barely able to make eye contact.

Please say no, he hopes. 

He tried to ask you out once, in your second year of high school together. But he was going through some things. And you are you. He couldn’t imagine you being interested in anything but perfect when it’s what you deserve. One day, he figured, he could give you that. So he waited.

And of course you had no idea he liked you. Not when his way of showing it was hitting you harder while sparing, having higher expectations of you than everyone else, and exploding at you every time you so much as glanced at him (because he thought you caught him staring.)

“Well, there was Shouto in high school,” you begin.

Of course Bakugo knows about this, he hated it. 

You and Shouto had been best friends since halfway through your first year. So, it didn't surprise too many people in your third year when he asked you to go out with him. Of course you had a massive crush on him for years at that point. He's beautiful, who in your class hadn't been into him?

And it was… Cute. 

While it lasted. 

You held hands. He walked you to class. The two of you always had meals together, but it felt different once you were officially together. You never kissed or anything but that's okay, it was new. 

Exactly nine days and four hours is when it all came crashing down. 

Feeling worked after training, you went to bed early. You'd meet up with your boyfriend in the morning. No big deal. 

Little did you know, your puppy love relationship was falling apart before your head even hit the pillow. 

“Hey, Icy Hot! What are you doing checking out Ponytail when you're already dating the hottest person in our class?” Bakugo berated Todoroki. 

Confused, he responded as bluntly as he ever did, “but y/n isn't the hottest one in our class. Momo is.”

Katsuki’s red eyes pierced through him, clearly he was missing something. 

“Wait, are you not dating y/n??”

“No, I am.”

“...then what the fuck.”

After much back and forth, it came out that Iida told Todoroki everyone should aspire to date their best friend. He took that to heart and asked you out without considering if he like liked you. 

He didn't. 

And he told you that the next morning.

It’s not Shouto’s fault his comprehension of human emotion is so limited. This didn’t make being broken up with by him any easier though. Everything was matter of fact, no sugar coating. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” you mumbled to your feet, trying to think of any excuse to leave and save yourself the embarrassment of bursting into tears in front of your classmates. His mismatched eyes stared at you, still confused about the whole situation. 

“I have to go finish some homework now, see ya later.” Turning away, you hope you played it off well enough. No one seemed to notice as you walked heavily through the common space with a face made of stone until you reached the elevator. 

Bakugo did though, and he was pissed at Todoroki for fumbling so hard that you got hurt. Their already unstable friendship took a massive hit after that. Eventually, after a lot of adjusting, Katsuki reasoned he could be okay with you dating someone else if it meant you were happy (and they were perfect and checked every single box he decided someone would need to in order to be worthy of you.) This wasn’t it though.

“I don't mean high school. That one didn't count, ” he says, remembering how helpless he felt watching you being heartbroken when you never did anything to deserve it. 

“Okay, well there was…”

The girl you were with for a whole month before discovering she was a villain, just using you because she thought she could get top secret information. She didn’t.

Then there was the guy you met at a coffee shop who stuck around for a while. He thought you were attractive but didn’t want more than sex and wasn’t sure how to bring that up. You being a hero was terrifying to him and he thought you’d stop sleeping with him when you realized that’s all he was there for. You did. 

And Shinsou, who had the most amicable breakup with. He’s nocturnal and you’re well, not quite. After not seeing each other for three weeks, you decided your schedules just weren’t compatible and called it. No media outlets picked up on it since there was nothing to pick up on. 

Bakugo shifts uncomfortably in front of you. Brows furrowed and face unreadable to most. A twinge of jealousy overtakes him. Sure, the two of you haven’t talked much since graduation, but he still has feelings for you. And hearing about all the losers who had a chance when he never did didn’t sit right with him.

On top of that, admittedly, he also feels guilty. Maybe if he'd asked you out all those years ago he could have saved you from this pain. His assumption you’d settle for nothing but perfect had been shattered, leaving him to accept that he shouldn’t have left you craving closeness from anyone but him. He should have been there. 

He’s here now though. At this point in life, he knows he isn’t perfect but he could at least do better than everyone else you mentioned. If you let him.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks abruptly.

“What?”

“Wanna go somewhere else? The food sucks here, there’s a good ramen shop that’s open late down the street.” 

“You asking me on a date, Dynamite?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he replies dead serious, “I am.���

 Suddenly you’re the one feeling flustered. A date with Katsuki Bakugo? 

After a quick stop at coat check, the two of you are out the door. Running down the marble stairs to the rough sidewalk, his hand lightly around your wrist to guide you. A rain storm earlier left the streets glimmering, neon reflections from the surrounding shops. A few people trickle in and out of businesses in the typically bustling area, but tonight it feels like a ghost town. 

Then you’re there.

He pulls you through an unassuming door. With a quick wave to the person behind the counter, they informally gesture the two of you towards the small seating area. 

Sit wherever.

You slide over the cracked upholstery at a table in the corner. The pink sign lighting up the window casts a glow over his face, the warm color suits him.

When you left your place earlier, you never expected to end up on a date. Especially not here. The location being as much of a surprise as his sudden interest. 

Sure, you always thought he was cute, but you never knew him. He spent all of high school keeping you at arm’s length. Then after, you’ve spent years basing your assumptions about Bakugo off the headlines you’d read. The dates he went on. Always models and idols. Fancy restaurants, valets, and expensive cars.

But this is real.

Across the table, you watch as he slides his suit jacket off. You hadn’t realized how stuffy the atmosphere was earlier until you see him relax, top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up. You forgot about the scars.

The woman running the shop approaches to take your order, not bothering to ask him - it appears he gets the same thing every time he comes in. Having been distracted, you quickly pick the first menu item that jumps out to you. She disappears into the kitchen.

“So, what do you want,” he asks, sitting too casually for the depth of the conversation he’s bringing up. He needs to ask though, otherwise how will he know what to do? “You told me what didn’t work but not what you actually wanted in any of that.”

“I guess I haven’t thought about it. I’ve just been working and-”

“Bullshit,” direct, but his tone is playful as he flashes a slightly crooked smile at you.

Two bowls of ramen float through the air to your table - likely the quirk of the woman before. You’re glad for the momentary distraction, giving you time to consider your answer. The food arrived suspiciously fast but with one sip from the oversized spoon, you know it’s amazing. 

“Holy shit,” you exclaim. 

“Like I’d take you somewhere shitty,” he laughs, “still dodging my question?”

“No,” you pause, pulling a piece of bok choy from the bowl while you consider, “not a villain would be nice.”

“Bar’s that low, huh?”

“...and being able to spend time together at least once a week would be good.”

“Only once a week?” he scoffs, “too easy.”

“What about you?”

He says nothing for a while, chasing a green onion around his spicy ramen with his chopsticks.

“This is good,” he mumbles suddenly uncharacteristically shy, “like a real, actual date.”

Looks like you aren’t the only one with lowered standards.

“Too easy,” you smile.

If he told you how serious of a relationship he actually wants with you, he might scare you off. This is a great start though.

Abruptly, he changes the topic to hero work. You compare stories, scars. 

He tells you how he got the small mark on his neck from a villain with a slashing quirk. How he took out a small area of buildings before Bakugo arrived to apprehend him.

You show him a similar scar on your wrist after the same villain escaped prison. 

The evening passes far too quickly.

As he approaches the counter to pay, you don’t miss the exchange between him and the older woman working. She looks overjoyed, saying something while glancing at you in the booth. He smiles awkwardly, his flushed face apparent even in the dim neon lighting.

“Alright, let’s get outta here,” he asserts while grabbing both of your hands to pull you to your feet.

“Can I take you out again?” he asks, as your feet have barely hit the pavement.

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Perfect.”

more Bakugo: masterlist

[riboism]

tear you apart

》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader

》 wc: 3.3k

》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.

》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut

🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin

It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.

Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season. 

Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you. 

"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.

"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."

There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment. 

It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful. 

Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist. 

The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented. 

From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.

His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.

Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast. 

—

It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.

You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.

The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.

Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.

Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door. 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you. 

“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”

He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.

“I’m Y/N.” 

"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."

You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.

He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.

Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.

"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."

The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.

That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there. 

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.

“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.” 

There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?

“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 

He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away. 

"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again. 

"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.

"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"

Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."

He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.

"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."

Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter. 

"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."

—

You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles. 

The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves. 

“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.” 

You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.

“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.

“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin. 

“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter. 

You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will. 

His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest. 

“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”

—

You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis. 

You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds. 

“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily. 

Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.

Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away. 

Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt. 

Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.

“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.

You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled. 

Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.

“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.” 

Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”

You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.

Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity. 

When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.

He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.

Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.

[urfavoritewriter]

Sleepeating

A commission for a user who prefers to remain anonymous, I had an absolute blast writing this commission that I overshoot well past the word count. Thank you so much for commissioning me! Content: Endosoma, safe vore, belly bulge, belly noises, squirming prey, struggling prey, internal view, accidental vore, sleepwalking vore, swollen belly, round belly, casual vore, male pred, human pred, M/M, large belly, stomach noises, tight stomach, prey struggling inside, long-term vore, unwilling prey, teasing, male prey.

The room was a patchwork of sleeping arrangements—an air mattress in the corner, a pile of mismatched blankets on the floor, and a couple of sleeping bags sprawled haphazardly around the twin beds. The glow of the TV bathed the room in flickering light, an old movie playing at low volume as the group lounged in various states of relaxation. Empty snack wrappers littered the nightstand, the faint smell of buttery popcorn hanging in the air.

