#kindergarten x stars and time au

[timegarten-au]

i don't think I posted this. anyway billy isa

[stars-artacc]

kg isat au kiddfrin doodles throughout all the acts

[smileysuh]

comfort cuisine

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

Prologue

“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”

“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”

“It’s not-”

“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”

The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.

Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.

You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen. 

You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained. 

Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-

“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”

“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”

“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”

Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”

You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

One

Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.

On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her. 

“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.

Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”

“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head.  “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”

“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.

“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”

Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’

When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-

“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.

“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”

“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes. 

“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”

“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”

Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments. 

Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.

“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”

“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”

“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.

“Speaking of-”

“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.

“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”

“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.

“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”

“That’s a great idea!”

“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”

He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant. 

When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”

“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”

“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”

“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”

“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes. 

“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”

“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”

The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had. 

“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down. 

“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.

“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”

Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.

“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”

“Hey!” Johnny laughs.

“I’ll consider it,” you grin.

“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”

“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.

“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”

There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line. 

“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”

And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.

Two

You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early. 

Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.

Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”

“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”

“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“That bad, huh?” he asks.

“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan. 

“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”

“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.

“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”

You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies. 

“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.

“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”

“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”

You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green. 

You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.

He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.

“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”

“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”

“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”

“A hundred percent.” 

“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”

“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”

“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”

“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”

“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.

“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.

“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.

“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods. 

“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”

“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.” 

“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.

Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”

Three

Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter. 

He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.

“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”

“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter. 

“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.

The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite. 

The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.

But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.

“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”

“Like what?”

“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”

“That could work,” Johnny nods. 

“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask. 

Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.

You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.

In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.

“What about oats?” you suggest. 

“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.

Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.

“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”

“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.

As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings- 

“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”

“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”

Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”

“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin. 

Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.

But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.

Four

“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.

“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”

“Shoot.”

“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”

“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”

“Really? You sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”

A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.

Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.

While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.

She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.

When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.

Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.

“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”

He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”

You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”

“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”

“Can y/n stay longer?”

Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”

“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”

“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.

Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands. 

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

Five

It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different. 

What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.

“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”

“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”

“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl. 

“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”

Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment. 

“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.

“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”

Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”

“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”

Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”

“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.

“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”

“What made you finally give it a try?”

“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”

“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”

“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”

Six

Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy. 

Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.

While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance. 

Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.

As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture. 

In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.

The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.

On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her. 

Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud. 

As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.

Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.

You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.

Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.

Seven

Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.

“Hey, you,” you answer.

“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”

There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”

“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”

“Not so hot actually.”

Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”

“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”

“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”

“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”

Eight

“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”

You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”

“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.

“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.

“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.

“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.” 

“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.

His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles. 

“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.

“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”

“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”

“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”

“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.

You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”

Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”

“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”

“I think I love you.”

“Huh?” you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”

“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”

“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”

“Doyoung, for one.”

“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”

“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”

“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”

“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”

“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”

“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”

“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.

“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.” 

His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.

“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”

Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.

His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.

His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.

“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.

“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.

“You’re drunk,” you say finally.

“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”

“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”

“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.

“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”

Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”

“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”

“You’re right,” Johnny concedes. 

“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”

“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.

“Uh huh.”

“Will you stay in my bed with me?”

“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”

Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”

Nine

Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-

He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.

After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.

Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.

It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.

“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.

God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.

“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.

“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.

“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.” 

Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”

“Good!” 

You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.  

“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”

“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”

“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”

“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.

“When’s Soonie come home?”

Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”

“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”

“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”

You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.

“How are you feeling about last night?��� Johnny asks.

“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”

“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own. 

God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Take me out on a date,” you say.

“Hmm?”

“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”

“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”

Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you. 

Ten

It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.

He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.

When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”

“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins. 

“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”

“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”

“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”

Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.

The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.

“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.

“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs. 

“Look at you being all cocky.”

“You love it.”

He’s so right.

The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.

Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?” 

Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.

“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”

You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?” 

“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”

Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it. 

Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.

It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.

You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.

Johnny releases a sleepy groan.

You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Hi,” you respond lightly.

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”

Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.

“More than okay with it.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.

His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.

You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.

“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.

“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.

Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.

His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.

Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.

You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes. 

Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.

Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.

His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him. 

You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. 

Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more. 

Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh. 

He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.

“You’re already so wet,” he muses.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.

“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.

Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”

“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?

He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion. 

It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?

Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.

Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”

Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.

Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you. 

“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.

Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.

“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”

“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”

“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.

Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”

A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.

“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.

From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.

It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.

Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”

You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.

“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.” 

Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.

You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.

The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.

Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.

Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.

You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”

“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”

“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.

You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp. 

He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”

As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.

Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.

“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”

“If you say so, honey.”

The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.

Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.

Although, would this be called fucking?

The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.

“Johnny?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”

“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”

Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock. 

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.

“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.” 

Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.

“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”

“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”

“Where should I cum?”

“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”

He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.

You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.

“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”

“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.

“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.

You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-

“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”

Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.

Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.

The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.

You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close. 

“I love you,” he tells you again.

You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”

Epilogue

The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.

“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.

Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.

He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.

“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.

“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.

“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”

“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.

Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.

“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.

“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.

“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”

“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.

“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”

Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?

Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.

“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)

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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.

It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.

Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.

“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.

“Customers?” you suggest.

“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.

“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.

He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.

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[blackynsupremacy]

A GLAMOROUS LIFE

boys with small talk and small minds

really don't impress me in bed

she said, "i need a man's man, baby"

diamonds and furs

love would only conquer my head

pairing: nicholas chavez x black!fem!reader

also starring: cooper koch and normani as valerie

summary: it’s the year 1987. you and your best friend, valerie, are rising college graduates and are part of one of the most affluent african american families of the decade. yachts, handsome yuppies, and diamonds, and grand soirées all sound like a ball, but to you, it’s so predictable. especially when it comes to dating. your not-so-friendly personality underneath all of that designer tends to be men repellent, until this one double date valerie sets up with a renowned tennis player and promising law student shifts your entire perspective.

inspo: fresh prince of bel-air, 1x19. cred to @fear-is-truth for the idea of an 80s au.

contains: lots of words, eighties au, reader is a bit toxic, yuppie culture, swearing, rudeness, alcohol consumption, arguing, nicholas gets reader together, enemies to lovers, fluff.

tags: @sabrinasopposite @supaprettyg @camiesully @zombigrlll @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl

“valerie, for the love of god, don’t make me go on this date. i swear on daddy’s credit card that i can get you backstage passes for the bad tour. hell, i’ll even let you get with michael if it would change your mind. just please don’t make go on this double date.”

you groan and plead while watching your best friend since birth, valerie hill, primp herself at her pristine, white vanity for a night on the town. she had a date with this tennis player named, cooper koch. apparently he was so talented in the sport, that he was well on his way to the olympics within the next year. valerie mentioned that he was bringing his friend, nicholas. she didn’t really ask about him, what he did, nor if you were down for the double date, so you were practically forced into this. you both were the heiresses of the richest black families in the nation, so going out on dates to the most exclusive and expensive restaurants with the richest bachelors were the norm for you both. for you, the norm was getting so damn predictable. all of the guys you’ve dated in the past only care about two things: getting paid and getting laid. it was enjoyable at first, but as you grew older, you realized that life shouldn’t just be about drugs, money, and sex, it should have some sort of substance, some depth, some purpose. these guys never challenged you. they talk a big game with their cars and lavish spending, but it’s all a load of materialistic bullshit. each time you give them a chance, it’s like you want to put a combination lock on your pussy and forget the numbers. that’s the energy you give out: cold, distant, snarky, rude, anything to get these yuppie ass wannabe’s out of your face.

but here you were, already showered and clad in a cream satin robe with curlers in your hair. valerie was the popular one out of you both. besides studying to take over the family business, she was a model. her face would be on commercials, billboards, and magazines. it’s no wonder why she had a line of men begging to breathe the same oxygen as her. you were studying business as well and in your free time, you would compose new masterpieces on the grand piano you were gifted when you were fifteen after perfecting the instrument since kindergarten. even with the pressure of performances, recitals, and competitions, you grew to love writing a new piece in different styles. your idols consisted of stevie wonder and quincy jones. your parents never really knew, but you were so lucky to have valerie be a support system for your passion.

your inner turmoil was interrupted at the ring of valerie’s telephone to which she picked up and answered with the customary “hello”. your brown eyes peer at her figure as your ears tune into the conversation she’s having.

“hello?… oh, hey, cooper!…uh-huh. yeah, i can’t wait either…oh, is he? well, she’s definitely looking forward to meeting him.” valerie pauses to cut her eyes at you, in which you respond with the rolling of your own.

“okay…yes, three eighty five willard lane is correct. i’ve already told the guard at the gate your names, so just give it to him and you should be good to go. thirty minutes? okay…see you then! ciao for now!” valerie blows a kiss to the receiver with a smile on her made up face and hangs the phone up. she turns to you with those alluring deep, brown eyes that’s captivated so many hearts. with a huff of her breath, she stands up from the vanity stool and saunters over to you, donning a long hot pink sleeveless evening dress that hugged her body just right. it was cut low with diamond straps paired with matching pink opera gloves and an assortment of genuine diamond jewelry that was adorned on her ears, fingers, neck, and wrists. you feel her palms on your shoulders and she gives you a knowing glance.

“i know that you’ve been burned before, but for some odd reason, i got a feeling down in my gut that this guy is exactly what you’ve been looking for. if he’s not what you expect within an hour, we can go home.”

“no bullshit?” you questioned with an arched brow.

“no bullshit, but please try not to have that stank ass attitude at dinner tonight, y/n!”

“i might bullshit on that, valerie. you know when i hear something stupid, my attitude can’t help it. i’ll try for you though! not my best, but i’ll try.”

you retort with a smirk and release yourself from a giggling valerie. you take the last thirty minutes to get ready. you don your white, shimmery strapless evening dress with matching fingerless opera gloves. you perfect your hair and makeup to your liking. to say you looked beautiful tonight was an understatement. you bashfully receive the encouraging compliments from valerie in which you reciprocate the kindness. there’s a knock on the bedroom door and valerie opens it to reveal one of the maids, letting you know that there are two gentlemen in the foyer waiting. your stomach starts to rumble with dread, but then it serves to your memory that you only have to give this man an hour of your time if he’s not up to par, so fuck it, just get it over with.

“ah, shit. is it too late to take back what i said about michael jackson?” you curse under your breath, rolling your eyes slightly.

valerie nudges you playfully, her excitement buzzing in the air, but still some annoyance towards your irritability. “girl, don’t start. they just got here, damn! you’ll never know, you might end up diggin’ on him when the night is over. now haul ass!”

you suck your teeth and quietly retort, “diggin’ my ass.”

you grab your fur boas and designer clutch handbags. valerie takes the lead and you exit her bedroom to descend down the marble staircase of the hill manor. you keep your head down to watch your step, but then you hear a male voice circulating in the room.

“wow, you guys look absolutely stunning. the talk around town certainly don’t do you ladies any justice. pardon my language, but i’d tell those shit-heads to eat every word.”

“oh, my. why, thank you, cooper! you didn’t have to get the flowers, you know.” valerie responds with an elated smile.

you look up to see two handsome, strapping young men in finely tailored suits with one of their hands casually stuffed in the pocket and each with a bouquet of red roses in the other. they were caucasian and stood tall in the six foot one range with dark brown hair. one had curly hair, the other straight. one had brown eyes, the other had green. as valerie scurries down the rest of the stairs to greet the curly haired green eyed suitor with an embrace and peck to his cheeks to graciously receive her roses, you were still a bit reluctant to move any further down the staircase. you swallowed and you slowly follow her path, your sweaty palm smooths your dress down your waist before approaching the man with the scrutinizing, yet amicable brown gaze. you’ve been all too familiar with this look before. that’s how they ease you in. to keep your end of the bargain, you simply flash your award winning smile when he guides the bouquet in your direction with a casual grin on his lips.

“i’m nicholas. nicholas chavez. you must be valerie’s friend—uh, y/n l/n, right? i have to say i agree with cooper here. you look absolutely gorgeous and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. these are for you. may i?” he greets with such an air of politeness. well, all of the guys have to with their background before they show their true colors.

“roses? cute. original. sure.” you somewhat dryly respond. you thanked him and took the bouquet in one hand and gave your free hand to his for him to place his lips on the back, your stomach fluttered and your cheeks heated when his eyes nor lips didn’t pull away from you for a second. you pull your hand back before things got too awkward. after valerie calls the maid to put the flowers in a vase of water, she’s already walking out the door on cooper’s arm, leaving you and nicholas standing alone in the foyer. he turns his large frame to yours and juts his elbow out towards you,

“shall we? we don’t want to lose the reservation.” he quips with a smirk. so insufferable! typical yuppie. with a tight lipped grin, you nod and your hand circles around his—bulging bicep. well, fuck! nicholas was indeed jacked. you don’t let the tingles of your lower region let your guard down though.

“mm-hmm. i guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” you and him step out into the starlit evening and you stop noticing two cars, one red ferrari f40 and a black chevrolet corvette. wait a fucking minute. why the hell are there two cars? you could’ve sworn that valerie said that all four of you were taking a limousine. nicholas led you to the ferrari, while cooper led valerie to the corvette. before they could go any further, you took your hand from nicholas’ arm and called out valerie’s name in a faux friendly tone and smile.

“i apologize, fellas, but valerie, a word?” you hastily ask cutting your eyes to your best friend that protested by standing closer to cooper.

“but, y/n, we’re gonna be la—” you cut her short by taking her hand and scurrying a few feet from your dates, so they couldn’t hear your griping.

“valerie, you sneaky ass skank! you told me we were taking a limo. you ain’t said nothing about going in two separate cars! what the fuck are you trying to do!?” you hiss in a whispered tone, you were hotter than a firecracker. dumbfounded, your best friend responds with a shrug and glanced over to the confused men, sending them a wave with an embarrassed smile before shifting her focus back to you.

“girl, i didn’t know either. i guess cooper changed his mind about it before he left! i’m not mad about it though. this is our chance to get to know them one on one. i might even get lucky tonight, honey! besides, i don’t need you to scare off your and my date. ride with nicholas and don’t be fucking rude. just give him an hour. you promised.”

“not exactly.” you deadpanned.

“y/n!” she hissed in the lowest, yet sharpest warning tone.

“ugh. fine, i’ll ride with him. i’ll be—civil.”

“perfect. now let’s get our fine asses wined and dined.”

you both hurriedly walked back nicholas and cooper. like the gentlemen they were, they opened the passenger doors for you and valerie to enter their respective vehicles and buckle up. cooper and nicholas agreed to having cooper lead the way to the restaurant while nicholas followed behind. once they entered the driver’s seats, you four made your journey. you and nicholas didn’t ride in complete silence. the radio was filling the car with phil collins’ “in the air tonight” faintly in the background. nicholas eyes glanced over to your figure briefly. you sat in the passenger seat, one hand in your lap, the other propped up on the door as you looked out at the glistening city lights through the window, not uttering a single word. you seemed so cold. was it something he did? something he said? what he said earlier wasn’t really bullshit though. nicholas has encountered his share of women who were forgettable after a night of passion, but he honest to god thought that you were a breathtakingly beautiful woman with the world at her fingertips. he’d think you’d share the same sentiment as he did, but given your bored expression, perhaps not. he took the opportunity to turn the volume knob to the left to make room for small talk. nicholas clears his throat as he slightly grips the steering wheel, his eyes focusing on the road as he trails behind cooper.

“so, uh, tell me, y/n. cooper has told me that you and valerie are studying business. i assume that’s going well.”

you sigh at hearing the “b” word. it felt like such a curse. your head hurts at the very mention. you muster up an answer that’s right to the point.

“yeah, i better be or i’ll bring the greatest shame to the l/n family, so i suggest you shouldn’t assume, nicholas.” you retort dryly, gazing at your rose red manicured nails. nicholas felt a twinge of a tingling pain in his stomach. it’s almost eighty degrees out, but it just got to thirty in here. talk about a cold shoulder.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to pry or make you uncomfortable. i was just trying to make conversation considering it’s a da—” you cut him short.

“i know how a date works, man. what are you? a prosecutor trying to present to me the evidence of exhibit obvious?”

“matter of fact, i am, well— studying to be. i’m in the pre-law and criminology program at my university. just like you, it’s in my bloodline.”

“oh, well. i guess it’s a change from all the guys i’ve met. they’re always waiting for their folks to kick the bucket or step down, so they could inherit a position of power that’s worth twenty years of work, but get it because they were born. they’ll spend a shit load of money and the body’s not even cold yet.”

“woah—wow. i’ve never seen it in that perspective, especially not from an heiress like yourself.” nicholas’ brows furrowed and he exasperatedly whistled.

“wow indeed, nicholas. it’s a goddamn shame. what the hell does me being an heiress got to do with it, huh?” you quiz defensively, cutting your eyes to the male. nicholas takes a deep breath and combats with a firm and calm voice,

“hey, there’s no need to get defensive, y/n. i’m just saying most people from families like ours don’t typically share the same thought as you nor care—i believe it’s an interesting perspective, not a bad one, so i don’t blame you for believing that money could easily sway someone’s morals.”

“hm.” that’s all you could respond with and you returned your gaze to the window sitting in deep thought. who the hell did nicholas chavez think he was? why isn’t he combating you with the benefits of all that luxury? did this man just—sympathize with you? something was definitely up with nicholas and not to mention, you were being a bit of a bitch towards him and he was still holding a civil conversation with you. there had to be a narcissistic, egotistical bratty yuppie prick underneath that calm and collected gentleman-like demeanor. you had a scheme: you were gonna push that limit to make sure that asshole makes an appearance at that restaurant.

the guys smoothly pull up to the entrance where the security and valet are standing. they get out of their cars to open the doors for you and valerie before handing their keys and a handsome tip to the valet to get their cars parked. you gazed up at the illuminating skyscraper of the restaurant before you. THE OPULENT HAVEN flashed itself so vibrantly in the city that even the stars had some competition. it was hypnotic to say the least. you stop your gawking when you feel a large palm rest itself on the small of your spine. your brown eyes lean up to see the familiar pair of nicholas’, a grin playing across his chiseled face.