“Alright, rookie, rule number one,” said Greg, a wiry guy with messy brown hair and a mischievous grin. He pointed a finger at the newcomer, his tone half-joking but carrying a thread of seriousness. “Don’t. Leave. The bed. At night.”

The newcomer, Andrew, raised an eyebrow, shifting awkwardly on the makeshift bed he’d been given. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and he fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie. “Uh… why?”

Zach, the host and arguably the most relaxed of the group, leaned back on his bed, his legs sprawled out like he didn’t have a care in the world. His blonde curls fell into his eyes as he glanced at Andrew with a lazy smile. “Because Matt sleepwalks,” he said, nodding toward the tallest guy in the room, who was currently shoving the last handful of chips from a bag into his mouth.

Matt swallowed, brushing crumbs off his shirt. “I do not sleepwalk that much,” he protested, though his friends groaned in unison.

“You tried to eat Greg’s shoe last time,” said Sarah, who sat cross-legged near the TV, her black hair tied in a loose ponytail. “Like, full-on chomped it.”

“I thought it was a burrito,” Matt shot back, raising his hands defensively. His broad shoulders and tall frame made him look intimidating, but the sheepish expression on his face softened the effect.

“Dude, you licked it,” Greg added with a laugh, tossing a pillow in Matt’s direction. “That’s where all the foot fetish allegations come from.”

Andrew chuckled nervously, glancing between the group. “So… what, do I need to sleep with one eye open?”

“Nah,” Zach said, waving a hand dismissively. “Just stay in bed. You’ll be fine. Matt’s like a human vacuum when he’s out of it, but as long as you’re not walking around, he’ll leave you alone.”

Andrew didn’t look entirely convinced. “A vacuum?”

“Yeah, a hungry vacuum,” Sarah teased. “Last time he cleaned out half the fridge. And Greg’s shoe, obviously.”

Matt groaned again. “Can we not make me sound like some kind of sleepwalking menace? I’m perfectly normal most of the time.”

“Yeah, sure,” Zach said with a smirk. He grabbed the remote and flicked through the TV channels before settling on a cheesy horror movie. “Just remember, Andrew, don’t wander around if you hear anything. It’s probably just Matt.”

Andrew nodded slowly, pulling a blanket over himself. “Got it. Stay put. Avoid the hungry vacuum.”

Greg snorted. “Smart guy. You’ll survive the night.”

The group laughed, the easy banter filling the room as the movie played in the background. Matt stretched, his frame nearly brushing the ceiling, before collapsing onto his pile of blankets with a loud yawn.

“Alright, lights out soon,” Zach announced, reaching for the lamp by his bed. “Let’s try not to add any more sleepwalking incidents to the list, huh?”

Matt grumbled something incoherent, already halfway to sleep. Andrew, still a little unsure of what he’d signed up for, settled into his makeshift bed, his mind buzzing with the warnings and teasing.

The room gradually grew quieter as everyone drifted off, leaving the TV to cast faint shadows across the walls. The night stretched ahead, calm and uneventful—for now.

Andrew stirred awake to the faint creak of a door hinge. His eyes fluttered open, the dim glow of the muted TV casting flickering shadows across the room. The others were still sprawled out in their makeshift beds, their steady breathing filling the quiet with a rhythmic hum. For a moment, Andrew thought he’d dreamed the noise—until he heard another faint sound.

Crunch.

His brow furrowed. It wasn’t loud, but it was distinct, like someone biting into a cracker. Groggily, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he scanned the room. Everyone else seemed undisturbed, bundled in blankets or sprawled carelessly. Except—he counted quickly—Matt wasn’t there. The mound of blankets that had been his bed was empty, the pillow pushed to the side.

Andrew sighed, shaking his head as the warnings from earlier echoed in his mind. Matt sleepwalks. For a moment, he considered lying back down. It wasn’t like it was his problem, right? But the faint clink of something metallic, like a fork hitting a plate, piqued his curiosity. What’s he even doing?

Carefully, Andrew swung his legs over the edge of his mattress, the cool floor sending a faint shiver through him. He tiptoed toward the door, avoiding the stray wrappers and pillows strewn about, and gently turned the knob. The hallway was dark, the faint orange glow of a nightlight at the far end barely illuminating the space. He stepped out, his socked feet making no sound against the wooden floor.

Another crunch. Then the faint sound of chewing. Andrew followed it, squinting into the darkness as he made his way toward the kitchen. The air was cooler out here, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of a floorboard beneath his weight.

As he neared the source of the sounds, the faint hum of the refrigerator reached his ears. Then another noise—a soft, wet slurp, followed by what sounded like the rustling of a bag. Andrew hesitated for a moment, his heart beating a little faster. Is he seriously eating in his sleep?

He rounded the corner into the kitchen, the faint glow from the refrigerator spilling across the tile floor. Matt was there, hunched over slightly, one hand gripping the fridge door while the other clutched a half-empty bag of chips. His tall frame loomed in the dim light, his broad shoulders casting long shadows against the wall. His head moved slowly, rhythmically, as he chewed on something, completely unaware of Andrew’s presence.

Andrew stifled a laugh. They weren’t kidding. He really is a vacuum. He stepped closer, the floor cool beneath his feet. “Matt?” he whispered, his voice low to avoid startling him.

No response.

Andrew frowned, tilting his head. Matt’s movements were slow and deliberate, like he was in a trance. He dipped his hand into the bag again, pulling out another handful of chips and shoving them into his mouth without so much as glancing around. His other hand lazily swung the fridge door shut, casting the room into near darkness except for the faint glow of the microwave clock.

“Matt,” Andrew said a little louder, stepping closer.

Still no response. Matt’s chewing continued, unhurried and oddly methodical. Andrew couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed in the dim light, but there was something unsettling about the way he stood there, his tall frame casting looming shadows that swayed ever so slightly with each movement.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Alright, buddy, back to bed,” he muttered, reaching out to nudge Matt’s shoulder. “You’re gonna—”

Before he could finish the thought, Matt’s head turned sharply, and Andrew froze. His mouth still moved rhythmically, chewing, but his gaze—or lack thereof—seemed distant, unfocused. His expression was blank, almost eerie, as if he wasn’t entirely present. Andrew took a step back instinctively, his pulse quickening.

“Uh… Matt?” he said hesitantly.

Matt didn’t respond. Instead, he turned back toward the counter, setting the empty chip bag down with a slow, deliberate motion. Andrew watched, unsure of what to do, as Matt’s hand hovered over a loaf of bread, his fingers brushing it as if deciding whether to grab it next.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Andrew muttered to himself, taking another cautious step forward. He reached out again, this time aiming to grab Matt’s arm and steer him back toward the hallway. “Come on, man, let’s—”

Matt moved suddenly, his hand shooting out with surprising speed to grip Andrew’s wrist. Andrew’s breath hitched, his body tensing as Matt’s grip tightened. For a moment, Andrew thought he’d snapped out of it—that he was awake—but then Matt’s blank expression remained unchanged, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond Andrew, as though looking through him.

“Hey, uh, Matt? You good?” Andrew stammered, his voice wavering slightly.

Matt’s grip pulled him closer, the motion slow but unrelenting. Andrew’s heart raced, the air suddenly feeling heavier as he tried to tug his arm free. But Matt’s strength was impossible to resist, his movements steady and unnervingly purposeful.

“Okay, this is not funny anymore,” Andrew muttered, trying to keep his voice calm as he stumbled forward. The faintest hint of warm breath against his neck made him freeze, and in the dim light, he caught a glimpse of Matt’s mouth opening, his jaw stretching slightly in a way that made Andrew’s stomach twist.

What the hell is he doing?

Andrew tugged harder, but Matt’s grip was like iron, and his slow, trance-like movements didn’t falter. The air was thick with tension, the quiet hum of the fridge the only sound as Andrew realized, too late, that Matt wasn’t just sleepwalking.

He was hungry.

Andrew’s heart slammed in his chest as Matt’s grip tightened around his wrist. His breath hitched as he watched Matt’s jaw part further, the glisten of his tongue catching what little light remained in the kitchen.

“Matt?” Andrew’s voice cracked, his throat dry. “Matt, what the fuck are you doing?”

Matt didn’t respond, his head dipping slightly as his tongue slid over Andrew’s arm, leaving a wet, hot trail along his skin. The sensation made Andrew recoil, a sickening mix of fear and confusion twisting in his gut. The warm, slick press of Matt’s mouth closed around his hand, the wetness enveloping him inch by inch.

“Dude. DUDE!” Andrew yelped, his voice rising in pitch as he yanked at his arm. But Matt’s grip was unyielding, pulling him further in as his lips sealed around Andrew’s forearm.

Andrew’s panic flared. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re—you’re fucking sleepeating, man.” His voice wavered, fear lacing every word. “I’m not the food you’re looking for.”

Matt didn’t flinch. His throat emitted a low, almost guttural moan as he sucked harder, the heat of his mouth traveling up Andrew’s arm. Andrew froze, the realization slamming into him. Matt wasn’t biting. He wasn’t tearing at him like some animal. No, Matt was tasting him, savoring every inch as he worked his way upward.

“You’re not serious,” Andrew whispered, his voice trembling as he felt the first tug of Matt’s throat muscles against his fingers. The slick, rhythmic pressure sent a shiver through him. “Oh my God, you are serious.”

His fear spiked as Matt tilted his head back slightly, his lips creeping past Andrew’s elbow. The tight pull of Matt’s throat was unmistakable now, the wet, swallowing sounds filling the silence. Andrew thrashed, his free hand shoving at Matt’s shoulder, his legs scrambling against the tile.

The realization hit Andrew like a brick: He’s not going to chew. He’s—he’s actually swallowing me whole.

“Let go! Fuck, Matt, stop!” Andrew yelled, his voice cracking as he pushed against Matt’s solid frame. But Matt didn’t even flinch. His other hand reached out, grabbing Andrew’s free arm and pinning it firmly at his side.

“Matt, wake up! Wake the fuck up!” Andrew’s voice was frantic now, his breathing shallow as he realized he wasn’t winning this fight. The heat of Matt’s mouth climbed higher, engulfing his bicep as his throat worked in steady, deliberate gulps.

The sound of swallowing filled Andrew’s ears, wet and unrelenting. Each gulp sent a wave of pressure rolling over his arm, pulling him deeper. The slick walls of Matt’s throat pressed tightly against his skin, the heat unbearable, as though the demon vacuum of a friend was actually pulling this off.

“No—no way,” Andrew gasped, his voice shaking as he felt his shoulder press against Matt’s lips. “You can’t—you can’t actually—” He cut off with a yelp as Matt’s jaws stretched wider, the grip around his other arm tightening as it was shoved forward to join the first.

Matt’s body shuddered, his throat rippling as he moaned softly, the sound sending a sick chill down Andrew’s spine. Andrew squirmed harder, kicking out in blind panic, but Matt’s sheer size and strength made resistance feel hopeless.

Matt’s mouth stretched further, the slick wetness of his tongue sliding up Andrew’s arms and across his collarbone. A hot, humid wave of air rushed over Andrew’s face as his head was pulled inside, the suffocating heat making his skin prickle. His heart hammered wildly as his cheek grazed one of Matt’s teeth, smooth and solid, before his tongue pressed firmly against his jawline, dragging upward.

The texture was overwhelming—slick, wet, and unnervingly soft as Matt’s tongue worked under his chin, tasting him with deliberate, almost indulgent motions. Andrew’s nose was filled with the overpowering scent of saliva mixed with the faint, salty tang of whatever Matt had been eating earlier. The smell was thick, clinging to him, and the wet sounds of Matt’s swallowing filled his ears, drowning out his frantic thoughts.

Andrew’s head tipped back as Matt’s tongue curled up around it, smearing saliva through his hair, the wetness soaking into every strand. The pressure from Matt’s teeth framed him on either side, the curve of them brushing harmlessly against his skin, a terrifying reminder of the power being exercised with such unnatural care. The rhythmic movements of Matt’s throat muscles began to pull at him, the slick walls of his gullet brushing against the top of Andrew’s head.

Matt’s throat opened wide to welcome Andrew’s head, the slick, rippling walls pulling him deeper with a relentless rhythm. The heat was overwhelming, wrapping around his face as his chin slid past the soft, yielding base of Matt’s tongue. Andrew’s breath came in shallow gasps, the humid air thick with saliva as his ears were engulfed, the world outside muffled into nothing but the wet, squelching sounds of Matt’s swallowing.

“Matt! Please!” Andrew’s voice cracked, the reality of his situation slamming into him. He wasn’t just being tasted. Matt was swallowing him whole, his slick, warm throat stretching to accommodate him inch by inch.

With a soft, satisfied moan, Matt’s lips closed over the base of Andrew’s neck, his tongue pressing firmly against his nape as he paused to savor the flavor. The tight grip of Matt’s throat muscles around Andrew’s head was unrelenting, the pressure squeezing his features as the walls flexed in slow, deliberate waves, coaxing him further down into the slick, undulating depths of Matt’s body.

Andrew’s chest heaved as his shoulders disappeared past Matt’s lips, the overwhelming heat and wetness pressing against him from all sides. The rhythmic contractions of Matt’s throat dragged him deeper, his body sliding slowly but steadily downward.

“Let me go! You can’t—stop!” Andrew cried, his voice muffled now as Matt’s throat worked around his upper body, pulling him further inside. His head tilted back instinctively, his face brushing against the slick walls as he tried to find space to breathe.

Matt’s hands moved down, gripping Andrew’s waist as he adjusted his angle, tilting his head back even further. The motion sent Andrew sliding another few inches downward, the wet pressure of Matt’s throat wrapping tighter around him.

Andrew’s voice was hoarse now, his struggles growing weaker as Matt’s stomach loomed closer. He kicked out again, his legs finding no purchase as the strength of Matt’s throat muscles overpowered him.

Matt’s moan was louder this time, his hands gripping Andrew’s hips firmly as he tilted his head back once more, his jaws working over the final stretch of Andrew’s torso. The wet gulping sounds grew louder, more insistent, as Matt’s body adjusted to the bulk now sliding into his belly.

Andrew’s heart pounded wildly as the realization hit him in full force: Matt wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t waking up. And soon, he would be completely inside.

Matt’s lips stretched wide as Andrew’s chest passed through, the tight heat of his throat squeezing Andrew’s arms together and forcing them deeper into the belly below. The slick walls of Matt’s esophagus massaged him downward, inch by inch, the steady, relentless contractions making Andrew’s struggles futile. His muffled voice rose in panicked protests, but the pressure around him drowned out all but faint, garbled sounds.

Andrew’s wrists were the first to breach the stomach, the shift in temperature unmistakable as his hands entered a tight, churning space. The walls were slick and undulating, pressing in on him with rhythmic movements that kept him immobilized. His fingers twitched, brushing against half-digested food, the texture both slimy and unrecognizable. Crumbs of chips, something soft that might have been bread—it all surrounded him in the claustrophobic chamber.

“Matt!” Andrew’s muffled voice wavered, his wrists flicking helplessly as he tried to push back against the walls, but the unyielding stomach held him tight. The low gurgling noises grew louder, echoing in his ears as Matt’s body welcomed more of him inside.

From the outside, Matt’s stomach began to expand visibly, the taut skin rounding out with each inch of Andrew’s upper body. The bulge of his shoulders slid into Matt’s chest, making his throat stretch impossibly wide for a moment before the mass moved downward. Matt’s belly swelled larger, the distinct outline of Andrew’s arms faintly visible beneath the skin before they were engulfed by the folds of Matt’s stomach.

With another deep swallow, Matt worked past Andrew’s waist, his powerful throat muscles dragging him down steadily. Andrew’s head and shoulders entered the belly, the space impossibly tight as the walls pressed against him from all sides. He could feel the heat intensify, the air thick and humid, the noises of digestion surrounding him in a way that made it impossible to think.

“Matt! Let me—ugh—out!” Andrew’s voice was barely audible now, his movements weak and restricted as Matt’s stomach continued to stretch. The taut curve of Matt’s belly shifted with Andrew’s struggles, faint ripples moving across the surface as Matt leaned back slightly, savoring the sensation of fullness.

The bulge of Andrew’s hips reached Matt’s lips, and with one final, deliberate gulp, Matt began to take in his legs. The weight in his stomach grew heavier with each inch, the mass pressing firmly outward and rounding his belly into a large, pronounced dome. The elastic waistband of his shorts struggled to stay in place, the fabric digging into the curve of his swollen abdomen.

Andrew’s feet kicked faintly as they slid closer to Matt’s maw, but the demon vacuum of a friend was unrelenting. Another deep swallow brought Andrew’s thighs past his lips, and with a final, wet gulp, Matt’s jaws closed over Andrew’s feet. He tilted his head back one last time, his throat bulging as the remaining length of Andrew disappeared inside him.

The last of Andrew slid down, his curled legs folding into the cramped confines of Matt’s belly. The stomach expanded further, the tight skin visibly rippling as Andrew shifted and pushed against the walls. From the outside, Matt’s gut was enormous, the round shape jutting forward and shaking slightly with Andrew’s struggles. The once-faint sounds of digestion were now louder, a chorus of gurgles and sloshes as Matt’s stomach worked to accommodate its living occupant.

Matt let out a low, satisfied groan, his hands resting on the massive swell of his belly. The weight pressed down on his thighs as he adjusted his position, leaning back slightly against the counter. His fingers traced the outline of the bulge, faintly visible movements beneath the surface making him chuckle softly in his sleep.

Inside, Andrew squirmed, his body contorted in the tight, sweltering chamber. The heat and pressure were overwhelming, the rhythmic contractions of Matt’s stomach keeping him firmly in place. His muffled protests barely registered as Matt shifted, patting his belly with one hand, causing the entire dome to jiggle slightly.

From the outside, Matt’s gut was impossibly round, shaking faintly as Andrew’s movements stirred the contents within. The sight was surreal—a massive, bloated belly rising and falling with Matt’s steady breaths, the occasional ripple betraying the fact that someone was still awake and aware inside. With a faint snore, Matt leaned back further, completely oblivious to the chaos within his oversized stomach as the night stretched on.

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the living room as the soft murmur of the TV played in the background. Most of the group had already gathered, sprawled across the couches and chairs in various states of morning grogginess. The smell of coffee lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the scent of leftover snacks from the night before.