“i take it by the way you’re staring that this is your first time here. breathtaking, isn’t it?” he softly whispers in awe with a matching expression towards the structure. you inwardly groan as your stomach does that thing again. here he goes with this fake prince charming, nice guy act. who was he to assume that you haven’t been here? you’re y/n fucking l/n for god’s sake! oh, who the hell were you kidding? this was your first time at this place and it looked like a palace. you didn’t want to let him know that though. he’s probably been here a thousand times with a myriad of women. you never forgot your scheme to release the animal within him, so you smirk with a quirked brow in his direction before you shot back in the same whispered voice,

“and who are you to assume that i haven’t been here? it just looks very elegant, nothing more. you’re acting as if i’m a damn tourist to these kinds of establishments.”

“it’s not my intention to assume, y/n. i’ve just noticed that you could see and appreciate the beauty in this building like i do. if it makes you feel any better, this is just my second time around. you don’t have to be so guarded, you know? now, let’s get inside before our party leaves us behind. after you.” he gives you a once over to the see through revolving doors where cooper and valerie are standing at the hostess’ station awaiting your arrival.

“whatever.” you grumble under your breath, rolling your eyes.

“i beg your pardon?”

“nothing—let’s just get inside.”

with a silent nod and his hand still on your back, he takes the lead for you to meet with the other two. the hostess guides you all to your table and it wasn’t long before a waiter arrived. cooper takes the initiative to request the restaurant’s finest merlot, water, shrimp cocktails, and pâté as the starting course of the evening. when the server returns again, you all agree to settle on the main course of the beef wellington and lobster thermidor, and topping it off with the crème brûlée. cooper and valerie start to break the ice with everyone at the table. you sat with your eyes down at your purse and courtly spoke whenever spoken to without getting caught peering at the ticking clock every once in a while. who knew that a fucking hour would take a lifetime? it also didn’t help that when valerie was in her own world with her precious koch boy, nicholas tried every way possible to get you to open up and with every attempt, you respond to him with such a snarky and dismissive attitude. valerie tries her best to paint you as a decent human being to the best of her ability because she really likes cooper and the last thing she needed is you scaring him off because you’re pissed at her.

“so, nicholas! do you like music? y/n sure does. i bet you didn’t know that she’s very talented at the grand piano and has been doing performances and competitions when we coming up! she even dabbles in a bit of composing.” valerie chimed, gesturing her gloved hand in your direction like you were an exhibit on display.

“yeah, i love music and that’s actually really cool, y/n. how long have you been playing for?”

“since i was five. you’re about to be a top shit lawyer, right? you do the math and get the facts.” you retort as you take a sip of wine. valerie rolls her eyes and hisses your name as cooper places a hand on hers. his forest eyes giving her the reassuring look of “let it go”. cooper knew exactly what you were doing and as his best friend, he knew that nicholas’ politeness could only be pushed so far, they all just had to wait and see it all come to a head. after your response, you noticed how nicholas clenched his jaw, cleared his throat, and his composed expression returns with a tight lipped smile. what is this guy’s deal? where’s his backbone? he’s just like the rest of these sorry ass yuppie motherfuckers.

“shot in the dark, here. seventeen years?”

“ding, ding, ding! we got a winner!” you sarcastically cheered with a toast of your wine glass.

“that’s impressive. you must be really passionate about it. what type of styles do you typically play? classical? baroque? romantic? maybe jazz?” he leans back casually in his seat awaiting your answer. you were quite surprised that a pre-law student had such a knowledge in that area.

“anything that sounds good to my ears.” you announce with an air of confidence and shrug your shoulders. there was no utterance of a thank you, not nothing. you were gonna make sure this plan to expose him for who he truly is doesn’t all go to hell. it was pissing you off that with every brash comment you made, he would kill you with cordiality.

it was pissing you off so much that even the server was catching stray bullets from you.

“excuse me, would you tell whoever the hell prepared this dish to please remake this? there’s no way this was right because i’ve had better at a fucking cheesecake factory.” the server stood with such timidity and tried plead their case on behalf of the chef.

“ma’am, we understand your concern, but i assure that the head chef has made it—“

“wait a minute, you’re telling me this is the work of your head chef? well, i guess it’s time for him to head back to culinary school because this is fucking terrible. this is ALL terrible!” your voice rose with frustration as you throw your lap cloth down on the table like a child having a tantrum and stood from your chair with your arms firmly crossed. all you could think was fuck this restaurant, fuck this date, fuck valerie, and fuck nicholas for foiling your plan. before you could bitch and berate any further, nicholas also stood up from his chair. “wait, nicholas, don’t—”, valerie tried to open her mouth to protest and deescalate the situation, but cooper gently grabbed her wrist, shaking his head to let valerie know that nicholas had this. she just needed to watch. he was composed, but he held a perfect posture with his chest was puffed up, he kept his hands flat at his side, and he looked at you with such contempt, such disappointment, before his baritone voice dominated the room.

“no, valerie, this is not okay. i’m sorry, but i’ve got to get this off my chest.” he paused. his serious, deep gaze not pulling from your curious eyes before he resumes speaking, “y/n, your behavior this whole night was completely inappropriate and unacceptable. i’m not exactly sure what your problem is with me, but i’ve done nothing, but try to be civil. i don’t know what type of guy you may think i am, but where i come from, manners and decorum count a lot wherever and to whoever, so i can’t just sit back and let your nasty, smart-ass attitude continue. you owe every single one of us an apology, especially to that poor server. now, if you refuse, we’ll take you back home and continue the night without you. do i make myself clear?”

you stood there silently, still trying to keep your guard up, but the muscles of your crossed arms loosened. the furrow of your perfectly arched brows softened and a small smile crept on your painted lips while you listen to nicholas chavez set you, y/n l/n, in her rightful place. he was respectfully getting you all the way together and boy, did you get such a titillating rush from how he was so assertive yet, still had that integrity. he was exactly the type of man you’ve been craving for in your circle. the type of man that wasn’t afraid to stand up for what’s right no matter how many times he’s given the benefit of the doubt. he’d make one hell of a lawyer. it was like you were seeing stars when his eyes bore into yours, awaiting an answer. you were so stuck in staring at him, his colossal frame stepped forward to be in closer proximity to yours. the warm chocolate hue of his pupils turn darker as they continue to stare down into your own. nicholas takes the opportunity to repeat his question with an added firmness, considering he didn’t get an answer the first time.

“y/n, do i make myself clear?”

you swallow.

“yes, nicholas.”

you were so entrapped in his softening gaze when you gave in. valerie sat in awe and confusion as she witnessed you humbly apologize to everyone for your behavior, including the server and the night went on pleasantly. plus, you decided to give nicholas more than an hour, you decided to give him a chance. there was something about him that had some potential you craved to see more of. you weren’t always the one to get second dates, but as you attentively indulge in amicable conversation with him, you’d hope you were redeemed enough to get that chance to see nicholas again. alone. although you hated him less, he was still a fine specimen of a man. he gave you a sense of warmth. that warm feeling didn’t leave when he drove you home after dinner. it didn’t leave when he walked you to the door. it sure as hell didn’t leave when he bid you a sweet goodnight with another lingering kiss to your hand. the image of his beautifully sculpted countenance burned deep within your brain. nicholas was even the type of guy that made sure you entered your home first before disappearing into the night. a regular yuppie asshole would speed off as soon as you closed his car door. your heart pounded within your chest as you stared at the ceiling while immersed in your satin rose duvet. every single shitty word you’ve ever said and every judgmental thought you’ve had towards nicholas alexander chavez was immediately transformed into immense respect and burning desire.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule: II

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: don’t do tag list my loves. Thank u for showing love to this fic, and also! Leave a comment and reblog

Masterlist, Latibule I

“Who’s that handsome man, dear?” Your elderly neighbor asked you as she peeked over your shoulder to look at the man who just wouldn’t tell you his name. He was trailing behind you, his face showing his apparent displeasure at having to wake up early in the morning. He detested the sun and he glared at the sky like it did him dirty. Who the fuck was sane enough to wake up at five in the morning?

Definitely not him.

You crinkled your nose at your neighbor. Handsome? Sure he was. But his grumpy attitude annoyed you and it did outweigh his good looks. You didn’t even know why you agreed on him staying- not that he asked. Yet when you inquired if he was in danger and he nodded his head, you agreed without another thought.

You wouldn’t turn away someone who was seeking solace.

You knew what it was like.

Additionally, it was as though you didn’t even have a roommate. What you seemed to have acquired was your very own shadow who just wouldn’t leave you alone. In his defense though, he was trying to have a read on you. It didn’t make sense to him that you were living alone. Yoongi wasn’t blind. He could see that you were an attractive woman who somehow had peculiar habits.

Like walking at night in the dark. Or looking at the stars every night without fail. Or the fact that you hadn’t kicked him out despite his unpleasant attitude.

Which you were seriously considering right now.

The man looked at you with brows raised as though anticipating how you would explain his existence in your life to which you merely rolled your eyes and smiled at him with contempt.

“That’s-“ you started as you gestured at him with your arms full of groceries that he never even offered to lift himself, “That’s a full-time problem and the human form of nuisance.”

You offered her a kind smile as she blinked in confusion at what you said. Meanwhile, he looked affronted by what you said.

Him? A nuisance? A full-time problem?

His enemies had insulted him less than you did and they all ended up getting tortured. Yet you had the audacity and courage to call him names that belonged to kindergarten.

Your neighbor frowned, confusion glinting in her eyes. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m afraid I heard you incorrectly.”

“Oh, I said he’s an extremely problemati-“

“Hi, ahjumma,” he walked closer to the two of you, his face painted with a charming smile as he extended his hand to her. Suddenly, he was a different person. This two-faced asshole, you thought to yourself. “I’m her-“

“-problem,” you whispered behind him.

“-her cousi-“

“-her nuisance,” you mumbled behind him once again.

“I’m her first love and I’m here to marry her,” he said with a grin so wide you could see his adorable gummy smile.

Wait. What?

Adorable?

First love?

Marry????

You turned your head so abruptly that your hair whipped on his face as soon as the two of you arrived at your home. You got into his space, your now empty hands pushing him against the door. He couldn’t even defend himself because you forced him to carry the groceries because he should be a good as fuck boyfriend. Yoongi gulped when he met your eyes filled with storm. And strangely, he felt his heart skipped a beat. It never did that- not when he was staring at the barrel of his enemies’ gun, not when he was looking at the chief of police, not when he was literally dying outside your house. Never.

But now that he was looking at your eyes, it strangely skipped a beat. It wasn’t as though he didn’t spend majority of his time observing you, or watching you wander in the dark at night, or following you out in the shadows when you took your evening walks. However, he never really spent time really looking into your eyes. It was only now that he realized your forehead had little sparse of faded wounds.

He tilted his head in perplexity. You were hurt. You were hurt so deep it left a scar…like his.

“What the fuck was that?!” You hissed at the nameless man. You looked up to glare at him only to find him putting the carrot in between the two of you as though in defense. “Did you hit your head during the accident? No, right? So why then did you spew out the worst lie ever known to mankind?!”

He gulped when you stepped closer to him. For someone so small, you sure did have a lot of anger in you. “I merely adjusted to what happened accordingly because what you were about to say would sound suspicious!” He replied in defense, the pack of sugar joining the raised carrot as an added barricade to your anger.

“I was about to say you were my cousin!”

“No. I clearly heard you said I am your problem.”

You nodded, seeing no issue in that. “That, too. A cousin and a problem!”

“Well, now I’m your boyfriend.”

“Fake.”

“Yup,” he agreed with a pop before smiling at you innocently. “Telling her that I’m merely a cousin will be a complication that I do not fucking need. For starters, I look nothing like you.”

You squinted your eyes at him, “Is that an insult?”

He nodded without hesitating. “Yes. Obviously. For starters, I’m prettier than you. Have you seen your skin? Have you seen how white and smooth my skin is?”

Taking the deepest breath known to mankind, you sighed before going straight to your kitchen. “Yes, fine,” you shouted in a deadpanned voice, having enough of this man’s incredulous statement. “You have a good skin. White skin. In fact, your skin is too fair that your name is now Suga.”

His face darkened as soon as you renamed him. He was stalking to the kitchen without any thought ready to fight you. “You will not call me Suga! You do not-“

“Shut your mouth and slice these carrots!”

Yoongi couldn’t sleep. He had always been a light sleeper. Or maybe, he just suffered from insomnia that he was used to staying up all night. Or also, maybe it was because the littlest sound could set him off just like now. These were all why he found it peculiar how he was able to sleep peacefully, albeit injured and fighting for his goddamn life, in your bed a few weeks back. God, he missed sleeping in your bed. The sofa sucked. And he hated it with a vengeance.

He watched you from the sofa he had made his bed. You were walking in the dark once again. Seriously, how difficult was it to turn on the light? Were you that considerate to walk around blindly in the dark just to not wake him up?

He watched you with his feline eyes, following your every movement. You made it seemed that you already memorized every turns in this house, and maybe you did. Yet what you didn’t anticipate was the chair he failed to return at the rightful place and with that, you fell to the ground.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you rubbed you forearm that took the most and painful hit. You almost jumped when light flooded the small living room with Yoongi looking unimpressed as he stood near the switch, his dark hair swept back from his face. From the looks of it, it did not seem like you disturbed his sleep.

“You do know we have electricity, right?” His deep voice asked in a mocking tone. “You know how to turn this on, right? If not I can teach you. You just press this gently or not, depends on your mood, really,” he explained like you were a child, even going so far as conducting a demonstration.

You glared up at him so hard from your position on the floor, wishing that your irritation at him could somehow turn into weapon and disintegrate him. “I know we have electricity because I pay for it!”

He smiled indulgently at you as he nodded his head, “And I thank you for your service. Now,” he trailed off as he walked to you, crouching down and resting his arms on his spread knees. “Does it hurt?”

“Nothing hurts more than looking at you,” you snapped back as he inspected your forearm without asking.

He hummed in agreement. He raised his dark brow when he saw the redness forming on your skin, “I know. It’s because my beauty shines too bright.”

You looked heavenward and groaned at his audacity. You were starting to question what you did wrong in this lifetime that you were burdened with this full-time problem. “What are you doing up at this hour, angel?”

“I was thirsty.”

He rolled his eyes before he unceremoniously pulled you up with him. But then…he was too close. He was so close that your front brushed up against his. So close that you could feel the heat emitting from his body. You spent the first week trying to keep him alive and after that, you spent it regretting your choice.

You really hadn’t looked at him for quite some time now. But now, this close and you could see him- all his perfections and imperfections. This close and you could see how he could looked so menacing, could see the lingering madness in his eyes and the swirling darkness in him.

And then you wondered how he came to be who he was. You wondered what made a man such as him to keep so much anger in him.

And while you were busy analyzing him, he was consumed by you. Notwithstanding his unparalleled intelligence, he did not, for the life of him, take his time to analyze why having you in his proximity calmed the demons in him.

He didn’t take his time to wonder why touching you calmed him. And instead, he opened his mouth to spew out another nonsense to you.

“You’re looking at me like you wish I’m your real fiancée,” he stated in a teasing way. His hand snaked on the small of your back, pulling you abruptly closer to his front. He was smirking as he leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear. “You wish I was yours, don’t you?”

To which, you kicked his shin and stalked to your room, uncaring of his pained hiss. You locked the door for good measure.

It wasn’t much of a surprise that you woke up hours later with parched throat. Sighing, you opened your bedside lamp only to find a glass of water.

D-did that asshole put it there?

Latibule III

[teamatsumu]

good enough.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x reader

Word count: 2,578

✎ Soulmate AU, Angst, Hurt comfort

You had always been a meek child. And it shocked everyone you would meet.

It had a lot to do with the fact that your parents were both extremely outgoing. They were loud, adventurous types who loved trying new things. It wasn't difficult to see how they were soulmates. They were practically cut from the same cloth. But you, you often made people lose the plot. You didn't act like your parents' daughter at all.

You had always been very shy. It had taken you forever to make friends in daycare, and even longer once you entered kindergarten. Kids were too loud and too messy. So you preferred to keep to yourself. The few friends you had were because someone else would take you 'under their wing' somehow.

You got better as you grew up, though you could still technically be considered an introvert. You hated that word. Hated how limiting it was and how it put you into a box. You weren't an introvert. You had friends that you loved hanging out with and spending time with. You didn't prefer being alone. You loved companionship.

You just didn't think you were interesting enough to deserve it.

So you stayed in your little circle of dedicated friends, girls you had met as a little kid and stuck by all through elementary and middle school. But towards the end of middle school, something happened that changed your life forever.

You met your soulmate.

Well, 'met' was a strong word. You saw him, from afar. You laid eyes on him, felt that electricity shoot up inside you, the mantra of 'soulmate, soulmate, soulmate' repeating in your head. It was the same pattern of feelings you were told your whole life that you would feel. Down to every last detail. Yet your brain couldn't accept it. You couldn't believe the obvious signals your body was sending you. It just couldn't be.

Your soulmate was…… Oikawa Tooru?

The Oikawa Tooru. Kitagawa Daiichi's star setter. The best player their school had seen so far. You had seen him while he was receiving the award for best setter. When your eyes had settled on him for more than 5 seconds, signaling to your body that you were looking directly at your soulmate. You were frozen in your spot, obscured in the crowd of students seated for the ceremony. Watching as Oikawa accepted his medal and his shield. The center of attention, the smile on his face bright and warm.