“Dude, you have to see this,” Greg said, barely stifling his laughter as he pointed toward the couch. “Matt’s… uh, looking a little heavier this morning.”

Zach, sipping from a steaming mug, leaned over the back of his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Holy shit, Matt. You pack the fridge in there or what?”

All eyes turned toward the corner of the room, where Matt sat reclined on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the massive swell of his gut, the other scrolling casually through his phone. His belly was enormous, rounded and taut, rising and falling slightly with his breaths. It shook faintly every few moments, ripples traveling across the surface as muffled movements from inside caused the entire dome to wobble.

“Morning,” Matt said, barely looking up from his phone. His voice was casual, almost bored, as though this were just another day. He gave his belly a light pat, the sound echoing faintly in the room.

“Morning? That’s all you’ve got?” Sarah snorted, her eyes wide as she gestured toward his gut. “Are we not gonna talk about that?”

Matt finally glanced up, his expression unfazed. “Oh, this?” He gave his belly another pat, his hand sinking into the firm curve before it wobbled under his touch. “Yeah. I think I, uh… picked something up last night.”

From within, a faint, muffled voice was just barely audible. “Matt! What the hell’s going on? Let me out!” The bulge shook again, Andrew’s movements sending another ripple through the bloated surface.

“Oh my God, is that Andrew?” Greg burst out laughing, nearly spilling his coffee as he doubled over. “You ate him?”

“I didn’t eat him,” Matt said, his tone defensive but still nonchalant. “I was sleepwalking. He probably shouldn’t have been wandering around anyway.”

“Classic Matt,” Zach said, shaking his head with a grin. He grabbed a bag of chips from the counter and tossed it onto Matt’s belly. The bag bounced slightly before settling. “Can’t keep track of what goes in, huh?”

“Apparently not,” Matt muttered, giving his stomach a gentle rub as it gurgled faintly. Another ripple moved across the surface as Andrew shifted inside, his muffled protests drowned out by the low, groaning sounds of the packed belly.

“You’ll get out eventually, Andrew!” Sarah called out, her voice teasing as she leaned back against the armrest. “It’s just, uh… not as easy getting things out of Matt as it is getting them in.”

The group erupted into laughter, and even Matt couldn’t suppress a small chuckle, his hand absently stroking the round swell of his gut. “Yeah, you might be in there for a bit,” he admitted, his voice casual. “But hey, you seem comfy enough.”

“Comfy?” Andrew’s muffled voice rose again, frustration clear even through the thick walls of Matt’s stomach. “It’s cramped, it’s hot, and I’m—ugh! Stop laughing!”

“Sorry, man,” Zach said, his tone anything but apologetic as he tossed a pillow onto Matt’s stomach. “It’s just… you’re part of the crew now. Matt’s version of a warm welcome.”

Sarah shook her head, grinning. “Andrew, if it makes you feel better, you’re not the first thing Matt’s eaten in his sleep. Just, uh, definitely the biggest.”

Greg chimed in, smirking. “And the loudest. Dude, that belly’s been shaking all morning.”

The group’s laughter filled the room again, and even Andrew seemed to give up on protesting, his movements slowing inside the tight confines of Matt’s stomach. Matt, unbothered, leaned back further into the couch, his phone still in hand as he stretched his legs out lazily.

“Well,” Matt said, his voice calm as ever, “I guess we’re all set for breakfast… and entertainment.”

Another round of laughter erupted, and the room settled into a comfortable rhythm, the group teasing and chatting as Matt lounged with his oversized, animated belly. Andrew shifted slightly inside, grumbling muffled protests, but the group’s lighthearted energy made it clear—this was all just another part of the fun.

[heedthetenofwands]

ghost x (lowkey unhinged) sunshine f!reader

suggestive nsfw (but non-explicit)

His girl was the sweetest thing. Smile as bright as the sun and you looked at him like he’d hung the stars and the moon. Coming home to you was always the highlight of his day.

But something was amiss ever since a week ago.

He had come back from base, a day of planning for the next mission and cleaning up from the last, and his heart yearned to be at home with you. Stepping through the front door, he was ready to hear his bird chirping his name and telling him about the day. But the house was silent, the lights were off, and he couldn’t hear a thing.

He waited a moment before calling out your name. It was only when he walked up the stairs to the bedroom that he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed. Your back was to the door.

“Love?” He called to you. You turned your head back to see him before standing up and making your way around the bed to smile and greet him. You hug him tightly, a bit firmer than usual and he had to brace his core a little in surprise. You let go and look at him with an innocent smile.

“Did you have a good day?” You asked.

“It was OK, better now.” He replies. You continue staring at him, almost in contemplation and, without blinking, kiss his cheek and move out of the room.

Alarms bells are ringing.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"There's something wrong." He confesses to them at drinks after work a couple days later. "She's angry."

"Your bonnie? She doesnae seem ta have a malicious bone in 'er. I'm sure it'll pass." Soap says.

Ghost grunts dismissively. "Never been this long."

Gaz hums in thought, "Did you forget a date?"

Ghost stays quiet but Gaz doesn't miss the confused stare. He clarifies, "Birds care about 'em. 1st anniversary, birthdays, the milestones. Can fall through the cracks if you're not careful though."

Ghost replies, "Maybe." In his mind, he's already running his fingers through their calendar.

Price cuts through, "Why not just ask 'er?" Straight to the point, as Ghost expected.

He leans back, "Rather not." Ghost knows he's hiding the real answer. What do I do if I can't fix it?

Price looks at him, assesses him and sees right through him. But before he can press further, Ghost hears his phone buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and after reading the message from you, grumbles a quiet 'fuck' that draws the attention of his team. They lean over to catch a glimpse of the message.

The screen showed previous conversations between the lieutenant and his girl, you sending him your texts with smiley faces, hearts or emoticons with every message. That is, until your latest one which read:

Love: pick up bread on your way home.

The team winced at the cold tone.

"Good luck, mate."

"Warning ya, bakery closes earlier than usual today."

"You're fucked."

Ghost glares at them all before standing up and leaving.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The rest of the week had followed similarly with you just not acting like you're usual self.

That Friday it was your turn to pick a film to watch, where you would usually put on a cheesy rom-com or a tense-filled drama, that night it was a R18 horror movie. Ghost did not utter a single complaint when you put it on. Or move an inch when you lay your head on his chest and smiled at a scene where a cheating husband and his mistress get sliced in two.

Where you two would usually stay in bed together to bask the warm glow of a slow Sunday morning, instead, Simon woke alone. He called your phone again and again until you came home a couple hours later. You ignored his questions. Fearing the worst, he let it go.

And the bite of your finger nails into his skin got stronger and stronger every night as you two lay in bed. It was as is if you were clutching or branding onto him with all your might.

It was later that week, that Simon decided to was time to ask. Time to confront the dissonance that was ringing louder and louder in his ears whenever you touched him, looked at him and smiled at him.

He was going to do it. Right after dinner, he was going to do it.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Ghost, in fact, did nothing after dinner because as soon as you had gathered up the plates. You had returned with a cake.

You brought it to the table. “I know how much you love my desserts, Si. It's been forever since I've made one so I thought I would make your favourite today." You sit down before adding, "I've changed it up a bit, too. New ingredient and whatever.”

Ghost stills at that. “What’s the ingredient, darling?” He says as casually, as he could. Cyanide? Arsenic?

You smile sweetly at him, “It’s a surprise Si, where’s the fun in knowing before tasting it?”

“Right.” He replies, hesitantly.

You start cutting a slice, and place it on his plate before sitting down and waiting for him.

He takes the fork. "You're not hungry, love?"

You shake your head, "I want to see your reaction."

There's a moment where Ghost is trying to remember the poison hotline contact number so he could ring it after his 'taste test' but he finally breaks.

“Nope, can’t do this anymore.” He says.

“Can’t do what, Simon?” You asked with faux concern. You stand up and come to his side of the table to face him. “What’s wrong, baby? You're going to love it.”

“Did I forget an anniversary? Your birthday?” He thought aloud. He doubted it, but he must have done something wrong. He reaches for your arms and gently pulls you to stand in front of him, he holds your hands and bows his head before you. “Tell me love, have I been neglecting you? Spending too much time at work? You can tell me.”

You gently remove your hands from his hold, moving one hand to cup his cheek and the other to tilt his chin so he could meet your gaze. At first, he leans into the gentle palm of your hand but the cold look in your eye with that small smile of your lips makes him freeze.

“Don’t bullshit me, Riley.” Your voice cuts through the candlelit room. He has to fight to not let this do something to him. It gets worse when you use both of your hands to cup his jaw and force his head upwards to meet your gaze. “I found a second phone when I was sorting the laundry. There was a message from another woman. Asking if you would be coming over that night. What a greedy fucker you are.” He has to fight any sound that may escape from his lips at seeing you speak so harsh. “You listen to me, Simon.” His eyes widen as you close the distance of your face to his and your lips are so close. He wants to kiss you. “I will fucking kill her.”

Ghost had no idea what was happening, mind moving too fast and too slow all at once. All he could do was focus on his sweetheart's voice. You stand upright, move closer to Ghost, forcing him to spread his thighs so you can stand between them and press his face to your form, stroking the back of his head, his shoulders, his back as if to soothe and comfort. “I am yours. You made it so. And now, you are mine too."