You in the bleachers, clapping mechanically, no different from anyone around you. Blending into your surroundings like you had your entire life.

It took you many, many weeks to get used to the idea that Oikawa Tooru was your soulmate. Your other half. It just didn't sit well with you. You had seen soulmate couples your entire life, including your parents. People with similar tastes, more or less matching personalities, so in love and so in sync.

You and Oikawa were worlds apart.

He had a gentle charm to him, easy going smile and bright, bright brown eyes, hair so casually wind swept, the color of warm chestnut. He was tall, lean, enough to command a room the second he entered it. It almost seemed like he had a spotlight on him at all times. As you watched him from afar, cracking jokes and laughing loud, annoying his friends and greeting his fans, you realized just how different you two were.

You were, in every sense of the word, average. You weren't confident, but you could speak your mind when you wanted. You weren't ugly, but you weren't exactly a head turner. You were so….. mediocre. Especially compared to someone as rare and wonderful as Oikawa Tooru. There's no way you could match up to him.

You didn't deserve him. And more importantly, he deserved so much better than you.

You never dared mention to anyone that you knew who your soulmate was. Your friends would hound you forever and your parents would be flabbergasted that you didn't tell him yet. You didn't have it in yourself to explain to them why you didn't. It made sense in your head, but you had enough awareness to know that other people would say it's utter bullshit. You didn't want to deal with that. Someday, Oikawa would give up on finding his soulmate and settle down with someone else. Someone who could fit into his shiny, busy world. All you had to do till then was stay out of the way. This was for Oikawa's own good.

You knew fate was testing you when you unintentionally ended up at the same high school as Oikawa. You had nearly done a double take when you saw him in the halls, talking to that spiky haired boy he was friends with, basking in the admiring looks of multiple girls that walked past him and waved at him. It made you sigh. It's like every time you saw him, you were reminded how much better he was than you. And all it did was strengthen your resolve to stay miles away from him.

You managed to successfully avoid Oikawa for many months, which wasn't hard considering your straightforward routine. You didn't like leaving class for no reason. You had lunch at your desk. You weren't part of any clubs so you would go straight home afterwards. Also owing to the fact that Oikawa appeared to be the busiest person in the world, it made your life much easier.

You should've known it wouldn't last long. It seemed the entire universe was conspiring to get you closer to Oikawa. And the universe had sent Matsukawa Issei to do the job.

Matsukawa was in the same class as you. He sat next to you in the back row and dosed off during most of the lessons. You thought he was incredibly amusing. Especially when he would sneak food into his mouth during classes and try to chew it without the teacher noticing that his mouth was moving. When you would try to hide your grin, he would wink at you and offer you food too, and both of you would munch on it while you waited for lessons to be over. He was very laid back and easy going, yet had a lot of confidence. In an ideal world where you weren't so anxious, you liked to think you would be a lot like him.

You never would've dreamed that someone so naturally lazy would actually be part of a sports club. Especially not volleyball. The thought never crossed your mind. Had you known, you wouldn't have touched him with a ten foot pole. But you made it a point to stay as far away from Oikawa and volleyball as possible, so you didn't know. Big mistake.

The midday sun was beating on your head as you stood waiting at the school gate. You tried leaning against the wall but the brick was burning up, making you yelp and jump away. You scowled at your phone, staring at Matsukawa's name before hitting Call. He picked up after only two beeps.

"Y/N-?"

"Where the hell are you, Issei? I'm getting cooked in this heat!" You whined, feeling your scowl deepen. You watched students bustle out of the gate, eager to get home and away from the sun. There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Matsukawa spoke again.

"Oh shit."

You groaned out loud at the words, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Issei, I need those notes! We have a quiz tomorrow and you promised me you would give them back after school."

You could hear Matsukawa panting on the other end, making your eyebrows furrow. Was he running?

"Listen, Y/N. I left my bag at the gym. The team is out on a run right now and I think we will be back in maybe ten minutes? Why don't you go wait at the gym and I'll give it to you when I come-"

"Wait," you cut him off. "What gym? What are you talking about?"

More huffing. "Oh yeah, you don't know. I'm in the volleyball club. Go wait for me at the gym."

You stilled, blinking once, before the implication of his words sank in and panic gripped your chest. "No, no, wait! I can't go there. I'll wait for you at the gate and you can just come give it to me-"

"Coach won't let me leave the gym during practice time. What's the big deal? It'll take two minutes-"

"No Issei!" You cut him off, feeling cornered. "Keep the notebook. I'll get it from you tomorrow."

"But what about the qui-"

You hung up.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute, thoughts racing. That was so close. So close. You had unintentionally become friends with Oikawa's teammate. And you had no clue. Panic gripped you as you realized what this meant. At any given time, Oikawa could've seen you. He could've walked into your classroom to talk to Issei about something and laid eyes on you. Then he would've known.

The walk home was shaky and disorienting. You felt frustrated with yourself at this game you were playing. Trying to stay away from the boy this universe was begging you to be with. Someone your heart also desperately wanted, but your insecure, anxious brain was constantly yelling at you to stay away from.

He's too good. His future is too bright. You'll ruin him.

You were so tired.

The quiz ended up being pretty easy, considering the fact that you didn't study for it at all and spent most of your evening crying, then watching some shitty comedy on Netflix that didn't make you laugh at all, going through your snack drawer like an madwoman and finally falling asleep, where brown eyes plagued you in your dreams for the rest of the night. You thanked the gods that you had nothing good to do in your life and hence spent most of your time studying. It meant you did pretty well on your test despite doing nothing to prepare for it.

If there was one thing about you that was way above average, it was your brain.

Issei was looking at you weirdly throughout the day, and he finally spoke up at lunch, something you had been dreading.

"You wanna tell me what the hell that was yesterday?" He crossed his arms, staring at you so hard you were afraid he could take a peek into your soul.

"What the hell was what." You deadpanned, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be daft. You nearly had a panic attack when I told you to come meet me at the volleyball gym."

You cringed at the word 'volleyball', sighing deeply. "I just didn't want to make the extra trip, it was really hot outside-"

You stopped talking when Matsukawa abruptly sat up, eyes narrowed at you. "You're bullshitting me. Tell me the truth."

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "I am telling you the-"

"I'll drag the entire volleyball team here if I have to." He drawled, a challenge in his voice. "You freaked me out yesterday. And it has something to do with my club. So tell me, or I'll find out somehow."

You felt your heart race. Dammit. You couldn't think of anything else. You couldn't think of a lie to placate him. And as you stared into his dark eyes, you knew you had lost.

Matsukawa Issei became the first person to know who your soulmate was.

He had dragged you out of the class after lunch break. There had been too much to unpack in that short amount of time. You hid behind the school overlooking the grounds, telling Matsukawa everything, like word vomit that you couldn't stop. You realized as you talked just how desperate you were to tell someone about all this. You had kept it in for so long that just saying it all out loud seemed to lighten your load.

A thick blanket of silence fell on you two when you finished, nearly out of breath. You watched Matsukawa intently as he stared out at the grounds, one leg pulled up to his torso and resting his arm on his knee. He sighed heavily, running a hand across his face.

"For someone who gets the best grades in our class, you have got to be the dumbest person I have ever met."

You blinked at his words, shocked. "Huh?"

He scowled deeply at you, shocking you even more. He looked almost angry.

"You think you know better than the universe? You think you're smarter than fate?" He raised his voice, looking pissed. "How can you think the gods were wrong when they paired you with Oikawa? And to make this huge decision, without even considering how Oikawa might feel-"

"How dare you." Your voice trembled, feeling tears prick at your lash line. "All I did was consider how Oikawa might feel. I put my own feelings aside-"

"What the hell makes you think this is what Oikawa wants?" Matsukawa raised his voice even more, nearly swelling up in frustration. "You don't know him. You don't know if he wants you. You can't make this decision for him!"

You reeled at his words, blinking your tears away furiously. What the hell was Issei implying? That Oikawa could actually make any alternative choice? It couldn't be. Why would he want you?

Issei's face was softening, watching the emotions flit over your face.

"Y/N," he continued. "You're my friend. I'd like to think I know you. And from what I've seen, I guarantee you that there is not one thing about you that Oikawa won't like."

"But I-" You drew in a trembling breath. "We're so different."

Issei snorted and shrugged. "Trust me, he needs that. Or his head would get too big for his own body to carry."

You two stayed silent for a bit, letting Issei's words wash over you like a cold shower after a hot day. Your heart was screaming at you to believe him, but your mind wouldn't let up. You heard him sigh and stand up, stretching his arms above his head. How long had you been out here anyway? It felt like hours. Was school over? What time was it?

"Alright, let's go." You snapped out of your thoughts at his words, blinking owlishly up at him.

"Go where?"

He didn't answer, waving your question off like he was swatting a fly before he grabbed your arm and pulled you up to your feet, not giving you a moment to breathe as he led you away.

"Issei-"

"Shut up. I've heard enough outta you." He didn't look back at you. You felt a sting of indignation, falling into silence and letting him drag you. You felt so burnt out.

You only tuned back into the present when you heard the squeaks and thuds on hardwood floors, tensing up when Issei climbed the three small stairs leading to the open volleyball gym doors. He tugged your arm when he realized you had stopped, turning to look at you. He gave you a soft look, almost pleading.

"He deserves this. Please."

You felt your shoulders slump in acceptance, mind stilling and slowing in its tirade of thoughts. With one last deep breath, you stepped inside.

Let me know what you think!

[byeomtori]

the only exception | beomgyu x reader

pairing: beomgyu x female reader

content: love at first sight au, summer love thingy, lots of reference to paramore's the only exception and txt's our summer, pda

tw: mentions of fight and blood

words count: 12k

notes: reposting because of high demand (lol)

preview:

you were not the type to believe in the existence of love. to you, there was no such a thing as true love; no such a thing as unwavering, unbreakable, and unparalleled fondness and devotion for someone. to you, people love to get something they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents were a living prove of that

the day you were old enough to understand the lack of love and affection between your parents to each other, and to you; you swore to never grow that feeling to anyone — family, friends, partner. anyone. because to you, love did not exist.

you were content living that way for years, not happy, but content.

the absence of love in your life protected you from attachment, heartbreak, sorrow — those negative emotions that you deemed unnecessary and unworthy to be sitting inside of you.

life was okay without love, you thought.

until you had to spend the rest of your summer with a distant relative whom you've never met in your entire life, in a small town with an ocean view, where fate had brought you a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky.

and maybe, just maybe, love does exist.

a comforting smell of freshly brewed chamomile tea wafting in the air as you make your way inside the unfamiliar home — the one you will be spending three months in because your parents are way too busy flying around across the globe to be taking care of you.

"come on in, y/n." the woman in front of you speaks, her voice soft, the type of voice a kindergarten teacher would have.

maybe she was one, you have no idea. in fact, you know nothing about the woman standing in a yellow dress in front of you. she is pretty, even though it is evident her aging is slowly creeping up to her from the way her skin wrinkles on the corner of her eyes when she smiles. but to you, she is pretty- the mother-like kind of pretty. the kind of pretty that makes you feel warm inside.

but again, you know nothing about her. have never seen her in your entire life. never even heard her name from any of your parents until today.

aunty sue.

that was the name your mom had told you in the car this morning when she was dropping you off at the train station, she couldn't even make some time to drive you straight here, and telling you the woman is a distant cousin of hers whom she hasn't met in a long time. and that was also the name the said woman had introduced herself to you.

"do you want some tea, honey? or anything else?" she asks, making her way into the kitchen as you trail behind her like a little lost puppy.

"tea is fine," you reply.

leaning against the kitchen counter, you roam your eyes around the room. some parts of the walls are painted in pastel green while another part is decorated with a plaid wallpaper with the same color — just a shade darker. the counter tops are full of kitchen appliances, cookbooks, sunflower patterned dishes, and freshly washed vegetables along with some other things. there are random little trinkets on the windowsill — a wooden carved statue of a cat, a line of herbs in old tomato cans, and a sun catcher being hung at the corner of the window making tiny little rainbows refracting inside the kitchen.

the furniture of the dining area does not match with each other — one wooden chair with a striking blue cushion, a yellow wicker chair and another two plastic chairs in white. though everything is mismatch, it doesn't look weird. it feels right, even.

it feels like home.

very different from your house where nothing is ever out of place. the countertops made of slick white marble, picked personally by your mother, are always shiny as if no one has ever touched it. truthfully speaking, they kind of are. no one is ever cooking in that kitchen. you bet the only stains that has dirtied that counter was that one time you spilled your morning coffee on it. the stove, it looks brand new compared to the one in front of you right now which looks like it has been in service for more than a decade with how rusty it looks.

everything in your house is perfect to the tee. a façade that is what you like to think — to mask the family's imperfections.

a house that never felt like a home.

"i'm going to keep my stuff in my room first, i'll be right back," you say as you pull your luggage with you.

"sure, honey. your room is the second door on the right."

honey.

not even your own mother has ever called you that.

you haul your bag with much difficulty up the stairs, cursing yourself mentally for overpacking, before making your way to the said door. the room is spacious, not as big as your own room back in the city, but still enough to fit a queen-sized bed in the middle, a study desk by the window and a two doors wardrobe in the corner.

the glass sliding doors that lead to the balcony are being left slightly open, the warm summer breeze blowing the white sheer curtain. leaving your luggage by the bed, you make your way over to the balcony — pushing open the sliding door wider as you step out into the outdoor.

to say you are astonished is an understatement. the view in front of you is breath-taking — the house is located on top of the hill, overlooking the neighborhood and the ocean, the season's bright sunlight is making the scenery even more spectacular.

you breath in the air, inhaling the smell of the blue sea with your eyes closed.

there is someone, other than aunty sue, downstairs — you can clearly hear the sound of a male voice which is a little bit too loud to be ignored, talking to the woman in the kitchen about how his mom had forced him to deliver cake to all the houses up the hill in the middle of the day.

"y/n, honey! are you done? come downstairs, please." opening your eyes, you let out a soft sigh as you walk back inside, keeping your eyes on the ocean outside as you close the glass doors.

it's okay, you have the whole three months here. you tell yourself as you make your way back into the kitchen, the guest is still going on about how his little rant.

"i mean, don't get me wrong. i love summer, but to deliver all of them under the sun? god i felt like-.." and as he turns to face you who is standing at the entrance of the kitchen, your breath hitch in your throat.

you're not sure is it the iridescent illumination from the sun catcher beaming on him, or the glow of his skin that is glistening with sweats from biking under the summer rays, or the sparks in his eyes as he stares at you;

but oh god, he is beautiful.

not pretty, but beautiful. the angel-like kind of beautiful. the kind of beautiful that would make people turn their heads. the kind of beautiful that would make you steal glances at him if you were to sit in front of him in a train. the kind of beautiful that makes the ocean view you saw earlier lose its' price.

the once in a lifetime kind of beautiful.

"y/n, this is beomgyu, his mom owns a bakery down the hill."

"oh, this is the girl that you've been telling me about!" he says excitedly as he makes his way over to you, "she's pretty."

and you almost choked on your saliva. how can he be saying things like that so casually?!

"hi, i'm choi beomgyu," he says, extending out his hand for a handshake. "aunty sue told me a lot about you so i'm kind of excited to be your friend, that is if you want, of course."

you look down to his hand, lifting your own as you slowly put it in his. "im y/n,"

though it feels rough, his hand still holds a certain kind of warmth that makes you feel secured. you can feel calluses on his fingertips, too. does he play the guitar?

you're not even sure why you feel bashful under his gaze. you don't understand the warm fuzzy feeling you're getting when he keeps his hand in yours. you don't get why your heart is beating so fast when he says your name, the syllabus rolling perfectly on his tongue like it was made for him and only him to say.

"well then, i look forward to hanging out with you, y/n."

the conscious side of your brain is already blaring an alarm, telling you to turn him down, telling you that no, you don't want to hang out with him. that no, you don't look forward to spending your summer with him.

but despite that, you find yourself nodding to his words. "me too, choi beomgyu."

it has been three days since you have first arrived, and you have concluded that choi beomgyu is a man of his words.

you didn't think much when he told you that he looks forward to hanging out with you, thinking that he was just being nice to a newcomer and to act friendly to you.

because that's all you have ever known — people acting nicely to you.

you remember when you used to associate in a group of girls back in middle school; it was one of the worst times of your life. eleven years old you were so naïve (read: stupid) to realize that those girls were just using you for your unlimited amount of cash — always inviting you to go shopping, forcing you to throw fancy sleepovers — until one day one of them literally had to scream in your face that they were only hanging out with you for your daddy's money.

and since then, you have never tried to befriend anyone and those around you never approached or asked you to hang out, either.

so, it is a surprise to you that choi beomgyu stays true to his words.

yesterday, he had come over early in the morning looking as beautiful as you had remembered the first time you saw him; asking you if you want a little tour of the small town. you had declined, telling him you still had a few things left to unpack, leaving the boy pouting. you had felt slightly bad, just slightly.

you are in the backyard with aunty sue, picking up some ripe tomatoes from the small garden. she told you she has been tending this small part of her backyard for almost seven years now, planting

various kinds of vegetables, using the excuse of she doesn’t like the ones sold in the market, when in reality she just really loves gardening and watching her plants come to live day by day.