He can't help the chills running down his spine as he laid his head against your body and felt the presses of your touch. You tell him, “All you need to do is give me her name and where I can find her. And after tonight, we can forget all about this, my love. If you work hard enough, I will forgive you. And in time, I will ask you what deficit I had to make you think you can replace me."

You sigh, "I gave you all week to confess, but you have no shame do you?"

Finally, Ghost's mind seems to catch up, "Wait, wait, sweetheart I don't have a second phone." At that, you tighten the hand in his hair, grabbing a good chunk of the back of his head. He whines at the sensation, "I swear, love." But you do not yield.

His mind is racing.

A second phone?

And finally, he realises. "Sweetheart, wait. It's Johnny's. He mentioned that he lost his phone, the idiot must've dropped in my gym bag. That's why you found it."

Your body stills. "Are you sure, Si?"

While you stay still, Ghost only wraps his arms around you, nestling his face against the warmth of your body and your hesitance. He pleads, "On my life. Call him, darling. Please."

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A phone call later, you confirm that Soap indeed dropped his phone, and was seeing the woman you saw in the notifactions. With a sinking feeling, you return to the kitchen table.

"Si, I'm so sorry." You tell him, tears already brimming your water line. "I should've just asked you-" Before you can say another word, Ghost had already stood up and embraced you. You sink against him.

You should have never doubted a starving dog.

Ghost smiles as he releases you from his hold, "You still want dessert?" He looks back at the cake.

You only giggle, "Yes, let's eat. Not that one though." You ignore Ghost's questioning gaze as you walk to the fridge, humming a small tune, and then pull out another identitical cake. You set it on the table, smiling innocently as the blood drains from Ghost's face. "Let's eat, Si."

[a-spes]

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part three (8.929 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further.  Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader (platonic), Other Avengers x R. Angst with comfort, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, severe injuries, no happy ending.

| Author's notes — This is the last part of the "Devious Lies" serie, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

Many people would say that you are not a hero, not anymore. You have lost this title years ago, the day you revealed your true face to the world by cheating on Natasha —; how could they trust someone with their lives when that person can’t even remain loyal to their girlfriend? A hero is not a human, it is a perfect being that exists for the sole purpose of saving the world, and making children dream. You exist only to give hope to the population, but there is none once they discover that you are just like any of them, someone full of flaws, and failures, just a mess —; just human. 

Who knows the horrible things you might have done in the past, or the numerous lies you could have said to twist the reality? Not them, because they know nothing of the truth behind your departure, but they were still convinced that you were a monster who had been lying to them all this time, and it was too late to undo their hatred. A few days had been enough for rumours to spread, suddenly everyone had a story to share that proves how wicked you were. These stories have slowly replaced those of your greatest achievements, the many times you saved the world now forgotten in favor of all the little things you did wrong.

And you know these stories by heart because you have read about them in newspapers, heard them on television and in cafés. Wherever you go, these rumors follow you, they stick to your skin like an obsessive ex that won’t let you go, even after several years. The people never forget, nor they forgive.

Yet, none of them had the courage to hate you to your face. No, it was always behind your back, a bunch of glances they thought were discreet and whispers as soon as you turned around. You might not be their hero anymore, but you haven’t lost your abilities, and they are aware that you could easily kill any of them in less than a minute. But, instead of letting the anger consumes you, you pretended to not see the fear in their eyes, mixed with hatred. Except that, the longer this situation lasted, the more difficult it became for you to ignore their hostility. You would lie if you said it didn’t bother you to see these emotions replace the admiration that used to sparkle in their eyes.

If you are being honest, you have thought about it, about killing some of them. These thoughts come to your mind more times that you care to admit —; it would be so easy to snap their necks so you will never hear their hateful whispers again.

What do you have to lose anyway?

Nothing you haven’t already. At worst, they will send you in prison, but to your exhausted mind the idea sounded more tempting than repellent. Sometimes, you think about it as a sweet dream, and it brings you some peace —; if you were in prison, you would be blessed with ignorance. If you were in prison, they would have a real reason to use these slurs. If you were in prison, you would eventually be where you deserve to be. But, no matter how many times you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and so, instead, you shut yourself away in your crappy apartment, where you could no longer harm anyone.

—   —   — 

“But you are still a hero,” the man told you. It was months ago, almost a year, and it was the first time you had seen Fury since the events that led you to take a break. 

A break that was coming to an end, and that you were desperately trying to prolong. Unfortunately, the man is as stubborn as you are, and he is determined to convince you to return to the field. He needs you, and that is obvious, even though those words haven’t crossed his lips. You can feel his desperation. 

You disagree with him. 

You are not a hero, and he definitely doesn’t need you. There are dozens of agents more talented than you are, dozens of promising, and less controversial, souls who deserve a chance. He should better abandon you now, and let you rot in your apartment, because he will be disappointed sooner or later. But you didn’t tell him that. Instead, you stayed quiet, because the words were stuck in your throat.

“Don’t tell me that you are that kind of agent?” he asked, to fill the silence. The tone of his voice had changed slightly. There was something petty about it, something that is crawling under your skin —; it is the disappointment that his words carry. Yet, you have no idea what he is talking about —; “that kind of agent”? The worlds held no meaning to you, but you could still feel that they didn’t bode well, and that you didn’t want to be that kind of agent. You can see his eyebrows rise in anticipation of an answer you can’t give him.

“What kind?” you asked back, without any conviction, just because you know that is what he expects. You accompany these words with a sigh.

You are not in the mood for this kind of game. You only want one thing, and it is to go back to your apartment, to slip back into the comfort of your sheets and stay there for days to come. In fact, you may never leave them ever again. That is the only place where you can ignore the world, where all your worries disappear along with the rest. The only place where you do not need to be human, or pretend to be strong, where you can be a mess, and no one would be here to judge.

You were really not comfortable at the idea of coming here, to Fury’s office, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. 's headquarters, and being there makes the feeling even worse. He promised you that no one would know, but how could he be sure? The mere thought that one of them could see you there makes you nervous, and prevents you from concentrating.

What if it happens?

What if, despite Fury’s promises, you run into one of them?

You have no idea what you might tell them if it happens. Is it better to beg for their forgiveness, or would it be too much? You bet they wouldn’t even listen to you, anyway —; they haven’t in the past, why would it be different a year later?

Maybe they won’t even acknowledge you, and you should probably do the same —; but wouldn’t it be worse? You are not sure that you could handle this possibility, that you could walk by the people that once were your family as if they were complete strangers.

Maybe it is better if they decide to scream —; that is what a part of you is craving for, no matter how twisted it can be. Because, if they scream, if they still hate you, it means that they care, right? No one would take some of their time and energy to yell at someone they don’t care about, right? Because it wouldn’t make sense.

“The kind that does it for fame,” he replied, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. It was so intense that it made you want to disappear. You hate it, the way he looks at you, as if he knows all the secrets of your soul, and so you are fidgeting in your seat, unable to stay still because of your nerves.  

“No, I am not,” you sighed the words that you knew the man was expecting you to say, falling right into his trap. You are conscious of it, but you are too exhausted to fight, and it is way much easier to give the man what he wants.

Yet, your voice is full of uncertainty —; does it make you a bad person to want to stop helping people? At least, that is what he seems to be suggesting, and maybe he is not wrong. Maybe the only reason you want to stop is because you are selfish —; anyone with your skills wouldn’t hesitate to save the world. But not you, not anymore. Why? When did you become one of the bad guys, one of those who don’t care about others?

You want to tell him — to yell at him — that it is not about lost celebrity, that it was about being hated by almost every soul living on earth, but the words get stuck in your throat —; what’s the difference, after all? Are you really gonna let people die because they do not like you, is that the kind of person you became? No, it is not, and it will never be.

“Does that mean I can count on you?” he asked, and you answered with a murmured yes, because that is what he wants to hear, and because you only want this conversation to end. From the very moment you sat on this chair, you have been eyeing the exit, and you are more than willing to give the man what he wants in exchange for the right to leave.

—   —   —

“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further. 

Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity.

What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain. It has been several years since you lost the title of hero. It is not about your great successes anymore, it is about all the mistakes you have ever made, the ones that make you detestable in the public’s eyes. Now, you are just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and a controversial one at that. You are the rotten apple that the direction doesn’t really know what to do with. They might desperately need you — or, more accurately, your skills — but they do not want the world to discover that they didn’t fire you despite what they had announced to ease the minds.

Nevertheless, you had agreed to pretend, and to play Fury’s little games, because you didn’t know what else to do. You have been a little lost since you left the team, and the missions you were regularly sent on were a good distraction, but it has been months now, and you do not have the energy to pretend anymore.

Once this mission is over, the first thing you are going to do is to tell the man that it is over, you are quitting — yeah, you are going to leave the agency, and start a new life. The idea sounds appealing, and warms you heart with an emotion you thought you had forgotten; a will to live. You have waited long enough. You are not sure what you are going to do yet, but you know that it will be better — anything would be better than your current life. It will be a second chance, and a real one this time. Maybe you will change your name, and your face, and so you could be anyone you want to be — someone that no one hates. 

But, for now, the only thing you want is some rest. Slowly, your limbs become numb and, soon enough, you are not able to walk anymore, the ground disappears beneath your feet and you collapse into the snow, your legs unable to support the weight of your body. 

Maybe that is your second chance, you thought. Maybe the afterlife will be gentle.