“is the tomato that interesting to you?”

you jump in surprise as you hear a low voice speaking next to your ear. turning around, you find a grinning beomgyu looking down at you. he peeks under your straw hat, trying to have a better look at

your face. “you look like a tomato yourself.”

you frown, “what do you mean by that?!”

he bends, hands resting on his knees, now being eye to eye level with you. humming, he continues to study your face.

there is always something about him that never fails to make blood rush to your face. yesterday it was the way he dressed — white sleeveless top tucked messily inside his black jeans. it was simple, nothing outstanding about it but to you, he was breath-taking. and today; it’s the way he’s looking deep into your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with every blink.

the rational part of you is telling you to push him aside or to move away, to break the eye contact. but the other part that you have no idea existed inside of you until you met him few days ago, is telling you to keep staring into his sparkling eyes, to play along to whatever little game he has put on.

the rational part of you won as you take a step back, creating a safe distance between your figure and his. you can feel your cheeks flushed, fully blaming it on the warm temperature as you had been

standing under the sun for quite a while now.

“your cheeks are so red, like a tomato.” he giggles, “are you hot?”

you look away from him, hiding your face under your hat as you whisper, “k-kinda…”

he was about to move closer to you again, hand reaching over to your hat, but it stops mid-air when aunty sue is calling over for the both of you. thanking the lord and savior, you quickly make an escape

from him as you walk over to where your aunty is standing with a plate full of freshly cut watermelon in hand.

you sit beside her on the porch, while beomgyu is standing right in front of you. “tell your mom i say thank you for the watermelon,” aunty sue says and the boy just hums, hand reaching down to pick up two pieces of the sliced fruit, handing one over to you.

you thank him quietly and he smiles down at you, “you will never find a watermelon as sweet and juicy as the ones that my grandfather planted.” he boasts, and aunty sue make a sound as what sounds

like she is agreeing with him. “that’s right, mr.choi planted the best watermelon in the country.”

the scorching heat of the sun calls for you to take a bite of the fruit – it is sweet, just like what beomgyu had said. “it’s so good,” you speak under your breath. you’re not sure how he manages to hear what

you said but he did, as the smile on his face grow wider. “right? i told you!”

he waits for you to finish the slice in your hand before handing you another one, all the while still towering in front of you.

“sit down, beomgyu.” your aunty says to him to which the boy just shakes his head. “i’m protecting y/n from the sun,” he replies casually, taking a bite of the watermelon “she looks like a real tomato

right now.”

both you and aunty sue look up to him in sync. he is, indeed, covering you away from the sun — being tall makes it easier for him to shield you away from the direct sunlight of the summer rays but his back

is taking up all the consequences of his action as you can see droplets of sweat forming on of his neck, sliding down to his back.

you glance to aunty sue, a coy smile on her lips. “j-just sit down!” you scold him, pulling him down by his wrist to sit beside you on the wooden veranda.

aunty sue giggles, “talking about tomato, do you want to bring some home, beomgyu?”

he shakes his head, “thanks, aunty sue but no one in that house enjoys eating tomato.”

“but i do want to ask for your permission to steal this cute tomato away from you for the night,” he says as he pokes your cheek with his index finger to which you move slightly away. “my friends are doing a bonfire by the cliff later, i was thinking to bring y/n along.”

you hesitate, gaze moving from his face to your aunty’s. “you can go, y/n. it’s much more fun to hang out with people your age rather than spending time with me,” she ensures you.

you look back to beomgyu, his eyes hopeful as he waits for your answer.

“okay, then.” you finally give in, a wide smile making its’ way across his face.

he stands up, one hand in the pocket of his pants as he bends down to look at your face, again.

“see you tonight then, tomato.”

one conclusion you can come up after spending a good half an hour with choi beomgyu is that he does not have a sense of personal space — not that you mind, at least for now when you are surrounded by unfamiliar teenagers laughing and chattering around the bonfire.

you’ve been stuck to his side since the moment you reached the cliff. it’s not like you are that comfortable with him but out of everyone here, he is the only person you know. despite that, choi beomgyu looks like he is that comfortable with you — hand on the small of your back while walking, wrapping his flannel around your waist so that you won’t get your shorts dirty (when in reality he just doesn’t like the way the other boys are looking at the exposed skin of your legs), sitting too close you can feel his shoulder brushing against yours as he moves.

truthfully, you would have been so annoyed. but this is choi beomgyu. he is choi beomgyu and you have no idea what’s about him that makes you feel so protected. even now when he has his hand on top of your right knee while he’s talking to his friends, you don’t feel irritated.

it feels right. he feels right.

“beomgyu!” someone calls him over from behind. he sighs, “i’m gonna go talk to him for a while, you’ll be alright here, right?” he asks to which you just nod your head.

what is he expecting you to say answer? no, don’t leave me, beomgyu. as if you would ever say that out loud.

the warmth of his palm leaves your skin as he gets up, making his way over to the blue-haired boy that was calling for him. your let your eyes linger on him, watching as he gives the guy a fist bump before

both of their gaze move to you and you quickly look away.

“you’re y/n, right?” a guy who is sitting in front of you speaks.

you nod, “hueningkai, right?” you ask, remembering his name after beomgyu had introduced you to him earlier. and you glad you did from the way his eyes lit up when you get his name right. years of

attending charity events and parties where you were forced to talk to random people by your parents has thought you to imprint people’s names on your mind easily.

“heard you’re from the city. how is the life there? i really want to live there someday, it’s really boring here,” he pouts. “the nearest mall is like, miles away.”

“i think it’s fun here,”

“yeah? and why is that?”

you go quiet for a moment. why is that? — there are various reasons why you think the town is not as boring as hueningkai believes. for an example, the ocean. there is no beach in the city, the nearest one being a whole hour drive away. the air here is cleaner too, not as polluted with vehicles smokes as the city. the weather here is nice too; though it’s summer, the heat here isn’t as bad as it is back

home.

and as your mind try to come up with another reason why you think the town is fun, your eyes move over to the brown-haired boy laughing along to whatever joke the blue-haired one has said to him.

even in the darkness of the night — the only source of light coming from the fire in front of you, he is still beautiful. the way he throws his head back as he laughs, the way his eyes are sparkling under the

night sky, the dimple that appears on his cheek as he smiles.

“it’s fun because there’s beomgyu, right?”

you turn your attention to the boy sitting across from you, his eyes on the same person you were staring few seconds ago.

“do you like him?” hueningkai asks, out of sudden.

“w-what?” you look at him, bewildered. “i don’t know what context of like you are talking about, but he is a good fr-…”

friend.

you so badly wanted to call beomgyu your friend, but you don’t even have the slightest idea of what a friend is — you never had one, at least not a real one. all through your school years, you have never

really had someone you can call as friend. sure, you talked to your classmates, but they felt more like acquaintances than friends. and you never bothered to get close to anyone because you know there

are always something they want in return — money, gifts, invitations to fancy parties, rich kids from your family’s circle to date, the list goes on.

so, you stop yourself from labelling beomgyu in that way. he is not your friend, not after only three days of knowing each other.

“he is a good guy, of course i like him. what kind of person doesn’t like good people?” you say, shifting in your seat to which hueningkai just shrugs his shoulders, “i think he likes yo-…” he stops talking midsentence when someone throws their arm around his neck, holding him in a chokehold.

“taehyun is calling for you,” beomgyu says as he smiles down wickedly at the younger. hueningkai knows his friend is lying but he just rolls his eyes and walks away to where taehyun is sitting.

“let’s go somewhere,” he extends his hand over to you.

“where?”

beomgyu grumbles, “just come.” taking your hand, he pulls you up to your feet.

following him from behind, you have no idea where he is taking you as you both walk further and further away from the group, until you’re climbing down the cliff.

he offers his hand to you, and you gladly accept, “be careful.”

holding your hand in his, he wraps his arm around your waist as he pulls you down to the ground with an ease. the night is pretty chilly compared to the sunlit afternoon earlier, but beomgyu’s hand still

hold a certain kind of warmth. and even though the temperature is low, you still can feel heat rushing up to your face when he keeps his arm around your waist even after you’ve set your feet safely on the

sandy beach — you’re glad it is dark, you don’t think you want him coming up with another vegetable related nickname for you.

“i wanted to bring you here yesterday, but you were busy unpacking. and i wanted to do it today too, but you looked so tired from helping aunty sue,” he says. “i know this is not the best time to be coming

here since it’s so dark but i just thought maybe you would want to see the ocean at night too.”

you move your gaze from his face to the moana in front of you. the water is calm, small waves crashing along the shores. no one else is around, only you and him.

you were about to walk over to the water’s edge when you feel beomgyu tugs on your hand gently. “take off your shoes first, pretty girl.” bending down, he wraps his hand around your ankle before

slowly pulling the white alexander mcqueen off of your foot. beomgyu is surprised, to be honest, to the fact that you casually wear a very expensive pair of sneakers to a lame bonfire party. then again,

these shoes probably didn’t cost that much for you.

“all done, you can go now.” he stands up straight again and he can’t help but notice the pink shade decorating your cheeks even in the inky night, “tomato.” he chuckles, pinching your left cheek.

you gently swat his hand away, blushing deeper, before walking to the water again. you smile as you feel the sand seeps through your toes as the waves crash on the shore. turning around to beomgyu, you see him with a soft smile in his face as he watches you from a distance.

“join me,”

and he can’t seem to decline your offer when you’re looking so ethereal underneath the moonlight, a gentle smile on your lips as you move your feet around to play with the wet sand.

abandoning his cheap pair of sneakers beside your expensive ones, he runs over to where you’re standing back facing him. he pretends to push you further to the ocean to which you react faster, shoving him — making him fall into the water with a big splash.

“hey!” he shrieks, quickly getting up on his feet. you take that as a sign for you to run — in which you didn’t manage to escape far enough when you feel his arms circling around your waist before he pulls you down along with him into the water.

“beomgyu!” you whine while splashing more of the salty water towards him while giggling.

and that night, while you both are walking home, soaked from head to toes with your wet clothes sticking disgustingly on your skin, laughing and giggling, you thought; maybe this is what friendship feels like.

“aunty sue, i’m going out for a while!” you call out your aunt in the kitchen as you’re running down the stairs toward the front door.

she peeks her head from the kitchen’s entrance, “where are you going, honey?”

“beomgyu’s mom’s bakery!” you reply, already stepping outside and you failed to catch the tender smile your aunt is throwing your way as you are busy putting on your shoes. “i’ll be back before dinner.”

when you push open the gate of the house, beomgyu is already waiting for you on his bicycle, a hat in his hand as he offers it over to you. “put it on, it’s too sunny.”

you accept with no question, putting the white hat on. it smells like him — like a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters. it smells like summer.

he smells like summer.

beomgyu watches as you put his hat on, holding back his smile to how adorable you look trying to tighten the hat’s straps to fit your head’s size. his hand reaches over to your face, tucking a few strands

of your hair that have come loose from your braids behind your ear. “pretty,” he whispers under his breath.

you look away from his eyes, quickly moving to sit on the backseat of his bicycle, wincing as the exposed skin of your thighs come in contact with the burning metal of the seat.

“sorry, chieko has been out in the sun for a while,” he says, referring to his bike. “you good?”

“yeah,” you shift on the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “you name your bicycle with a dog’s name?”

he hums as he starts paddling, “my grandfather got this bicycle from a japanese owned shop. the owner used to have this really cute golden retriever by the name chieko, i loved him, hence the name.”

he explains, “is it weird?”

“kinda,” you reply to which he just laugh it off.

it has only been a week of summer break and beomgyu had come up with so many plans for the both of you. he has promised to make this, as quoted from the man himself, the best summer of your life

— to which you just responded with a raised eyebrow. you don’t mind spending the whole three months of break with him, you don’t mind at all. in fact, you would really like the idea — but he doesn’t

have to know that.

one of the plans he had come up with is; baking. and that is how you find yourself in the back of his mom’s bakery, with a baby pink apron tied around your waist and beomgyu going around in the

kitchen looking for the ingredients for the fruit strudels he had promise to make with you.

“oh, you must be y/n.”

you turn to the source of the voice, and you quickly bow your head, “ah, yeah. nice to meet you.” the woman in front of you have the same dimple as the one on beomgyu’s, and the way she smiles warmly remind you of her son too.

“you’re really pretty, just like what beomgyu had told me.”

“mom, where’s the peach?” he asks, stopping his mom from exposing him further, as he is rummaging inside the fruit basket on the counter.

the woman giggles, “is our beomgyu shy? is he embarrassed if his mom is going to tell the pretty girl all about the things he had talked about her?” she continues, emphasizing on the pretty girl.

you look over to him and notice how his ears has turned slightly red from his mom’s teasing. you’re not sure why he is acting that way when he has called you with that specific nickname so many times

already.

“mom~” he whines, all the while avoiding your eyes that are fixated on him.

his mom lets out a loud laugh — now you know where beomgyu got that from — as she walks over to the fridge behind you. “i keep them in the here, baby.”

“oh,” he says, taking the peaches from his mom’s hand. “thank you, my lady.” he leans down and kiss his mom’s temple to which his mom playfully pushes him away. the gesture tugs a string in your heart

— a feeling of longing. you can’t remember when was the last time you hugged your mom, or your dad. heck, you can’t even remember when was the last time they asked you about your day.

“have fun baking, y/n. i’m only a shout away if you need something, okay? in case beomgyu burns the kitchen down,” she jokes again before walking out to store again.

beomgyu sighs, “sorry about her. she can be a bit… overbearing sometimes.”

“no, she’s fun.” you says, stepping closer to help him with the fresh fruits.

and that’s how you spent your thursday morning; baking various fruits strudels — peach, strawberry, mango, blueberry. well, it was beomgyu who did most of the work but nevertheless, you had fun

cutting up the fresh fruits.

the oven digs, indicating the pastries have been baked. beomgyu pulls the tray out, before setting it on the flour-covered counter. “oh, it smells amazing!” you exclaim excitedly.

“wait until you taste them, they are,” he looks down at you, making a chef’s kiss gesture to which you just giggle. “well, we have to let them cool down first before putting the cream and the fruits. wanna

go up to my room while we wait?”

you hesitate, never ever in your life have you ever stepped a foot in a boy’s room. despite that, you find yourself nodding to him, “sure.”

he nods, taking off his apron and waits for you to take yours off before snatching it from your hands, hanging them on the hook by the fridge.

following him up to his room which is located at the second floor just right above the bakery, you notice the picture frames decorating the wall going up the stairs. family portraits, baby pictures of

whom you assume are beomgyu and his brother, wedding pictures of his parents, a picture of beomgyu’s kindergarten graduation. it’s like the family’s own little hall of fame.

imagining your house in your mind, you don’t think you have any other picture being hung on the wall aside from that one huge family portrait in the living room — the one where you were looking so rigid

sitting in between your parents. you hated that picture, and you still do. family portraits are supposed to be a symbol of happiness, a symbol of affection, a symbol of a healthy family relationship but your family does not have any of that. the picture that was taken in the fancy film studio in france was just another attempt to cover the family’s despair. it’s pathetic, really. how hard your parents are trying

to come off as a happy married couple with a perfect daughter. throwing the money away for material things that can cover up the lack of happiness in the household. it’s pitiful, the only thing they need to be raising a happy family is the one thing that they lack in life.

a loud chirping at your right as you step onto the landing of the second-floor surprises you. you turn your head to look at the green-colored parrot in the cage. it has its’ head tilted as it stares up at your

unfamiliar face.

“this is toto, my pet.”

“your pet?”

he nods.

“out of all the animals you can have as a pet, you chose a parrot?”

he shrugs, “toto is everyone’s best friend in this house.”

you blink, and he does too.

“oh, okay.” you say and he nods. “come, my room is this way.” he leads you over to the door that has a messy scribble of ‘choi beomgyu’ in colorful crayons, opening it for you and urging you to take step inside. “after you.”

his room is surprisingly neat. well, it’s not like you have seen a guy’s room before but you did assume beomgyu to be a little messy kind of person — the usual clothes on the floor, comic books scattered

on the bed, snacks wrappers on the desk. but his room is clean, no used clothes on the floor, only a round foldable table in the middle of the room.

“how long are we supposed to wait for the pastries to cool down?” you ask, taking a seat on the floor by the desk. “around half an hour,” he replies. “you know what other baked goods i’m really good at?”

you shake your head, “tell me.”

“pumpkin spice cupcake, but we don’t have any in the store now. it’s not autumn yet so finding for pumpkin is quite hard this time of the year.” he explains.

“how am i supposed to have a taste then?”

“that means you have to come here again during autumn,” he says. “i’ll bake every autumn desserts for you. beside, don’t you want to see my pretty face in a different season too?”

you grimace, “what difference does your face make in autumn?”

he laughs before reaching over to his guitar that was leaning against the wall beside the door.

so, he does play the guitar.

“do you want to hear a snippet of the song i wrote?” he asks while tuning his guitar.

“you wrote songs?”

“yeah, for fun though. i’ve never really let anyone listen to it, aside from the guys.”

“sure,” you say, holding in your excitement.

“i wrote this a few days ago, it’s not finished yet but i’ll try to give my best.” he gives you a smile before he starts strumming his guitar strings softly.

and when you thought choi beomgyu is already beautiful from the way he smiles, from the way his eyes twinkle under the summer sunshine, from the way his whisker dimples form on his cheeks when

he laughs — here he is giving you another reason to think that he is the most heavenly person you have ever came across when he opens his mouth to sing.

your fresh fragrance, your sparkling eyes

makes me feel better

reality loses its power, even the earth dies

the moment is eternal

you’re not sure is it the way the sunlight shining through the open window or the way his eyes are fixated on you while he sings, but you can feel the blood rushing to your face, leaving your cheeks feeling so warm.

no matter where you are, no matter what season

if we’re together, feel like summer

“this is getting boring.” says hueningkai as he throws the uno cards on to the floor before plopping on his back on the ground.

“agree, we should be doing something else.” taehyun, who has been scrolling on his phone since half an hour ago finally spoke.

beomgyu, with his four other friends along with a few others are sprawled out in choi yeonjun’s basement. they’ve been doing everything that they deem fun to do in the last four hours — the video games, board games, card games, truth or dare (in which beomgyu had successfully dodged every single question and dare related to you).

“let’s hit the diner, i’m kind of starving,” one of yeonjun’s friends, minho, suggest to which the other boys agree without any objections.

“nah man, i’ll pass for tonight.” beomgyu says, already standing up from his seat, “think i’m going to go home and sleep.”

“really, sleep?” minho asks, smirking up to beomgyu. “or are you going to see that girl, what’s her name again? y/n?”

beomgyu raises his eyebrow, “what does y/n got to do with this?”

sensing the shift in the air, soobin quickly nudges minho in the rib. “hey, shut your mouth.” says the older.

“i don’t know, beomgyu?” the blondie continues, “i barely see you hang out with your friends lately. every time i ask them where’s beomgyu, their answers were always the same; hanging out with y/n.” he pushes his tongue against his cheeks, clearly enjoying how extremely annoyed beomgyu looks.

“you don’t even have time for your friends anymore now? why? too busy fucking that little rich bit-…” and the next thing beomgyu knows is he is on top of the guy, throwing punches across the blondie’s

face as both soobin and yeonjun try to pull him away.

“don’t you fucking dare say that word.” he yells out loudly, throwing another blow on minho’s cheek.

minho forcefully pushes beomgyu, making the latter falls on his back as the blonde-haired boy climbs on top of him, punching him on the corner of his lips before yeonjun had to (literally) throw hands

towards minho to make him stop punching his younger friend.

there’s a loud ringing in beomgyu’s ears, his head spinning.

he was never one to resort to violence when it comes to anything. aside from that one time he accidentally kicked a girl in elementary school while trying to show off his hapkido skills, beomgyu has never hurt anyone physically. but there is something about the way your name rolls on minho’s tongue that make him sick to the core.

he gets on his feet after regaining his vision again, blood trickling down from his lips. he gives his friends one last glance before running up the stairs of the basement, slamming the door loudly as he walks out.

wiping his bloody lips with the sleeve of his hoodie, he curses under his breath, thinking he can’t go home with bruised lips and blood stains on his hoodie — his mom would make a big deal about it.

so, he continues walking — passes the front of the bakery, up the hill. feet moving according to where his heart wants him to go. to find comfort.

and it wasn’t a surprise to him as he stops in front of your aunty’s house, looking up to the second floor where your room is. the lights are out, total darkness surrounding your room. of course, it’s half

passed midnight, of course you will be sleeping by now.

beomgyu is not sure why did he came here. it’s not like he wants you to see him in this state — bruised lips, fresh blood still oozing from the cut, tousled hair, red stains on the sleeve of his yellow hoodie.

no, he doesn’t want you to see him looking this miserable. he was just trying to look for comfort, and to him, his comfort comes in the shape of a girl in an oversized blue t-shirt standing across from him.

“you scare me!” he says as he finds your figure standing in front of the gate of the house.

“what are you doing out here?” you ask.

“what are you doing out here?”

you cross your arms on your chest, “i saw you from the window.” though the only source of light shining on him comes from the dingy lamppost above him, you’re still able to make out his busted lips.

stepping over to him, you gently take his face in your hands. at that moment, beomgyu knows coming here to actually see you wasn’t a bad idea when he can feel the heat from your palms engulfing his cheeks.

he wanted solace and apparently you are his.

“what happened to you?” you ask softly, afraid that if you raise your voice any higher it might hurt him.'

“i fell…” he says, “for you.”

you take your hands off his cheek, slapping his arm to which he jokingly winces in pain. “how could you slap me when i’m already this wounded?” he pouts, “i did fell, okay? i tripped while coming up

here. the hill can be pretty steep sometimes.”

“you’ve been going up and down this hill your whole life, how can you suddenly fell today out of nowhere?”

“i don’t know? people make mistakes, y/n.”

you roll your eyes, “come on, i’ll clean it up for you.”

beomgyu didn’t hesitate to follow you into the house, up the stairs and into your bedroom. you lead him over to the bathroom, trying not to make too much noise and waking up your aunt in the room

right across from yours— you don’t think she would appreciate you bringing a boy into the house in the middle of the night, and the last thing you want is her thinking there’s something passionate going

around between you and the baker’s son.

taking his face in one hand gently, you blow onto his cut. “it’s going to sting a little, okay?” he hums, enjoying the cool breeze from you on his open wound.

he watches you tentatively as you dab the antiseptic on his skin. “does it hurt?” you ask to which he just shakes his head no. “okay. phew, this is kinda scary.” you giggle as you lean closer to his face again, your nose a few inches away from his.

beomgyu roams his eyes all over your face — your eyes, your nose, and your lips. he observes the way your long eyelashes flutters against your soft cheeks with every blink you make. the way your pupils dilate as you are so focused on attending his busted lips. the way your nose scrunches up occasionally when he lets out a low groan of pain. the way your lips are pull into a pout while you’re busy nagging to him.

even under the ugly fluorescent light of the bathroom, with you wearing the most basic clothes — no fancy summer dresses, or blouses, or expensive sneakers – with your hair messily being put up into a bun, face free from any kind of make-up, to choi beomgyu; you are the most beautiful.

and in the daze of post-punched and being in your presence, he lets the words slip out of his mouth.

“you are so fucking beautiful, y/n.”

the saying of time flies when you’re having fun is actually true. days have turned into weeks, and weeks have turned into months — it’s already been two months since you first arrived in this small

town with the ocean view.

the past months have been filled with many new things you’ve never experienced in your life — going hiking to see the sunrise with beomgyu, harvesting vegetables and herbs with aunty sue, helping

beomgyu’s mom in the bakery, binge eating snacks at the convenience store past midnight with beomgyu and his friends, barbecue party with the townspeople.

and the most precious thing you’ve encountered during this summer break is friendship — not only with beomgyu, but his friends too. you’ve come to get comfortable with yeonjun, soobin, taehyun and

hueningkai along the way after spending time with them. beomgyu had brought you along to hang out with them a few times, and you had grown to enjoy the boys’ company, too.

and beomgyu has stay true to his words about making this summer the best three months break of your life.

“you look pretty already,” aunty sue says behind you as you’re busy fixing the strands of your hair framing your face.

turning to look at her, you pout. “i’m not.”

“beomgyu thinks you are.”

you blush, looking into the mirror to avoid your aunt’s teasing eyes. “i’m done, let’s go.”

“you’re not going with beomgyu?” she asks as the both of you are walking down the hill, a rattan basket in your hand.

“he said he’ll meet me there,” you explain. “he has to help his mom with the bakery booth.”

“ah, right. i forgot about that.”

another new thing you get to experience in this small town is their annual summer festival. aunty sue had told you that the town’s mayor came up with the idea of making the festival around a decade ago

in an attempt to give some sort of entertainment for the kids and teenagers, and also the adults, in the town during the season. it was a great success the first year it was being held — with more than

thirty booths of various foods and games. hence, why the summer festival has become the town’s annual event now.

as you reach the festival’s venue which is being held by the beach, you see soobin and yeonjun chattering at a booth near the entrance. you hand aunty sue the basket before excusing yourself to talk to the boys.

“yeonjun! soobin!” you call out, running up towards them. “oooh, y/n! you look so cute!” soobin exclaims excitedly as you stop in front of him. “but not as cute as choi odi, though.”

“choi odi?” you question and the boy nods “my pet.”

“a cat?”

“no, a hedgehog.”

you grimace — what’s with this group of friends and their weird animals as pet?

“what? you don’t think hedgehogs are cute?” he asks.

no, they look like rat — is what you wanted to say but you don’t have the heart to voice those words out from the look soobin is giving you. “yeah, they are… not bad.” you say before moving your gaze

away from him.

yeonjun notices the way your eyes are scanning around for the familiar mob of brown hair in the sea of visitors, and he chuckles. “his booth is on the other side,” he says. “want us to show you the way?”

your cheeks flushed from being caught but you thank him, anyways. “it’s okay, i’ll go by myself. i’ll see you guys later, then!” you say, walking away from them while waving.

you were about to walk around, trying to find his mom’s bakery booth when you hear your phone’s notification inside your bag. pulling it out, you smile as you read the name of the sender.

beomgyu: where u at, pretty girl? i saw your aunt but not you.

you quickly type in your reply.

you: i’m at a cotton candy stall near the entrance, omw to find u

beomgyu: stay there. i’ll go to u.

after waiting for a while, you spot him walking over to you — dressed in a white button up shirt, tucked inside his black jeans. hair slightly dishevelled from the ocean breeze. he has a smile across his face as

he keeps coming closer to where you’re waiting for him.

even in the sea of people, choi beomgyu is the only one that caught your eyes. you could be in a big ballroom of a masquerade party and the only one that has your attention is still choi beomgyu — there’s

just something about him that you can’t seem to explain that make you only look at him and him only.

you look up to him when he stops in front of you, the smile from earlier getting wider. “hi, pretty.” he says before his hand reaches up to your face, tugging the strands of hair behind your ear neatly. this

has been a little habit of his that he really loves doing whenever he sees your hair getting on your face — never once have you told him that you purposely let those strands untied.

“the firework show will be at 8pm, so we will have around,” he checks his phone, “hour and half to walk around. what do you want to do?”

“you’re not helping your mom’s booth?”

“my brother is here, so he’ll be helping mom for today.” he says, peeking to the stall behind you. “wanna try the cotton candy?”

there is already a line of children waiting for their turns to get the sweet treats in various shapes —heart, bunny, flower, and even a unicorn. when it reaches your turn, beomgyu asks you what shape

you would like for your candy, and you eagerly point at the bear on the menu sheet.

“here’s your order, mr. lover boy.” the man says, handing the stick of the bear-shaped cotton candy to beomgyu. “enjoy your time here, lovebirds.”

“we’re not-…”

“thank you, we will.” taking the candy from the man, beomgyu put his hand on the small of your back, leading you away from the line.

you look up at him, blush evident on your cheeks. why didn’t he deny the man earlier? lovebirds? love, really? “beomgyu, why didn’t you-..” you pause mid-sentence when he hands you the cotton candy.

looking up at him, then down to the cotton candy that is still in his hand, then up to him again and down to the candy again, you let out a laugh.

he furrows his eyebrow questioningly, “what so funny?”

taking out your phone, you open the camera app. “stand still.”

he complies, standing still with the cotton candy in hand all the while you’re giggling and snapping multiple pictures of him. “are you done?” he whines.

you show him the photo on your phone screen, swiping right to let him see the rest of his pictures you’ve taken. “the bear looks just like you!”

“is it funny to you?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist as he tickles your side. you squirm in his hold, laughing harder. “it is, because it looks exactly like you- ah! beomgyu, stop tickling me!”

he holds onto the stick of the cotton candy tighter as his other arm is still wrapped around your waist. beomgyu has always known of how beautiful you look when you smile and laugh, but, oh god. right

now, where you’re laughing to your heart’s content, in his arm, dressed in the loveliest white summer dress he has ever seen, with the warm glow of the sun slowly setting, he swears nothing else is as

beautiful as you. not even close.

“beomgyu, please stop. i’m going to pee.” you beg, tears from laughing pooling in your eyes. he lets you go slowly before handing the cotton candy to you which you gladly take.

“let’s go,” he says as he takes your free hand in his, pulling you into the gleeful summer festival.

you spent a good hour touring around the festival — eating tanghulu and few other famous street foods. playing random games at the game booths even though you knew they were all rigged, it was

still fun — beomgyu did won you a small teddy bear keychain from the dart game.

you visited your aunt’s stall too, where she’s selling little handcrafted trinkets. you couldn’t ignore the cheeky smile she sent you when she saw the way beomgyu was holding onto your hand.

then, you went to his mom’s booth where you met his brother for the first time. you were kind of expecting the teasing from him, but you didn’t know it would be so bad to the point you had to ask beomgyu for a glass of water, afraid you might suddenly pass out from the excessive blood rush.

it was fun. you don’t think you have experienced this much fun in your life. the last time you felt happy was when you had visited disneyland back when you were ten. with your maid, not with your parents. you don’t think you would have enjoyed it as much if you did go with them.

“we have 10 more minutes before the fireworks show.” beomgyu says as he leans his side against the railing. he had suggested to go up the cliff to have a better view of the firework. you thought it’s going

to be a packed spot but surprisingly there are only three other people there, sitting distance away from where you and beomgyu are standing.

you can feel his stare from the corner of your eyes, making your cheeks flushed. god, is it possible to lose one’s life from immense blushing? if it is, then you’re in a terrible danger.

“have you ever been in love?” he asks suddenly.

at that moment, the only thing you can hear is the loud ringing in your ears. gone the sound of the festive happening down by the beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the sound

of the people behind you chattering. the sound of beomgyu’s voice.

have you ever been in love?

have you? you want to say no. you want to tell him that you don’t believe in love — that you would rather believe in the existence of a flying elephant rather than believing in love. you want to tell him

there is no such a thing as love in this world. there is no such a thing as sincere love. people love to get what they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents are a living prove of that.

you want to tell him if there is one thing you are so fucking afraid of in this world, it is to love.

you want to tell him that you don’t think love is worth taking the risk, you don’t think it’s worth fighting for. love is not a real thing. you’ve seen so many people from school getting heartbroken over a

breakup with their lover, only to jump into a new relationship a week after that. if love is a real existing thing then, how could you move on so easily like that?

you so badly want to tell him, but no words come out from your mouth as you stare into his sparkling eyes.

“you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he says after sensing the discomfort on your face.

“have you?”

“yeah,” he says, now facing the sea. “i’m in love with a lot of things — my family, my friends, toto, my bicycle.” he says, shifting on his feet, “i love helping my mom in the bakery, i love writing songs even

when no one listens to it. i love this town, no matter how boring it gets sometimes, i still love it.”

“i love summer,” he says as he turns to face you again. “i love summer because it brought you to me.”

you were about to say something to him when you hear the announcement from the speakers that the fireworks will be going off in the count of three.

ignoring the proclamation, you keep your eyes fixated on his. he is staring at you endearingly, a soft smile on his lips as he takes a step closer towards you.

three

he takes another step forward, until the tips of his shoes are meeting yours.

two

he tugs the strands of your hair behind your ear like he usually does, only this time he didn’t put his hand down, keeping it on the soft skin of your cheek. he rests his other hand on your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him.

one

he tilts his head, leaning down towards your face before stopping, leaving a small gap as he waits for you to make the next move, an unspoken sign of asking for your permission.

and as the fireworks start shooting in the sky, you stand on your tiptoes. hands resting against his chest as you lean forward, closing the gap in between your lips and his soft ones.

it started off with you gently resting your lips on his, until he starts to pull you closer by your waist — where he deepens the kiss.

it feels magical.

the way his lips are massaging softly against your own, the way his thumb is caressing your cheek in the gentlest manner, the way he tightens his hold on your waist — not hard enough to hurt you but

strong enough to keep you in place, the way his heart is beating so fast under your palm. the way the sky is glowing and shimmering brightly with the non-stop fireworks.

he is magical.

it’s not like you have ever kissed a boy before but the way beomgyu is kissing you with so much care, with so much affection, so endearingly, with so much love — you know the kiss is perfect. you just know it is.

because you don’t need a flawless kiss for it to feel complete, all you need is choi beomgyu to be the one kissing you.

to you, choi beomgyu is the epitome of perfection.

the ringing of your phone wakes you up from your deep sleep. reaching over to the vibrating device on the nightstand, you pick up the call without checking the caller id.

“hello?” you say, voice hoarse.

“y/n?” shoot, it’s your mom. “are you still sleeping?”

“uh, yeah. i just… woke up.” you sit up on your bed, eyeing the clock on the wall – 12:04pm. if there is one thing your mom hates, it would be tardiness — in anything, including the time you wake up from

sleep.

“i slept really late last night,” in which you did. after the summer festival, and the whole kissing thing, beomgyu had walked you home. not forgetting to give you another kiss, which felt more like a peck,

before he left. and you had stayed up until almost four in the morning replaying that particular scene on the cliff over and over again in your head.

you hear your mom sighs from the other end, “how you been doing there?”

oh, that’s new.

“it’s been okay,” you twirl the end of your blanket. “aunty sue is a very war-…”

“listen, y/n. i’m kind of busy right now. i just called to remind you about your leave after the summer break.”

and that is when reality hits you.

“your dad thought it would be a good idea if you come home this weekend. to make early preparations.”

shit. how could you forget?