It is so tempting to just close your eyes, to let the cold soothe your pain, and take all your worries away. You don’t know how long you have been walking, wandering around, waiting for help that may never come — probably for days. Days that seemed like an eternity. You were trapped in a landscape that you would surely have found magnificent, had the circumstances of your presence here been different.

The snow falling from the sky covers everything, and not an ounce of greenery escapes it. Yet, the sight wasn’t comforting — it was threatening, and scary. It was so cold that you couldn’t feel your fingertips. Everything was white, and all looked the same, turning the forest into a maze with no way out. The trees rose up, mocking and oppressive, as if they were only waiting for the moment you would give up.

Be patient. It will be soon, you thought, as your body hit the ground in silence.

You hardly notice you’ve fallen. You don’t even have the strength to try and get up, but maybe you don’t want to. The snow forms a gentle embrace, and you feel it begin to cover you in white too. Soon, you are going to disappear, and you’ll become a part of the landscape — How is it going to take, for nature to hide your body, to make it seem like you have never been here? A few hours? And how long would it take for them to find you? Probably more time. Who is “them”, anyway? You are not sure someone is coming from you, and despite your hopes, it is more likely that they won’t come. Did you forget that you have no one? If people do not care enough to show up at your funerals, do you really think that they would go to the trouble of looking for you in the middle of nowhere? What an idiot you are, you should know, by now, that there is no hope.

No one is coming. 

Even though the idea might sound sad, it brings a small smile to your face, as well as a weird sense of comfort — The peace you’ve been looking for is eventually within your reach. Soon, the world is going to forget your name, and your story. Maybe they won’t even know that you died here, alone in the woods, where no one can find your body.

You have tried to warn them about the situation. A last desperate plea for help to be sent, but you never found out if they got your message because your broken radio had died before they could confirm. Despite being an experienced agent, you have been caught out of guard by the situation — Should you wait for them here, or should you try to find a way back home on your own? The decision was made for you when the enemies started looking for you, there was no way you could escape them by staying in their base. Outside, you could hide more easily, and maybe even find a way out of here.

Yet, the days went by, and all you have done is get lost in the forest, a labyrinth made deadly by the snow and very low temperatures. There is no room for life in this place, and the fact that you survived for a few days is a miracle in itself.

You were perfectly aware of the risks when you accepted the mission. There are always high risks in this profession, and you were prepared to take them all, even the most irrational ones because nothing scared you — That’s your strength, you’ve never shied away from a mission. You knew that it wouldn’t go on forever, and that the risks you were taking would eventually lead to your demise — But who cares? Not you, nor Fury. Maybe it was exactly what you were both looking for-; the man wanted a soldier, and you wanted a way to die with dignity, which is exactly what he offered you.

And so, you accepted every mission he presented to you, worked on every file that was put on your desk without thinking twice about it. There was always a good reason to accept, many lives to save, and countless threats to the world, and for that, you were willing to take the risks that nobody else wanted to take. That’s what heroes do, right? They put their lives in line, for the sake of the population. 

So far, you have done surprisingly well, successfully returning from each of your missions. Yet, you knew it was only a matter of time before you ran out of luck. Maybe your current situation is solely your fault, for thinking that you could keep pushing your limits indefinitely — For forgetting that you are not a hero, only human. The blood between your fingers is there to remind you of that. It is red, as the one of all the people who live on this planet, and you can pretend all you like that you are a hero, but you’ll never be able to escape your condition, that of being human.

Yet, there is something oddly comforting in watching your blood staining the snow. Something that cradles you until your eyes close, something that helps you accept your destiny. These bloodstains are the silent promise that peace will soon arrive, the peace you have waited patiently for for years.

—   —   —

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” the woman screamed, her voice echoing throughout the room. No one dared looking at her, everyone avoiding her gaze. The team had just returned from yet another search mission, one of their last hopes of finding you, only to inform her that they had lost track of you — Again. 

The woman knows that she should not have listened to Clint when he told her that she’d better stay in the Quinjet and rest, something she has clearly been lacking in recent days. He even promised her that he would do his best. They all promised, but it was just lies. 

Natasha has waited for them for hours, obviously unable to rest because she was so consumed with anxiety. She had walked the whole length of the Quinjet more times than she can count, waiting for their return. When they came back empty-handed, she was furious. Not only they didn’t find you, but above all they had lost the only hint of your presence that they had managed to find since the search began, almost a week ago.

If she had been with them, things would have been different. She would have found you, she is sure of it — because she would have refused to come back before that happened.

Everything now seemed hopeless, and everyone was aware of this. That probably explains why they are abiding her gaze, not to escape her anger, but because they do not want to witness the pain they could read in her eyes. The spy had always been good at hiding her emotions, and no one had ever been able to read her — even after you left, two years ago, she remained composed — but her mask had started to crack in the last few days, and everyone could now see her worries. 

Natasha was the one who insisted for the Avengers to come for you, and although she insists that this decision is only motivated by her duty, everyone knows there is more to it than that — Feelings that the years had not erased, strong ones that she had buried, but which were resurfacing since she learned that you were in danger. You are her weakness, you are the only one that can make her lose her temper that easily, it is as if she was suddenly a child again — One with emotions too big for his understanding. It is like two years ago, when she saw the pictures and felt her heart being shattered.

“It is okay, I am sure that we are going to find her,” a voice raised, and it was Fury’s. The man was the only one to be brave enough to do such a thing, the only one who didn’t fear the redhead, even though he was the one who should be most wary. The man is standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, his arms crossed — They could have been talking about their next meal, and he would have had the same fucking attitude, she thought. “She is strong, and smart. I am sure she will find a way to survive, do not underestimate her, Romanoff,” he calmly added, but his disastrous attempt to calm the atmosphere has the opposite effect — All she wanted to do was to violently rip the expression on his face, she couldn’t stand the overconfidence she could read on it, and the calmness that didn’t fit with the seriousness of the situation. 

“You know nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth, the only way she had found to not scream at him, “you are just trying to make yourself feel better about what’s happening because it is your fault. One of your agents is going to die, and it is all your fault!” she yelled the last sentence, unable to keep her voice low as she felt the rage building inside her. The man didn’t even care, he sees you as an asset, not as a human.

“She is an agent, Romanoff, and one of the best. It is her job to take risks, and she knew them before accepting the mission. This regrettable accident is no one’s fault,” he said, unimpressed by the redhead’s outburst.

“Oh, please!” she exclaimed with a bitter laugh, “this mission wasn’t risky, it was suicidal, and you are perfectly aware of that. No one in their right mind would have accepted it, but she was vulnerable, and you knew it, and took advantage of her state to get what you wanted!” she had moved closer, until she was almost spitting in his face, until the accusing finger she was pointing at him almost touched his chest. She knows the man and his tricks, she knows that he always finds a way to get what he wants. “I hope it was worth it because, if we don’t find her alive, I’ll make sure to bury you next to her grave,” she spitted, not even trying to hide her threat — No, not a threat. It was more than that, it was a promise. 

Those are the last words she said before leaving the Quinjet.

They have been looking for you for days, and everyone is painfully aware that the chances of finding you are diminishing with every passing minute. Yet, the woman is not ready to stop, not until she has hugged you one last time, dead or alive. Looking for you was no easy task, and every clue they have found eventually led to a dead end — You are too skilled for your own good, she thought, and it was almost frustrating. If it wasn’t for your skills, and your ability to disappear without leaving a trace, they would have found you days ago. If it wasn’t for your skills, Fury would have never sent you on this mission alone, and he definitely wouldn’t have waited for so long before sending a rescue team.

The woman had to beg him, to scream, for him to accept to give in some pieces of information about how you were doing. He said that you were fine. He said that you were fine, but it was just a lie. He looked at her, promising that nothing would happen to you, but he only said that to get her out of his office. As she later learned, the man had no idea of how you were doing because it was a no-contact mission, and if you gave them news, it would only be to share bad ones.

She heard the message you sent, a plea for help playing on a loop in her mind. Despite the poor quality of the transmission, and the cut words that prevented them from understanding your situation clearly, she could feel your fear, one that made her blood run cold — The woman has never heard you being so scared before.

Fury has waited two days before sharing the message with her. He said that he was positive you would find a way out on your own, and it would be too risky to send a team there when they had no idea how the situation was, but she hadn’t listened to him. All the woman could see was how he almost ruined every chance to rescue you for some ego problems, and foolish confidence — Everyone knows that after two days the chances of finding a missing person alive are slim. 

She hates him for that. She hates him for allowing you to die.

Or maybe it is herself that she hates, for letting you down years ago, when you needed her the most — If she hadn't, none of that would have happened, you wouldn’t have taken such risks in the hope of achieving some kind of redemption.

“What do you want?” she asked curtly to the person that was following her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was — Steve. In recent years, the man had developed the bad habit of following her wherever she went, convinced that she needed him.

“You forgot that,” he said, and she looked over her shoulder at the jacket in his hands. A wry smile appeared on her lips at the sight of the garment.

“Because I don’t need it,” she sighed, her tone as cold as the forest because of how exasperated she was by the way the man was trying to play hero. Maybe he was one for the rest of the world, but the woman definitely didn’t need to be saved, and especially not by a man that is convinced he knows everything better than everyone else.

“And, how exactly, do you expect to be able to help her if you are freezing to death?” He asked, trying to coax her into taking the jacket — But only someone who doesn’t know her well could imagine having any chance of convincing the woman.