“i’ll send a driver to pick you up this sunday,” she says, and you can hear rustling from her end, “i gotta go.”

when the line goes off, you remain holding your phone against your ear.

how can you get forget? did you forget because you’re too busy having fun here? did you forget because you finally found something, or rather, someone to share your happiness with? did you forget

that you’re only here temporarily, to take a breather from the crowded city? did you forget that you’re not supposed to be attached to anyone?

you’re leaving. you’re leaving the country in september. you’re leaving for a university on the other side of the world. you’re leaving your home. you’re leaving this town.

you’re leaving beomgyu.

beomgyu.

these past months, you have been engulfing yourself too much into whatever temporary fantasy he had created for you. you were so into it that you started to brush away all of your beliefs that have

been your pillar your whole life. you were so blinded by the happiness he had brought you that you started making an exception for him.

and for the first time in two months, for the first time since you have arrived in this small town with an ocean view, for the first time since you met the boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky — you want to be anywhere but here.

you know you’re being a jerk to beomgyu — ignoring his calls and text messages, lying to him about coming down with a fever, forcing aunty sue to make up whatever excuses she could think of

whenever the boy stopped by to catch a glimpse of you, pretending to be sleeping whenever you saw him standing under the lamppost outside of the house at night.

you’re being irrelevant and you know that better than anyone else. but you can’t find any other way to explain to him about everything — you’re not ready and you don’t know how to. you know he’s in

love with you, and maybe, just maybe, you do harbour the same feeling for him as well — but you're in denial.

love does not exist.

that’s what you’ve been telling yourself every day.

you’re going back home tomorrow, and you have successfully avoided beomgyu up until this point. until aunty sue had to (almost) beg on her knees asking you to deliver an official government letter to

the choi’s place. she had come down with a summer fever herself, making you feel bad if you refuse to help.

and that’s how you find yourself inside the the bakery’s kitchen that saturday afternoon, a brown envelope in hand. you are glad it is saturday — meaning beomgyu is not around as he always spends

the day at taehyun’s place.

you peek around the kitchen, no one in sight. there’s no one behind the register in the bakery too. is the shop closed?

you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, turning around with the envelope still in hand, “mrs. choi, aunty sue asked me to-…”

you blink, hands coming down to your sides.

leaving the brown paper on top of the counter, you were about to make an escape before you feel his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back to him.

“y/n,”

“let me go,” you say under your breath.

he pushes you against the wall, trapping your body. “are you okay?”

out of all the things he could be saying to you right now, he’s asking you if you’re okay? out of all the mean things he could be spitting to you right now for ignoring him without explanation, the words

that came out from his mouth are those of endearment.

you avoid his eyes, afraid that you might break if you catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. “i’m fine.”

“then why have you been ignoring me?”

“i wasn’t feeling well.”

“then, that means you’re not okay.” he says softly, “look at me, y/n.”

you look up at him, tears pooling your eyes. “why are you being so difficult?!” you didn’t mean to scream in his face, but at this point, your brain has lose control — your body moving according to your

heart.

beomgyu is taken aback by your sudden outburst, “what?”

“why are you making it a big deal that i’m not talking or hanging out with you anymore?”

“how am i supposed to not make it a big deal when the person i’m in love with is pushing me away?” there, he said it.

“love?” you say, while trying your hardest to keep your tears from falling. “there is no such a thing as love in this world, beomgyu.”

“are you saying my feelings for you are invalid? of course, there is. there’s love everywhere in this world.”

“no, there’s none!” you scream again, “how can you fall in love with someone within, what? two months? that’s unrealistic, beomgyu.”

“you don’t need years to fall in love with someone, y/n. you can be by someone’s side for decades, shares one roof, sits at the same dinner table and sleeps on the same bed for years and years onwards

but if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.” he raises his voice slightly.

you finally let your tears fall as images of your parents cross your mind — of how unhappy they are with each other, of how their eyes never hold any kind of affection for one another. they have been

married for almost two decades now — live under the same roof, eat at the same dinner table, sleep on the same bed, wear the same silver bands around their ring fingers – but the love was never there. it’s never going to be there.

if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.

they are the reason why you’re acting the way you are now.

"i don’t need years to fall in love with you, y/n.” he wipes the tears on your cheek gently, “the moment i saw you that one summer afternoon, i knew i was falling head over heels for you.” he pauses,

searching for your eyes. “i knew that i’m in love with you.”

“tell me, y/n… did i do anything wrong? is it the kiss?” he asks, “i’m sorry i stepped over my boundaries.”

“it’s not the kiss,” you whisper.

“then? what’s bothering you, baby?”

more tears come out of your eyes at the nickname, “this whole thing,” you gesture to him and you, “you know it’s not going to last, right?”

he shakes his head, “no, i know you’re going to back to the city after the break, but we’ll make it work. it’s not even that far. you know people do anything for their loved ones, right?”

you take a deep breath, before wailing loudly, not caring about anything anymore. “you’re not gonna love me anymore after i leave, beomgyu. and i’m not talking about going back to the city. i’m leaving the country soon, to the other side of the world, for four fucking years, choi beomgyu!”

“i’ll wait for you, i promise.”

“no one is that stupid enough to wait for someone for that long. why take the risk of waiting years for someone? what if i suddenly came back with a boyfriend, or a fiancé?”

“you worth all the risk in the world, y/n.”

“why are you making things difficult for me?” you push him off of you before you make a run for the door. you continue running up the hill, tears still spilling out your eyes.

you stop, looking back to where you came running from. he doesn’t come chasing after you.

and a part of you wish that he did.

“is this the last one?” your driver asks as he loads the last of your luggage into the car’s boot.

you nod, thanking him to which he replies with a nod of his head. turning to face your aunt, you take her hand in yours. “thank you for taking care of me in the past two months.”

she smiles, rubbing on the back of your hand with her thumb. “are you sure you don’t want to see him first?”

you shake your head and the woman just nods hers before pulling you into a hug. it’s warm. she has always been warm, ever since the first time she picked you up at the train station. she has treated you

like nothing less than a family member, though you and her are very distant relatives.

“i’ll miss you.”

“i’ll miss you too, honey.” she caresses your hair. “come back soon, hm?”

you nod, moving away from her warm hold. “bye, aunty sue.”

as the car drives past the familiar bakery, you look down to your lap, droplets of tears wetting the thin fabric of your skirt.

and just like that, your temporary happiness ends.

the leaves start to wilt, slowly turning brown as the season transition from summer to autumn. the temperature getting colder and colder as each day passed by. no more scorching sun, no more clear

blue sky, no more children running around by the beach.

he stands on the cliff, overlooking the ocean. nothing much has changed since three years ago — except some parts of the railing has awfully broken down. honestly, he prefers it that way — the town not

changing. the way the town looks boring to an outsider, but actually holds a lot of hidden wonders.

the town holds a lot of dear memories to him. this is the town he has grown up in, the town that taught him all the life lessons that made him the person he is today, the town that brought him a girl

that he could never forget, even in his next life.

he looks over to the sea. if he swims far enough, would he reach the other side of the world? to where you are right now?

three years.

it has been three years since he last heard anything from you. it’s not like he didn’t try reaching out to you, he did, multiple times. he tried calling your phone, only to be greeted with the same bot telling

him that the number is no longer in service. he tried looking up for your social media — facebook, instagram, anything. but nothing ever came up with your name aside from a profile website of your

family, a picture of fifteen years old you under the words ‘daughter of a successful businessman and the uprising fashion designer’. he thought you look adorable in the picture, despite the lack of life in

your eyes.

three years went by and you still haven’t come back.

three years and all he could think about every day is you.

you, you, you.

his friends have been telling him to just let it go, telling him it was just a summer fling, telling him it’s time for him to move on, to go meet new people in college.

but he didn’t. he knows what is worth it in his life — you are worth the wait, the risk, everything.

he tugs his hands inside the pocket of his coat, the air is getting so chilly despite it being only september.

“thought i would find you here,”

he turns his head so fast as he hears the familiar voice, he thought he might get a whiplash from it. but as he stares at the figure standing across from him, he thinks he is experiencing more than a whiplash right now.

there you are, standing five feet apart from him. he roams his eyes over your smiling face, and he wonders how is it possible for someone to be this beautiful. you look different from the last time he

saw you, in a good way.

your hair is slightly shorter compared to three years ago, you have lost the baby fats on your cheeks too, making your cheekbones stand out when you smile, and your eyes, they no longer look like the one he saw on the last day he saw you, or in the picture from the internet. your eyes are filled with life now, sparkling under the grey sky of the autumn morning.

“i went to your mom’s bakery but you weren’t around. figured you would be-…” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as the man takes a long stride towards you before pulling you into his arms.

he holds the back of your head with one hand, pressing your nose against the base of his neck while his other hand is wrapped around your waist.

he still smells the same — a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters.

even in a different season, he still smells like summer.

you wrap your arms around him, “sorry i took too long.”

shaking his head, he wraps his arm tighter around you figure — afraid that you might suddenly evaporate into thin air, and this is just another night dream of his. “no, thank you for coming back.”

“thank you, too. for waiting for me.”

he pulls you away from his neck, staring deep into your eyes. “i promised i would wait for you, didn’t i?”

you nod, smiling up at him happily. you notice how he had grown few inches since the last time you saw him that one afternoon in the back of his mom’s bakery, from the way your neck is straining so

much looking up at him. his hair is no longer the deep shade of brown anymore, it's ash grey now.

he leans down, tilting his head as he nudges your nose with his — waiting for you to close the distance between his lips and yours, just like what he did that one summer night, in this exact same spot.

and as you finally rest your lips upon his — you think about how choi beomgyu is worth all the risk that you’ve took. the arguments with your parents because they kept opposing the idea of you dating a

nameless boy from a small town, the cramped semesters because you wanted to cut one semester off so you can come back to him a year sooner, the longing and aching feeling for him you got whenever

your friends in university talk about their partners. at the end, there were all worth it.

choi beomgyu is worth it.

you are still a firm believer of love does not exist. it’s hard to get rid of that idea when you’ve been sticking to it almost all of your life. and given that your parents’ eyes still lack of love and affection for

each other even after being married for a whole two decades now, it’s impossible to accept that there is love out there for everyone.

but to you; love exists in a form of a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky, and that is all that matters to you.

and to choi beomgyu; even under the cloudy and gloomy autumn morning sky, with wilted leaves dancing around in the air with the wind, with the temperature getting colder and colder as day passed

by, it feels like summer to him — because it doesn’t matter where he is, or what season it is, whenever he’s with you, it feels like summer.

[satanghulu]

WHEN WE WERE KIDS

✦ PAIRING: thirteen x f! reader ✦ SUMMARY: Growing up in the perspective of Thirteen’s POV. (Alternatively, Thirteen has never learned how to love anyone else but you.) ✦ WARNING: high school au, angst, hurt no comfort, reader will have a personality ✦ WC: 3.8K

PART ONE | PART TWO | FIC MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Thirteen is an ugly crier. Her parents had always encouraged her to cry but they never once told her how to make the dam stop.

She sits in the playground, tears running down her cheeks, her snot-filled voice hiccuping as she desperately scratches at her eyes.

The staff in the kindergarten must have given up on her as she sat there alone as they busied themselves with taking care of the other kids, pretending not to see her crying her heart out in the middle of the slide.

A small figure jerks at the side of her eyes and she sees a hand reach out to her. Thirteen doesn’t recognise the hand or the face when her vision clears up enough to look at it.

The light-up pink sneakers catch her attention and for a second, her sobs subside.

The girl in the strawberry shortcake shirt looks at her curiously. She holds out her hand, outstretched as if she wanted to wipe away Thirteen’s tears.

Thirteen starts crying again, a loud wail that sounds throughout the area – this prompts the staff to quickly pick up the other kids to leave the area.

The girl continues to stare curiously at her, hands now dropped to her side.

“Are you sad?” She asks.

Bewildered by the question, Thirteen stops crying. She nods once, and then twice. Then she shakes her head.

She’s not sad, particularly. She just doesn’t know how to stop crying.

There is a silence that lasts a minute as the two of them engage in a stare-off. Finally, the girl sits beside her and holds out her hand again with a determined look.

“Don’t cry anymore.” 

This time, Thirteen gets a better look at the outstretched hands, now that her eyes weren’t filled with tears. They were small and splattered with paint from the earlier activities.

“I know.” Thirteen manages to choke out, hands flying up to rub at her eyes. They’re now itchy and irritating and she could feel the tell-tale tears starting up again.

“Nooo.” The girl pushes her hands away and rubs at Thirteen’s cheek gently before gasping.

“Paint.” She says.

“Paint.” Thirteen repeats, sniffling.

It turns out the paint was sticky with glue because moments later, the two girls were stuck together. Literally.

Thirteen doesn’t even realise she has stopped crying as the staff finally finally takes notice of them and rushes them to the nurse’s office.

“I’m MC.” The girl says after the nurse extracts them from each other, tutting at them gently. Thirteen’s parents are in the room, talking with the nurse while yours are nowhere to be found. Thirteen continues to trace stars into your skin, as you swing your leg on top of the table.

“I’m Thirteen.” She responds in kind. Thirteen’s parents call for her, and she hesitates to go over. She sees her sister standing in the hallway, hands crossed over her chest. But Thirteen doesn’t want to leave you just yet. 

Her sister comes over to drag her by the arm but she wrenches free and runs to hug you, rubbing her cheek against you. You accept her request to be her first friend.

.

With a girl like Thirteen, trouble was bound to follow her wherever she went. This holds true as both of you are currently getting the scolding of your lives — Thirteen has unintentionally spilled the hot chocolate she was holding onto the carpet in the living room and then used one of your mother’s high-end shirts to wipe up the stain.

Yet, she pays it no mind. She fidgets with her shirt, stubbornly avoiding eye contact with you because she just knows she would burst out in laughter the moment your eyes met and this would send your parents into another fit of anger which is not something she wants to see again.

After being expelled from the house, both of you let out the laughter you have been holding back. Thirteen thinks that your smile is the prettiest thing in the world and your laughter the best thing she’s ever heard.

This wouldn’t be the first and last time she was scolded by your parents but this leads to her being banned from your house for the rest of her life.

.

She’s eight when she comes to terms with the fact that you might just be her favourite person.

She tells you so one day, as you sit on the swingset in the same playground that both of you have met. You only hum and send her a big toothy grin, with two of your front teeth missing.

“I love you too!” Is what she thinks you say but she couldn’t be sure with the lisp you had developed from the missing teeth. (That night, she lies in bed awake thinking about your words.)

You immediately proceed to try and steal her ice cream and Thirteen lets you do so. She likes seeing you happy. 

.

Thirteen’s legs are tangled with yours as both of you giggle at whatever is playing on the screen. The popcorn that she had warmed up was nestled in the space between both of you and her hands were sticky with butter and residue as she tried to wrestle the remote from you.

“No, no!” You screeched, a high-pitched tone broken by the onset of puberty but it was ever so endearing to Thirteen.

Thirteen eventually lost the battle with you. You pouted at her, begging her to watch some rom-com movie with you. Thirteen could never resist you so she settles into the couch, ready for a bore of a movie.

She loves you really, but all you like are rom-com movies and she’s just not into that.

The movie finally starts playing and she’s already bored but she had promised you to watch it so she tries her hardest to keep her eyes glued to the screen.

The only comfort she had was you snuggling up beside her as you gave commentary on whatever scene was on the television.

When the movie gets to the climax, you have eventually quieted down and are holding your breath while clutching onto Thirteen’s sleeve.

She lets you do so, curious as to why you were so captivated. It was just a confession scene. She couldn’t find anything special about it except maybe the kissing part.

Your breath was hot on her neck as you stayed buried to her side. She turns and looks at you, eyes falling onto your lips. 

She wonders what it would be like to kiss you.

.

A new boy had joined the class today. He had introduced himself as Mephistopheles. Thirteen doesn’t like him. He was prudish and irritating in her books.

The teacher told him to choose a seat and with his audacity, he tried to sit next to you while she was in the toilet. The moment she was back, Thirteen had pushed him away because that was her rightful seat next to you. How dare he try to take her seat?

Mephistopheles had tumbled to the ground and started complaining about her with tears running down his cheek. The teacher had sent her into timeout as a punishment and being the dutiful friend you are, you had followed her to the side of the classroom before getting called back.

The boy had ended up sitting next to you. Thirteen could barely resist the flicker of jealousy within her but you had ignored Mephistopheles and it made her feel much better.

Her timeout lasted till lunch and you had sneaked away from the rest of the class to come and her, bringing your lunchbox to share with her.

“That guy.” 

“Yeah?” You responded, munching on the sandwich that Thirteen’s mum had prepared for both of you. Your face pinched into a frown at the thought of him.

“I don’t like him.” Thirteen says.

You’re usually the voice of reason between the duo but even you kept quiet for a second, swallowing around the mouthful of food.

“He keeps pulling on my hair.” You pouted, crumbs littered around the corner of your mouth. Thirteen’s face immediately turned into an ugly expression. 

Seeing your crestfallen expression is Thirteen’s least favourite thing in the world.

.

Mephistopheles became Thirteen’s first enemy.

In retaliation for her behaviour, the teacher swapped their seats around so Thirteen was no longer sitting next to you.

With some luck (or string), Mephistopheles ends up sitting next to you. He is the founder’s son and thus he gets away with many things, even if the teacher sees it.

Thirteen dislikes him.

He even made you cry once when he tugged on your hair so hard that some of the strands had fallen off. With that, he had solidified himself as Thirteen’s mortal enemy and so, she decided to take things into her own hands.

.

During recess period, she sneaks away from the rest of the class (and you) to the boys’ lockers. Quietly, she opens the locker named Mephistopheles and grabs his shoes.

She fills them with glue. She lines the side of both shoes with the glue she stole from the art room and then places them back where she found them. Her hands are sticky and she stops by the washroom before meeting you in the hallway.

“Thirteen?” You questioned, voice small. Your eyes fall on her hands that she had instinctively hidden behind her back.

She puts on a wide smile, one that stretches too much and hurts her face as she pushes you ahead. 

.

The teacher yells at the class the moment Mephistopheles comes crying to her. She punishes the whole class because she says a crime of this magnitude has to be orchestrated by a couple of the students.

Thirteen couldn’t keep the smile off her face even as she had to write a two-page reflection on the effects of bullying. She doesn’t care that the whole class was dragged into this fiasco because seeing your smile made everything worth it.

.

After school, you walked back home together, hand-in-hand as usual. But this time, you grabbed her hands and interlocked both of your pinkies together. Thirteen lets you do it without hesitation. She thinks she would let you do anything if you asked her to.

When Thirteen sends you to your house’s doorstop, you thank her with a sweet smile. She remembers stopping in her tracks at the sight of your smile, your front two teeth finally grown in. You had only giggled and leaned in to hug her, and then suddenly tip-toeing to kiss her on the cheeks.

Thirteen feels like she’s been punched in the guts, her stomach churning as if she had eaten playdough again.

“Thank you.” You say, eyes bright with that glean that Thirteen wants to cherish forever. Thirteen tilts her head, pretending not to understand.

It’s the first time Thirteen hides something from you.

(Thirteen never told you what she did and you never asked her about it. But she knows that there’s an implicit understanding that you already knew what she had done.)

.

They’re fourteen now.

You have grown taller and so has she. Thirteen misses your chubby cheeks but she thinks you’re pretty as always, even if your hair is now shorter than it used to be. 

(Your mother had made you go to a salon to cut your hair because apparently in her eyes, your hair is too unkempt when long. Thirteen thinks otherwise. You had cried into her shoulders for hours when you came back.)

You stand in front of her, hands outstretched, waiting for her to hold your hands as usual. 

“It’s the first day of school!” You titter on, swinging both of your hands excitedly. Thirteen watches as you stumble on, skirt swishing behind you. (Recently, her heart has been thumping more than usual. She wonders why?)

Thirteen grins as always, gripping your hand tightly and swerving you when you almost walked into a pole in your excitement. She doesn’t understand the appeal of the first day of school but you’re excited and so, she is as well.

She’s perfectly fine having just you in her entire universe. She doesn’t need anyone else.

.

In the first year of high school, they meet Raphael, a new addition to their duo.

He’s a boy their age and he sits next to you in Mathematics. You think he’s the coolest person you have ever met and you tell Thirteen so. She sees nothing special in him. He’s just a lanky boy with a perpetual unhappy face and he carries around a makeshift spear. (She thinks it’s simultaneously the lamest thing yet also the coolest thing ever.)

She doesn’t know what you see in him but she doesn’t see any harm in being friends with him. Sometimes, he’s even kind of cool because he lets her do anything she wants. It’s rare for anyone to let her in their vicinity nowadays.

Raphael acts older than them even though he’s only probably older than them by days – he scolds them sometimes, but mostly he lets both of you do your things. (He is. You had questioned everything about the mellow boy, and he had answered all of your questions if only to get you off his back.)

Thirteen thinks maybe she might start considering him a friend but you will always be her favourite person in the world, no, the universe. 

.

They never leave Raphael out, not on purpose – they drag him everywhere, to the park, to Thirteen’s house, to the mall, anywhere really. One day, Raphael brandishes a skateboard and that just establishes Raphael as one of the coolest people she has ever known.

Raphael always skates beside them as they skip along, sometimes, Thirteen carries you on her back because you always end up sore if you walk too long and she doesn't like to see you in pain.

He offers to carry you sometimes, saying it’s what boys should be doing but Thirteen refuses. Taking care of you is her responsibility and even if Thirteen considers him a friend now, this is something she cannot give up. 

(Adults have called her possessive and Thirteen hasn’t fully grasped what the word means but she doesn’t care. Why would someone else take care of you when she is right here?)

.

Thirteen furrows her eyebrow at the question. 

She’s seated around a round table as part of a bonding session, with you on her right and a random girl (she presumes to be her classmate but she doesn’t care enough to remember her name), has started talking about boys.

“Do you have someone you are interested in?” The girl asks, lips cherry red from the lollipop she was licking at. This makes Thirteen’s mind wonder about you. (You have recently started wearing makeup and Thirteen has been staring at your lips more often.)

“Yeah.” She says cooly, staring at the girl straight in the eyes. She doesn’t understand the gasps from the rest of the table. Shouldn’t it already be obvious? There was always only one person in her mind.

The girl taps on her arm playfully, lashes fluttering to try and get Thirteen to spill her secret. Thirteen so badly wants to rip off her glasses and stomp them on the ground but she knows that you would be disappointed in her. She feels disgusted, shifting in her seat to lean against you so that Glasses would get the hint and stop.

When she turns her head, you have an unreadable expression on your face.

“Who?” Glasses asked, persistent and hands still pawing at her. Thirteen points a finger at you, the table suddenly falling silent before a laugh breaks out, spiraling the whole table into a mess.

“Thirteen, not her. I mean a boy.” Glasses had laughed so hard that tears were leaking out. “You’re a girl, right? You’re supposed to like a boy.”

Thirteen frowns at her statement, it somehow felt like she was being mocked. 

“Why not?”

Glasses blundered for a second before straightening up. “Girls are supposed to marry boys. That’s what people say.” Even Glasses doesn’t look convinced by what she said.

She was about to open her mouth to argue more but a squeeze on her thigh caught her attention.

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

That was their secret code that you had come up with in situations where they were unable to talk. Thirteen doesn’t understand why you are using it now but she stops obediently.

The awkwardness in the air fades and the topic soon shifts naturally.

.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

Thirteen doesn’t see the appeal in the celebration but you, a hopeless romantic, had been talking about it since the start of the month. For the past few years, she had only gotten you discounted chocolates with her minuscule allowance. Thirteen had made up her mind this year to make the day more unique for you – her parents had finally increased her allowance and she had been saving it up.

The gaudy bright pink and blue card she holds in her hand feels heavy today. After sending you home yesterday, and chasing Raphael away when he wanted to follow her, she had run to the nearest craft store to get art supplies.

She had made the whole card from scratch – buying glitter and various knick-knacks and even enlisting the help of her sister to make the card look nicer. She douses the whole card in blue glitter because that’s her favourite colour and pink is yours. (She thinks it's the best combination in the world.)

You spot her in the distance, hands shooting up immediately to wave her over. Her seat is next to yours for the first period, and so she makes her way over, keeping the card and box of handmade chocolate behind her back.

Her heart is in her throat. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous either, but she is. Her eyes stay glued to your smile until you pull out the chair, and she sees the stack of letters on your desk. A pit grows in her stomach and it must show on her face because you stare at her.

“Why are you sad?” You questioned, only looking at her. You bring up both hands to squash Thirteen’s cheeks together, making silly faces in an attempt to cheer her up.

Her grip on her presents tightened and she stared at the pile on your desk as if they had done something to personally wronged her. 

“Did many people give you gifts?” Her voice comes out all wrong, warbled, and shaky.

You nod, still keeping your eyes on her. 

“But I don’t care about those. I’m waiting for your chocolates!” You mentioned, swiping the letters and gifts onto the floor before moving your chair to face you. You make grabby hands at her, clearly expectant.

The bundle of nerves inside her loosened just a bit.

“Mine?” Thirteen says. Her arms are getting tired from hiding the items behind her back so she presented it to you. Your smile lights up your face and you grab the card to hug it against your chest.

“I love you!” You proudly declare, cheekily pinching Thirteen’s side. You gently set the box of chocolates and her letter on your desk before reaching into your bag to pull out a similar-looking card.

“Tada!” You hold out the card to her – it was slightly crumpled around the edges but Thirteen notices that you had scribbled blue hearts all around the title.

“Blue hearts?” Thirteen asked, a similar lip-splitting smile on her face.

“You’re blue and I’m pink.” You explain simply, before brandishing a box of chocolate to her. “I may have burnt some of them so just eat one and throw away the rest.” You say sheepishly, eyes widening as Thirteen immediately unwraps the ribbon to open it.

Thirteen pops one into her mouth, chewing it and even though she could taste the burnt tinge in the roof of her mouth, it is the best chocolate she had ever eaten in her life. She eats a few more and tells you so.

“You’re so silly.” You rolled your eyes and nudged her shoulder but she could tell that you were pleased with her compliment, back straight and swinging your legs.

(She secretly hopes this tradition will continue to happen every year.)

.

They’re out at a party today. Candy, Thirteen’s sister, had extended an invitation to them. (You think it’s because Candy had accidentally broken one of Thirteen’s props for a prank and had felt apologetic but Thirteen thinks otherwise.)

Giggling and all dressed up, you knock on Raphael’s door, waiting for the boy to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” His voice, curt as usual, holds a hint of curiosity this time as he peers at them in the small gap in the door that he had created.

Thirteen blows a raspberry at him. “We’re going to a party!” You pull on her arm, a silent plea for her to behave herself.

Raphael looks at you and then he looks at Thirteen before shutting the door — but Thirteen sticks her leg into the gap before wincing at the impact as Raphael tries to push her leg out.

“You’re coming with us.” Thirteen declared, finally managing to manhandle the door and forcing it open.

Raphael only sighs as the door inches wide.

.

Thirteen is in the middle of the room, dancing her heart out with her hips swaying to the beat. She had lost you in the crowd, and Raphael had probably skulked away to the kitchen to keep up with his mysterious air.

She’s in the midst of a crowd, the steady bass of the music thumping through her, and people are crowding her.

She doesn’t mind the attention for once, playing up all her charms and winking to the people who dared come up to her. She thinks that maybe she’s been craving for attention and for someone to want her more than she had thought.

But a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach starts developing and soon enough, she stumbles off to the side of the room, holding onto the wall for support. 

She wonders what it would take for someone to love a person like her.

Raphael had once said that Thirteen and you must have once been lovers in another life (Thirteen thinks so too) because she could feel your stare on her and sure enough, a hand that she knows is yours, was placed on her back.

Thirteen finds it intriguing too. Through all the blurs of faces, your face stands out as the only clear one in the sea.

You’re looking at her again with amusement, but Thirteen feels like her head is underwater, she can’t hear you but all she can see is your soft pink lips. The smell of something sweet wraps around her, and she can’t help but think of your strawberry lipgloss, the one she gave you for your birthday.

If she kisses you now, would you push her away?

Her mouth opens and what comes out is the dinner that her mother had whipped out instead of words.

“Thirteen!”

She had puked on you.

a/n▸ vaguely inspired by a fic I read like 8 years ago, which unfortunately has been deleted. but it is a testament to how much it changed my brain chemistry LOL also I was supposed to finish the entire fic for obey me month, @obeymetournaments but life got me in a chokehold so im making it multi-chaptered and a PSA to finish this in the future 😭

[writingfanfiction]

“Ten things I hate about you” - Chapter One

Pair: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern High School AU. Skinny sophomore Steve Rogers is new in school. After meeting fellow sophomore Natasha, he quickly develops a crush on her. However, Steve finds out he can’t ask her out because her dad won’t allow Natasha to date if her older sister, the senior Y/N, doesn’t date first. The only problem is: Y/N has no interest in dating whatsoever. With the help of his new friend Sam Wilson, Steve comes up with a plan to find Y/N a suitable match. The best candidate? The most dreaded senior in school, Bucky Barnes.

A/N: Loosely based on the movie of the same name.

“Ten things I hate about you” masterlist | Main masterlist

*****

You weren’t usually a violent person. Far from it actually. You truly believed violence was the very last resort to deal with any issue. However, John Walker not only wasn’t someone you could reason with, but he also brought the worst in you. Which was why you had barely sat foot in school property when your knee went straight between his legs. You were sure most people wouldn’t blame you even if they didn’t know why you had attacked him. It was John Walker after all. The only problem was that Mr. Coulson wasn’t like most people, so all he saw was you kicking the school’s star running back, and he didn’t bother to learn why you had resorted to violence. “Nothing is an excuse to be violent towards a fellow student, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. And that was the reason why you were on your way to the principal’s office even before your senior year had officially started.

Right outside of Principal Hill’s office, May Parker, the principal’s secretary, sat at her desk typing away in her computer. Upon seeing you, she smiled brightly at you. “Good morning, Y/N! I see we are starting the year at full throttle,” she chuckled. May liked you, and she had said so on multiple occasions. She liked your no nonsense attitude, and believed most of the time you had good reasons to behave like you did. To her that meant that most of the time you shouldn’t have been sent to the principal’s office.

“Always a pleasure, May!” You smiled in greeting.

She adjusted her big frames at the top of her nose and asked you, “How was your summer, Y/N?”

“Oh, you know. Your ordinary teenage summer.” You shrugged.

May smiled knowingly. “I hardly think you had an ordinary teenage summer!”

You chuckled. She knew you too well! “Well, it was my ordinary summer and I’m a teenager, unfortunately, so...” You shrugged. “How was yours?”

“Good! Peter and I went to the beach for a couple of weeks.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” You smiled at her. You were genuinely happy for May. It was good to see her managing to get back on track after the untimely death of her husband.

“Thank you, dear.” May smiled again, understanding what you left unsaid. Before she could dwell too long on sad thoughts, she continued, “Please, do be seated. Principal Hill will be with you in a moment.” She pointed to the waiting chairs, where you were surprised to find a seated Bucky Barnes.

Bucky had disappeared from school during junior year, never having returned after winter break. Multiple rumours abounded as to the why of that. They went from clearly believable possibilities to the most absurd hypotheses. You were quite sure he had neither become a hair model in Japan nor become part of some motorcycle street racing gang. You weren’t friends with Bucky Barnes, but you knew the guy pretty well not to believe the absurdities you heard through the teenage grapevine.

Bucky had been your classmate ever since kindergarten, and ever since you could remember the two of you had been competing for the title of best student in your class. You were both highly competitive, and had been trying to best each other at everything. Although he was extremely annoying to you due to your competitiveness, just as you were to him, Bucky had been a sweet, sort of golden boy until ninth grade. He had been genuinely nice to everyone, a model student and a model teenage boy. He was like a ray of sunshine, short shiny hair perfectly combed, colourfully but tastefully dressed and all smiles. He had been a star football player who had made it to the varsity team in ninth grade. Even though he had made it as a benchwarmer, no other freshman had made it to varsity. Then, something happened during summer, before sophomore year, and Bucky became this unapproachable loner who let his hair grow, wore a great deal of black and leather, and who was trying to kill himself by smoking too many cigarettes and driving a vintage Harley. After whatever had happened, to most people he was clouded in an aura of mystery that made most people afraid of him, while at the same time most girls fawned over him. The only thing that hadn’t changed, however, was his competitiveness to be the top student in your class. You never understood why. Sure, there were rumours that he was just naturally gifted and didn’t even have to study to get good grades, but you knew that wasn’t true. You were there to witness his presentations, that guy put effort in his school work.

You and Bucky had a strange relationship. While you wanted to best each other, you still didn’t really hate each other. Moreover, you were probably the only person who wasn’t afraid of him, why would you be, and you friendly bantered. There were also times when your competitive nature made you two end up together in Principal Hill’s office.

It seemed he was back from wherever, though, as for some reason he was also waiting for Principal Hill on the first day of senior year. What could he possibly have done so soon? You paid a moment’s attention to him. His already long hair seemed longer, his face had a couple of days stubble, and he looked bigger than before. But what struck you the most was the fact that he looked more man than a teenage boy now. Sure, he was eighteen, lawfully an adult, but most seniors didn’t look manly.

“Y/L/N.” Bucky said by way of greeting and nodded his head at you.

“Barnes.” You sat down next to him, dropping your backpack on the floor.

“Did you miss me?” He smiled mischievously at you and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Every single day!” You answered sarcastically in a high pitched voice and put a hand over your heart.

He laughed at that and you couldn’t help but smile. His genuine laugh had always been lovely. Not that you would ever say that out loud. Bucky continued, “What are you doing here before the first class of the school year had even taken place?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Yeah, but I asked you first.” He smirked.

You had no problem sharing what had happened, and you and Bucky had been in those same chairs many a time, so you just let the smirk slide and answered, “Walker.”

“Say no more!” Bucky put his hands up.

You chuckled and asked him, “How about you?”

“Walker.” He winked at you.

“Now, don’t make me wish to best you at that as well, Barnes!” You joked.

He smiled again. “I don’t know… I punched him in the face. How can you best that?” He challenged you.

You were the one smiling mischievously this time. “I kicked Walker’s genitals.” Bucky made a face and squeezed his legs together. You heard May chuckle in her desk and you sent her a smile. She also didn’t like Walker.

“You know, I concede this round. You bested me this time, Y/L/N.”

“How gracious of you!” You smiled sarcastically.

“You know, I thought you were adept of non-violence.” Bucky smirked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He knew all about your opinions. Well, most of the school did, since you were quite vocal about them.

“Well, sometimes violence is the only way, Barnes. Like when a jerk crudely comments on your best friend’s rear.”

“The Carol Danvers wasn’t the one who kicked him in the nuts?” Bucky’s eyes were wide open.

“I was closer to him.” You shrugged.

“Of course.”

After a moment, you asked him, “How about you? Why did you punch Walker? Did he crudely comment on your ass as well?” You smirked.

“Ha. Ha.” Bucky said in a monotone. “Funny, but no. He was harassing some poor freshman in that alley at the other side of the street.”

You put both of your hands over your heart and sarcastically asked him, “The Bucky Barnes protecting the weak and oppressed?!”

Bucky shrugged. “Consider it my good deed of the year.”

“Of course.” Bucky smiled at you and, once again, you couldn’t help but smile back. At that moment, you realised you had kind of missed bantering with him.

You heard Principal Hill’s door open and you looked at it. “… And remember, anything you need, we are here for you.” She took a step out of her room and, upon seeing you and Bucky, she sighed, forgetting all about the scrawny blond boy behind her, effectively preventing him from leaving the office and making him witness your interaction. “I cannot believe this.” Principal Hill threw her arms up. “What are you two up to already? You hadn’t even had your first class of the school year, you can’t possibly have exploded the chemistry lab again!” The blond boy behind her was suddenly scared.

“We didn’t explode the chemistry lab!” You defended yourself.

“Yeah, we exploded a couple of beakers and test tubes…” Bucky shrugged.

“Maybe an Erlenmeyer flask…” You added.

Principal Hill sighed. “What are the two of you doing here?”

“We are here separately. We caused different, totally unconnected ‘problems’” You air quoted the word problems. John Walker was the real problem.