“Did you forget where I am from, Roger?” She asked back, stopping in her tracks to face him, the sudden act surprising the man who almost ran into her, “If you are cold, then you can go back to the jet. No one asked you to follow me. So now, shut up or leave me alone,” she warned him before resuming her journey, the man at her heels. Natasha wasn’t walking in the forest for pleasure, and she couldn’t afford any distraction.

The woman has to concentrate to make sure she doesn’t miss any traces of your presence. These are rare, almost imperceptible, and easily hidden by the snow. She needs to be sure that she won’t miss anything, and that is something she can’t do if the centenarian doesn’t stop rambling in her ears.

Fortunately, the message seems to have got through because not a word was spoken for the next hours, and the two Avengers just walked in silence. Only the snow crunching under their feet broke the heavy silence. It had been hours, and the landscape didn’t seem to change, giving the impression that they were walking in place, or that they were going in circles. No matter where her eyes landed, all she could see were snow-covered trees, but that was until she spotted it. It was almost invisible, but there was no way she was going to miss the only thing that wasn’t white in the landscape — A red stop. A spot of blood, probably caused by a few drops, but that was leading to a trail staining the forest’s perfect white coat.

“Wait! Where are you going?” the man exclaimed when he noticed that his partner had run off, but he got no answer. His eyes weren’t as sharp as hers, and so he didn’t notice the stains straight away.

When he finally catches up with the woman, he was so taken aback by the scene that he was unable to move, or speak. It was so unexpected that he felt like he was daydreaming, and wondered if it wasn’t the cold that was causing him to hallucinate.

There, a few meters away from him, the redhead was kneeling in the snow. She was close to a body whose identity was in no doubt — You. Suddenly, all he can see is the rigidity of your body, the bluish tint of your lips, the snow that is covering your face, but above all the scarlet puddle that is staining the snow, so big that no one could miss it.

“Give me the jacket,” she asked him, her tone firm despite the obvious tremor in her voice. Her eyes never leave you, even for a moment, perhaps because she was afraid that you would disappear, and that she would lose you, again. “Steve. The jacket,” she asked again, but more urgently this time, “give me the fucking jacket, and go get the others!” she repeated, and the shout seems to shake the man out of his torpor because he eventually hands her the jacket before running off, in the direction of the jet. 

Natasha didn’t look back, but she heard his footsteps in the snow as he walked away. Now alone, she gently lifts your body, wrapping you in the jacket, and even pulling the hood down your face to protect you from the snow and wind. She can’t help but let her hands linger on your visage, her thumb gently tracing your features, then brushing past your now blue lips to eventually follow the wound on your cheek.

For a few seconds, she allows herself to get lost in the familiarity of your face, but the blood that is left on her thumb after she ran it over your cheek brings her back to reality — You are dying. Maybe you already are, dead. Yet, there is not much she can do before the arrival of the rest of the team, except praying to all the gods whose names she knows, even though she has never believed in them — Please, if you exist, it is the moment to do something good, she thought, and the woman was so deep in her thoughts, trying to keep the last shred of sanity she had, because the last thing you need is for her to lose her temper, that she missed it at first, those words that came out of your mouth.

“What?” she asked, a little abruptly, as her eyes fell on your face. Your expression hadn’t changed, your eyes were still closed, and so were your lips, giving the impression that she had imagined the whisper. “Did you say something?” She nevertheless asked, and several seconds passed in silence. She felt the hope that had made her heart beat being replaced by despair, until she notices the trembling of your lips as they try to come to life. At first, no sound escapes, only a whimper that breaks her heart. “Shh, it is okay, take your time, baby. You can do it,” she quietly encouraged you as she noticed your struggles. 

Her hands cup your face, and the warmth of the contact, accompanied by the circles her thumbs are tracing on your cheeks, is comforting. It helps you to ignore the pain for a moment. The gesture even gave you the strength to talk.

“You..,” you started, but this simple word requires so much effort that you need to catch your breath before continuing. “ ..came..,” you eventually added, the second word coming out as a broken whisper, and the woman has to be close if she wants to understand what you are saying.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, “yes, I did. W- We are all here, baby,” she softly replied, her voice trembling slightly because of emotion, just like her hands as she continued cradling your face. 

They are here? All of them? You thought, and the realization brings tears to your eyes. The woman can also feel tears welling up in her eyes, and you can see them. Yet, she should not cry. She has no right to cry when you need her to be strong and calm your fears. The woman knows it and yet, she can’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. For so long, she had hoped to see you again, prayed for a second chance even though she knew she didn’t deserve it, but she hadn’t imagined that life could be cruel enough to offer her what she most wanted under the worst circumstances — Once again, she was about to lose the most important person in her life.

“Is.. that.. end.. ?” You painfully asked the woman. 

You have once heard a belief saying that the Angel in charge of helping a soul to travel to the other side always takes the appearance of the person the deceased loved the most during their life. You wouldn’t have expected anyone but the redhead to be yours. You may have tried to hate her for years, but the truth is that you have been unable to stop loving the woman.

“Because..,” you continued, but were stopped by a violent coughing fit. “Am.. ready.. now..,” you eventually managed to say. You want nothing more than to touch her face one last time, but your body refuses to listen to your desire and, as you try to move your hand, all you manage to do is to wiggle your fingertips — But it is okay, you thought. You are content enough with being able to see her one last time, and knowing that her comforting touch is the last thing you would feel before Death wraps its arms around your body, taking you somewhere where pain does not exist. 

“The.. end?” The woman repeated after you, a bit confused at your words, and you can tell because of how her eyebrows are knitted together. “Oh no, honey, it is not,” she whispered, trying to bring you a bit of comfort. “You are going to be fine, I promise,” she said, repeating those words a few times, unsure if they are really meant for you.

“I.. know.., I.. believe.. you..,” you whispered back.

“Then stay with me, baby, okay? Keep your eyes open for me, please. Just a few more minutes, and then everything will be fine, I promise. Do you think you can do that for me?” She started rambling when she noticed that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Yet, it doesn’t seem to work as she watches you slowly slip into unconsciousness. “Tell me, love, where does it hurt? Could you do that for me?” She attempted, hoping that the question would be enough to ground you, to keep you here, with her, until the others arrive.

“Everywhere..,” you whispered, and it was the last thing you said. You were in so much pain that your whole body was numb, and you could barely feel something, unable to tell the difference between your arms and legs.

You are not sure what happened next, or how long it was before the rest of the team arrived, because despite Natasha’s attempts to encourage you to stay awake, you ended up losing consciousness. The last thing you were aware of was the sound of a vehicle, along with a few words that were yelled, and even if you couldn’t understand what they were saying, you were able to grasp the urgency in their tones. The last thing you remember was being lifted. That is when you knew you could do, before the arms that were carrying you were comforting, they were the promise that everything would be fine now.

After all, she promised. Didn’t she?

—   —   —

It was all a lie, when she promised that things would be okay now.

Since the very moment you have opened your eyes, after a few days spent in a coma, the world has been nothing but pain. She had promised you a world where suffering doesn’t exist, but had given you the exact opposite, every day being worse than the one that preceded it. Your wounds won’t heal, and despite the weeks that had passed, you were unable to walk properly, or anything without help. Every step you make, every breath you take, are the reminders of what was taken from you.

You had wished for Death. You had waited for the moment you could leave this world almost impatiently, but when the time eventually came, you were brutally ripped from Its arms. When the woman wrapped her arms around you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, whispering the promise that everything would be fine now, you naively believed her. It is not before it was too late that you realized your mistake. You have thought that the woman you saw was your angel, but it has only been Natasha, a human, with her flaws and mysteries.

Why did she even decide to come?

The question has not left your mind since you opened your eyes. It raises a feeling of confusion, and anger, because there is no explanation you could think of that would make a bit of sense.

You have not talked since they brought you there, at the compound. It is a place that you’ve never thought you would ever see again, but mostly a place you never wanted to return to. At first, they thought that you just needed a bit of time to adapt, but the days soon became weeks, and you remained locked in your silence despite their many attempts to encourage you to say a few words. The only sounds they have heard coming from you are the whimpers of pain that sometimes fall past your lips.

Natasha has tried to speak to you, but you would always ignore her questions and ramblings. Yet, it has never stopped her from trying. Even though she is not sure that you can hear her, even though whenever she enters your room, she finds you looking out of the window, staring blankly. The woman had stopped closing the shutters a while ago, so you would always have something to look at, but you probably didn’t even notice the difference. It seems that your mind is somewhere else, somewhere she can’t reach.

You are far from here, from this room you hate with your whole heart but that you can’t leave despite your desires. A room that is not yours, and certainly not home despite what they may say, and you would rather be anywhere else, even if it means locking yourself in your thoughts. 

It is something they would have known if they had asked you, but apparently they didn’t think to ask for your opinion when deciding your future. The Avengers Tower is quiet, and comfortable. Somewhere you are familiar with, and where you would be able to get the care you need — The perfect place. The only place. You have no family, no friends, that could have agreed to take care of you until you are back on your feet. The Avengers may not be your family anymore, but they are the only ones who have agreed to bear this responsibility — Or most likely they felt like they had to. You probably want to be here as much as they want you to be there, and you know that they are silently praying that you will go away soon. You are the constant reminder of what they want to forget.

And so, you have slowly found comfort in your own mind. The only place where they can’t bother you, where suffering and time does not exist. Except that, as the days go by, it gets harder to ignore the woman. She is the only one who has never given up, always trying to talk to you when she comes to your room, even though you have never replied once. Whenever she comes to bring your meal, or your medicine, or help you to change, she would stay a bit longer, rambling about anything that comes to her mind — And you hate it. You don’t care about her last mission, nor do you care about the last movie she has seen. 

When she is here, time seems to flow slowly, minutes becoming a painful eternity. You wish the woman would understand your silence as the sign that you don’t want to talk, but it is apparently not a sufficient clue because she has never stopped talking.

The last thing you want is to get out of your caparace, because you don’t want to see what is outside, but it becomes almost impossible to ignore the world when the woman keeps invading your bubble. Her voice, her soft touches,.. they held a new promise — Everything will be fine, she continues saying, but now you know it is not true. You have fallen for her lies one time, and promised to yourself that you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. These touches didn’t bring you any comfort, only frustration which then turned into anger. You have felt it boiling inside you for days now — Until you couldn’t bear it any more.

“Why?” You whispered. The woman was helping you to put on clean pyjamas, and you think she was rambling about her day when you cut her off with your question.

You are not sure why you have decided to talk that day. You are not even sure that it was your decision, the broken whisper falling past your lips before you could realize what was happening. You wish you could take back your word, but it was too late. The woman was as surprised as you were, judging by the expression on her face. Her lips are moving, but it is her turn to be at a loss of words.

Somehow, the hesitation you could read on her face made yours disappear instantaneously. Suddenly, you didn’t want to stay silent anymore. You wanted to be heard, to get the anger out of your body because you couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.

“Why?!” You repeated, but this time you yelled the question. At least, it was the intention, but after so much time without talking, the word was nothing like a scream, only a strangled cry. Yet, despite your voice being weak, you realized that you didn’t want to stay quiet anymore — Not now, when you just got it back. Not when there are so many things you want to say, to scream in their faces.

“Why what?” She softly asked, stopping what she was doing for a second. Her hands were resting on your knees as she was talking. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, and had to lower your head a little to meet her eyes. Yet, she doesn’t dare to hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

You scoff when she looks away, doing the same thing as you can feel tears coming in your eyes. She must not see them. “Playing games, are we?” You said back. Your tone is venomous, your words rude, and meant to hurt the woman, even though she took care of you the past few weeks.

It may sound unfair to treat the woman after all she has done for you — After she saved your life. Yet, she is still the one who dumped you years ago, the one who broke your heart, ruined your life, and made promises she couldn’t keep. The truth is that, if you can’t handle her presence, it is because you know that you don’t want her to be really gone — You shouldn’t, but you want more of it, more of her and her reassuring presence. Her sudden gentleness, after she pushed you away so violently, is building your hopes back up. A feeling that is painful when you know that they would never become a reality.

“Listen,.. I-,” she sighed, but before she could find the right words to answer your questions, you cut her, again. You already had enough, wanting this conversation to end, and now.

“If you can’t give me an honest answer, then I don’t want to listen to you,” you abruptly said, warning the woman that she should carefully choose her next words.

The woman may want to say something, but when she opens her lips, no sound comes out — Because she has no idea what to say. The truth is that Natasha is as confused as you are, the same unanswered questions occupying her mind. She doesn’t know why she went after you, and the lack of response keeps her awake at night. 

The woman simply knew that she needed to be there, that her place was by your side, and no word was strong enough to describe how worried she had been about you all this time, a feeling that has lingered inside her since you left. She pretended not to care, tried to bury these feelings as she had been raised to do, but it never really left.

You had poisoned her soul, her heart.

But you know. You already know the answers to your questions, you only asked because you wanted to hear them from her mouth. You want her to admit that her actions were only guided by her guilt, not by the love she pretends to bear for you, because that is the only way you would be able to get rid of the painful hope that, maybe, things could go back to the way they used to be.

But obviously she wouldn’t say that. 

The great Natasha Romanoff would never admit that she is selfish, and imperfect. 

That she is far from the hero everyone thinks she is.

“Get. out,” you eventually asked the woman. She has hesitated, and missed her chance to say something. “GET OUT,” you yelled when you noticed she was about to protest, “LEAVE ME ALONE,” you added, pushing the woman who was kneeling in front of you with all your strength. When she didn’t budge, it only added to your distress.

For once, she listened to you, and left the room. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and just like that you found yourself plunged into the silence you’ve been longing for — Yet, it didn’t feel as comforting as you expected it to be.

Somehow, since that day, you have only felt worse. Since you have found your voice again, you only used it to express your anger, yelling at anyone trying to get into your room. It has been several days now, that your cries have been echoing in the tower, making it clear that you wanted to be left alone. If the past few weeks you have been bearing Natasha’s presence, it wasn’t the case anymore, and now the woman couldn’t even do something as simple as knocking at your door without you screaming. You do not want to see, hear, or feel her — Even the mere thought of the redhead was too much.

All of them had tried to step in your room, convinced they would be the one able to calm you down, but everything they achieved was to worsen the situation. Eventually, they stopped coming, giving you the loneliness you thought you wanted — Then why are not feeling better, now that you have what you asked for? 

You are torn apart by contradictory feelings and needs, unable to quite understand what is going on in your mind — It is obvious that you don’t want to see Natasha. And yet, everytime someone other than the woman opened this door, you felt disappointment filling your heart. Maybe that is why you yelled, why you were so angry. 

When they eventually stopped knocking at your door, you caught yourself hoping for them to come back. Your days are now an endless succession of hopes, built up at every sound of footsteps in the corridor, and disappointments, when you eventually hear them going away. She has proven you right, you thought. She has proven to you that she doesn’t care, and you have used up all your tears crying over this idea, days and nights. 

You wish you hadn’t said those things, that you hadn’t screamed at the woman, because you were now missing her presence. Her gentleness may have been annoying, but it has been so long since the last time someone has been this gentle with you, that now it was gone, you were craving to get it back. She gave you a second chance, and you have thrown it away for what? Nothing.

It took a few days before you eventually decided to leave your room. It was not by choice, obviously, and you only agreed to leave the comfort of your bed because of the hunger that was slowly gnawing at your insides. The last meal you got was the same day as the last time you saw Natasha, and you knew you couldn’t go much longer without eating. At first, you told yourself you would endure the pain, that you deserved it for what you did to the woman, but it didn’t make it more bearable, and you eventually gave in.

The plan you made in your mind was easy — Waiting for the night to come, make sure that no one is awake, and then quickly getting down to the kitchen. Only a few minutes, only time to grab some snacks before making it back to the comfort of your room. Yet, you should have known that things never go as they are meant to.

The journey to the kitchen was everything but easy. You have probably been a bit too optimistic about your ability to walk when you thought about your plan. The pain in your leg was so intense that you were only able to take a few steps before collapsing, and had to almost drag yourself down there. Every step felt like running miles, leaving you short of breath. And yet, despite all your efforts, despite your strong will, you were eventually forced to give up when your legs have once again shifted under your weight, leaving you on the ground, unable to get up despite your attempts. 

When even crawling felt too demanding, you were left with no choices but to wait for someone to rescue you. Suddenly, you were submerged by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, and shame, that only worsened when you heard footsteps. You didn’t say anything, and only closed your eyes, hiding your tears behind your eyelids. You were softly praying that whoever is here would ignore your limp figure, scattered on the living-room’s floor, and do whatever they came here for as if you weren’t here. 

“Oh sweetie, no.. I won’t do that,” a feminine voice softly said, and you immediately recognize it as Wanda’s. It holds a gentleness that is unique. 

Your suspicions are confirmed a moment later, when the woman kneels beside you. For a second, you thought about pushing her away, especially when her hand brushes your hair out of your face. The witch is aware of that, but she also knows that, deep down,  behind the walls that you’ve built to protect yourself, you were craving for her attention. That’s why the woman didn’t remove her hand right away, a sad smile stretching her lips when she realized how you were leaning into her touch.

“Are you hungry?” She eventually asked, and you opened your eyes, a bit surprised by the sudden question. You blink, twice, unable to give the woman a verbal answer — But she doesn’t need one. She is perfectly aware of why you came downstairs, and she doesn’t need to use her mind-reading abilities to know that, already aware of how you have been refusing to eat anything for the past few days. “Good,” she whispered, careful with her words. She couldn’t risk you shutting down, again. “Because I was cooking, but did way too much for one person,” she explained, smiling.

It is a lie, and you both are aware of that. 

It is past midnight, and the woman was probably just looking for some water. She definitely wasn’t cooking, and is probably not even hungry, but she knows that this innocent lie would help you to feel less guilty. The woman knows how stubborn you can be, and how you would probably have refused if she had proposed to cook you a meal, scared of wasting her time. Yet, she couldn’t let you go back to your room with only a snack. You need energy, if you want to get back on your feet as soon as possible.

“Come here,” she said when you hesitantly nodded, “let me help you,” she added, and you didn’t protest when the woman wrapped her arms around you — Her embrace was soft, and comforting. 

“I got you,” she whispered in your mind, “everything will be fine now,” and, this time, the words felt true. It has been a long time since you felt as safe as you did in the Witch’s arms, the woman being the only one who has never treated you differently, or hated you for what happened years ago. She was the hope that things could work out. 

THE END. —

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @liasxeatt, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.