Bucky nodded and added, “Although, we are here coincidentally because of the same object in our acts of violence.” You nodded.

Principal Hill pinched the bridge of her nose. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“John Walker-” You and Bucky started in unison.

Principal Hill lifted her hand to interrupt you. “I see. You are free to go. No matter what you’ve done to Walker, I’m sure he’s also at fault.” The blond boy behind her was shocked the principal was letting trouble makers off the hook. You and Bucky smiled, grabbed your backpacks and got up.

Bucky walked to Principal Hill, and in a low tone said, “You know, Hill, I’ve turned eighteen while I was away. You know what that means, right?” He wiggled his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes. The guy really enjoyed playing with fire.

Principal Hill tilted her head and smiled at him before firmly saying, “James Buchanan Barnes, get your ass off my office before I sent you to detention on your first day back!” Bucky only chuckled.

“Goodbye May!” You waved at her on your way out.

“Always a pleasure, May!” Bucky saluted the secretary before following you.

In the hallway, your friend Carol awaited you. You opened your mouth to talk to her when you heard Bucky behind you. “I’ll see you around, Y/L/N. You won’t have it easy like you had last semester.”

“I’m not worried, Barnes. You’ll just be lagging behind me, exactly like you’ve been since High School started!” You tilted your head to the side and gave him a fake sweet smile. He repeated the gesture and walked away.

“I didn’t know he would be back.” Carol said as you two started walking. You shrugged. She continued, “You know, you two have great OTP potential.”

You looked at your friend as if she had grown another head. “Did you smoke something while I was in there? That’s Barnes you’re talking about.”

“I know.” She smirked at you. “But now that I think about it, you guys had always had this super weird, but strong, chemistry…” You rolled your eyes and pinched your friend. “Ow! What are you doing, Y/N?!”

“I’m just checking if you’re not an alien shapeshifter who’s pretending to be my best friend.” Carol didn’t look amused.

*****

Next chapter coming soon

[daechwitatamic]

1. Asterism || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 1: Asterism

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, kissing, fingering, explicit protected s*x WC: 9.5k

Part 1: Asterism Asterism: (noun) a recognizable pattern of stars that does not make up the full constellation

Things start when your mother texts you asking for a favor.

To be more historically accurate, things started when you were a child. But for the sake of brevity, for a tighter focus on the now, it starts with this text -

[5:41 PM] Mom: can you do me a big favor?

When you send her back “sure”, she calls you, which you expected all along. You’re surprised she texted first at all, instead of going straight to the phone call. She’s a creature of habit, your mother. 

“I cooked a few dishes and stuck them in the fridge,” she tells you. Pacing across your own kitchen, a fifteen minute drive from her place, you squint as you pass through the one exact spot where the afternoon sunlight assaults you from the window every day around this time. You’ve lived here for years - you’ve just been too lazy to put curtains up in this room. Your mother continues, her voice coming through your phone so loudly that you can hold it like it’s on speaker (although it’s not) and still hear her loud and clear. “You’ll see them, they’re in the tupperware with blue lids? Can you bring them over to the Kims’?”

“What?” you say - not because you didn’t understand the directions, but because you didn’t understand the why. She starts to repeat herself but you cut her off, clarifying, “Why are you making food for the Kims?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she asks. “Or at least Minji? Mr. Kim had his knee replacement today.”

You call Minji from the car, but she doesn’t answer. You’ve been best friends since kindergarten; her dad’s house is just across the street from the one you’d grown up in, where your parents still live. You kids have all grown up, and away - you, Minji, and her two brothers - but Mr. Kim still lives in that same house, the light blue one that you can see from your childhood bedroom window. 

You still live close, and Minji’s just a few towns over. Her brothers moved far - requiring planes and trains to get back. You see Minji at least monthly, if not more often - usually you meet for brunch at a place between your houses. Sometimes, though, you meet back home home - for holidays, usually. The last time you were at her dad’s house with her was for the winter holidays two years ago; you’d rung in the New Year on her back deck. 

You try not to think about that night. 

You let yourself into your parents’ empty house with the code and head straight for the kitchen. As promised, there’s a small stack of blue-lidded containers, and you load them into a reusable grocery bag you steal from the cabinet beneath the sink. You lock the house back up and head across the street on foot. 

Once upon a time - for most of your life, really - you would have just let yourself in. You and Minji grew up in each other’s homes. This was your second home, her dad your second father. It had been like that your whole life. But once you and Minji went away to college, things changed - just slightly. Part of it’s just becoming an adult. You don’t barge in anymore, you knock. 

You expect Minji, or maybe one of her aunts if they’ve come to help, to answer the door. Instead, it swings open to reveal her older brother, Seokjin - full lips frowning slightly, strong brow furrowed as he tries to piece together why you’re standing on his father’s doorstep holding a grocery bag. 

The moment stretches, stills. It can go one of two ways - you can let it be awkward, or you can be sure that it isn’t.

“Hi,” you say, hoping it sounds breezy. “My mom cooked some dishes for you.”

Seokjin takes a minute step backwards, lips parting to speak, but then you hear your name squealed from over his shoulder and you brace yourself for impact. 

Jin acts fast, grabbing the bag of food from you and flattening himself against his open front door as Minji launches herself past him to hug you, laughing.

“I called you on my way over!” you scold her, smiling, hugging her tightly back. 

“Sorry!” she says, still holding you, still laughing. Jin’s still holding your food, just to the side of you, watching this display with a blank face. “I was helping my dad lay down. I left my phone in the kitchen, I think? You should see his knee, it’s disgusting. Is that food?”

She releases you and turns, heading through the house towards their roomy kitchen. You know you’re expected to follow. You reach to take the food back from Jin, shooting him a thankful smile. Your fingers brush as you take the bag, and you drop your gaze, hurrying to follow the sound of Minji’s voice as it floats through the house. Seokjin stands in place as you leave, and you hope he doesn’t see you shudder against goosebumps as you hurry away.

He’s had that effect on you since you were fourteen years old.

But that’s ancient history.

There’s a lot you want to ask him, starting with how long he’ll be in town, ending with… well. Not now. 

In the kitchen, Minji is trying to make room in the fridge for everything your mom sent over. You sit at the table, watching her absently, answering whenever her chatter pauses to ask you something. 

Jin joins you two wordlessly. He reaches over Minji’s head and then turns and holds out a beer bottle, offering it to you.

“Ooh, yes please,” you say, taking it from him. Minji looks up to see what you’re talking about and then nudges Jin’s shin - which is next to her head - to indicate that she wants one too. He sits across the table from you and sets a beer for Minji at the seat to his right. When she’s done in the fridge, she sits heavily next to her brother and they both look at you as they drink.

“So,” you say, because you have to say something about now, have to keep yourself from getting swept up in twenty-something years of memories that this house holds for you. “How’d the surgery go?”

“Great!” Minji beams. “The surgeons said it was exactly as expected. He’ll start physical therapy next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you tell her genuinely. Mr. Kim was always important to you. You turn your attention to Jin, who’s downed half of his beer already. “Are you staying long?”

He nods, swallows, then answers. “A few weeks, probably,” he tells you. “I got approval to work remotely through the end of the month. Hopefully by then he’ll be back to a point where he doesn’t need someone here 24/7, and Minji can just pop in on him…” 

He trails off, his eyes going over your shoulder, watching a few birds hop from the bird feeder to the deck railing. The deck railing where you’d hung wet bathing suits to dry on never-ending summer afternoons, where you’d placed soda cans with rivulets of condensation running down their sides, where you’d leaned with Minji as you talked about boys and school and boys again, where you’d buried your hands in Seokjin’s hair as he’d - nope. 

Not going there. Not unless you want to drown.

“Do you want to eat dinner with us?” Minji asks, throwing you a life preserver by dragging you back to the present. 

“Ah,” you say, letting your regretful tone do the answering for you. “I’d like to, but… I should get home.”

I should get out of this house, you think. I should get away from your brother. 

She grins at you slyly. “Got that man to feed?”

You laugh in surprise. Seokjin is suddenly very interested in the label on the beer he’s almost finished. 

“No,” you say. “He’s out of the picture.”

Minji narrows her eyes at you, assessing. “We don’t seem sad,” she observes finally. 

You shake your head. “We aren’t sad,” you confirm. Jin gets up wordlessly and opens the fridge again, reaching for a second beer. His shoulders take up almost the whole space. You try not to notice, try not to think about the muscles of those shoulders rippling under your fingertips - enough. Enough, now.

You stand, needing the escape, needing to get away, draining the rest of your beer in one long drag that would make your college-self proud.

“Listen,” you say to the room at large, to both of them, after placing the empty bottle back on the table, “call me if you need help, okay? My place isn’t far. I can pop over if you need an extra pair of hands, or a break, or some errands handled. Okay?”

Seokjin’s still hiding in the refrigerator, taking a million years to choose between two of the same beer. Minji, oblivious, takes your hand gratefully.

“Thank you,” she says warmly, giving you a squeeze. 

You start to head back towards the front door, Minji still clutching your hand. 

“Bye, Seokjin,” you say over your shoulder.

He glances up at you around the open refrigerator door.

“See you,” he says. There’s something hollow in his voice. 

You get it, though. 

The last time the three of you were here together, two years ago, he’d welcomed in the New Year buried inside you against the back of their house, gasping your name against the inky dark of the frigid December night.

You’ve never told a soul, and you don’t think he has, either.

You’ve never talked about it at all.

You and Minji spent New Year's Eve out at bars and clubs together almost every year. The year you were twenty-six, though, something had changed. Suddenly, the idea of vying for bar space, in heels, for overpriced drinks and sleazy dudes seemed abysmal. 

“We could stay in,” Minji had suggested. “Pretend we’re sixteen, sneaking booze into dad’s basement again? Seokjin is back in town for the week because he dumped that shitty girlfriend of his for the sixth time, might be kind of fun to all hang out.”

You’d pretended to dislike the idea, grimacing a little as you thought it over. Your brain snagged on dumped his shitty girlfriend. 

“Come on,” she’d said cajolingly. “We can put on 90’s music and play card games, like we used to.”

You knew the whole time that you’d go; all you needed to know was that Seokjin would be there. Since he’d left for college, he only came home twice a year - Christmas holidays, and over summer breaks. Since he'd moved far, even those weren't promised.

Minji ended up with a small crowd - a few that you were friends with in high school, but most of them you thought were friends of her brothers. 

You’d spent most of the night trying to avoid staring at Jin - or at least avoid getting caught staring. It had been about two years since you’d seen him last - four years since he moved away. He was twenty-eight to your twenty-six that year, and you weren’t sure if it was the way he was aging or if it was the tequila, but he seemed - somehow - even more handsome than you remembered. 

It had gotten more and more difficult as the night went on to focus - on conversations, on card games, on how to balance as you walked; your brain wanted to spend its energy cataloging the quirk of his full lips when you said something funny, his windshield-wiper laugh when Minji dropped a whole tray of lemon slices she’d spent twenty minutes cutting, the strip of bare skin his shirt revealed when he bent down to help her pick them up. It was like your brain was trying to soak up every little detail of him that it could after so many years of distance, of him being somebody you used to be close to.

Eventually, you’d retreated to the back deck, alone, just minutes before midnight. Outside, the noise of the party fell away, and you took in deep gulps of cold air, your hands gripping the splintery wood of the railing. 

When the door opened behind you, you expected Minji. Instead, Seokjin stood there, staring at you like he’d asked you a question and was waiting for an answer. 

Maybe, in his own way, he had. Maybe it had been all the quick glances he’d given you that night. Maybe it had been the way he’d stuck close, listening when you talked, smiling wryly when you cracked jokes. Maybe it had been the way his eyes had followed you from room to room, the way his fingers had tightened around his glass when you bent down to grab one of the wayward lemon slices.

You’d stared back at him, unsure what the right move was. This was Minji’s brother, and you’d promised her almost fifteen years ago to never get tangled up with her family. This was Minji’s brother, who had bought you girls beer before you were old enough, who had once driven to pick you up from the mall on a rainy day when your date had gone badly. This was Minji’s brother who’d once held your hand in the backseat of your dad’s car as you sobbed over a broken wrist, who’d often let you sit and watch him play video games even after he’d told Minji to bug off and leave him alone.

This was Seokjin, who was staring at you so intently that for a moment you weren’t sure if he hadn’t asked you something.

“Seokjin?”

His eyes met yours.

“Explain to me how you got even more beautiful?” he’d murmured, and your heart had leapt into your throat.

“I - what?”

He was close enough to touch. You’d dreamed of this for so long - pathetically long, really. You’d never dreamed that he’d want you.

He stepped closer, and you did touch him - one hand acted without permission, coming up and resting lightly on his chest, over his heart. It had thumped beneath your tentative fingers. 

Your fingers had curled in the material of the thick hoodie he’d been wearing, had pulled him just closer.

And then his mouth was on yours, searing, and your hands were in his hair, and that deck railing was pressing into your lower back as he pinned you against it, and one of his hands was creeping beneath the hem of your shirt, and you could feel him hardening against your lower stomach, and -

And through the window, you could see the party carrying on.

You broke the kiss, pushed gently on his forearm to extract his sneaky hand from inside your shirt.

“They can see us,” you’d gasped, and he’d followed your gaze somewhat dumbly, like it hadn’t occurred to him that everyone else existed in the same place as the two of you.

Then he’d taken your hand, pulling you down the deck steps, away from the glow of light from the house’s windows, down into the darkness, where witnesses would have to work a little harder to see what was going on.

He’d pressed you against the wall of the house, beneath the deck, and as you’d tipped your head back to allow him access to nip and soothe lines up and down your neck you’d thought of all the summer nights you’d spent in this exact spot. This is where the keg usually goes, you’d thought absently as that sneaky hand returned to the bare skin of your belly beneath your sweater.

You hadn’t felt even remotely cold, despite the threat of snow in the air. 

You’d kissed until your lips hurt and you wanted it to hurt just a little more, your hands starting to toy with the waistband of his jeans as his thumb rubbed determined circles around your puckered nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. 

“Tell me what you want,” he’d said, the words mumbled against your lips. He’d pulled back just enough, just enough to watch your face as you told him -

“Anything. Everything. All of it… all of you.”

His hand had traveled up the back of your thigh, beneath your skirt, fingers pushing the cotton of your panties aside before stroking through your center. You’d moaned, low, aware that anyone could come out onto the deck above you without warning. His breath had hitched in response, and his hand had left your pussy long enough to tug you to him again, pressing you against his hips for just a second before returning. This time he didn’t toy with you, pressing his index finger into your messy heat, followed quickly by a second digit.

You’d mouthed his name against his jaw, trying to keep yourself upright as he pressed you against the brick of the house, as he pumped his fingers leisurely, fingertips rubbing circles against your front wall until he found the place that made you gasp and buck against his hand. He’d laughed, asked, “Yeah?” in a cocky voice you’d never heard on him before. It’d made you, impossibly, wetter. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” you’d whispered, half delirious, and he’d laughed again, like he knew already.

There had been a flash of foil between his teeth, the sound of his zipper echoing across the frozen backyard, and then he was pushing inside you, fingers still wet from you now gripping your hip to keep you in place. 

You’d groaned in unison as he slowly bottomed out. The brick had bit at your back, the winter air had bit at your face, and Seokjin had bit at your lower lip as he pounded into you steadily. 

It had been hurried. It had been hushed. 

Your name on his lips when he came took the air from your lungs.

You’d wanted this, wanted him, in silence for as long as you could remember. Before you had words to put to it, before you were old enough to understand why your stomach hurt when he left the room. 

It had hurt, after. The scrapes from the brick wall. Your sore hamstrings. Your chapped, cracking lips. 

His silence.

You’d both missed the countdown. Happy New Year.

You don’t know what you had expected after seeing Seokjin at his dad’s house unexpectedly. Apparently, some foolish part of your subconscious thought he’d reach out to you, because you find yourself disappointed when he doesn’t.

Stupid, you think. I don’t know what you were thinking. Aside from that one slip on New Year’s Eve two years ago, you’d done a stellar job at orbiting Seokjin in silence, keeping your feelings under control and out of sight, never pushing yourself into his path but never letting him stray so far as to forget you, either. Nothing’s changed. 

You tell yourself this for two days, until Minji’s name lights up your phone as you’re packing up from work on Thursday evening, your stomach growling and your feet aching to get out of their heels. 

“Yeeees?” you answer her as you power down your laptop and cast your gaze around your cubicle for anything else that needs to come home with you.

“Are you still at work?” she asks, sounding a little breathless, a little irritated.

“Packing up right now,” you tell her, rising and pulling your bag onto your shoulder. You give Dale, your cubicle-mate, a silent wave goodbye and head for the elevators. “What’s up?”

“I tried your mom first, but your parents are apparently out to dinner tonight,” she says. “Is there any way you can swing by my dad’s? I think Seokjin is having a hard time with dad, and I’m stuck here at least another two hours -.”

“No problem,” you tell her, cutting off her explanation. It isn’t needed. “I’ll head there now. Tell him I’ll be like…” You glance at your watch for the time, “...twenty-five minutes, tops, if traffic is bad.”

“You’re a saint,” she breathes in relief. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I’ll get there as soon as I can. I promise I’ll hurry. Did I tell you that deal with Mr. Lee fell through? I have been non-stop -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell her, meaning it. “I’m happy to help. I’ll be there soon. See you later, okay?”

You grew up on a dead end. You never tell people that, now. You always fancy it up if it’s brought up in conversation - you call it a cul-de-sac, though it isn’t according to the yellow sign that marks where you turn left to reach your parents’ house. 

Every inch of this street is steeped in memories for you - memories of growing up with Minji and Seokjin, running wild through these streets whenever the weather allowed it, learning to ride a bike, having snowball fights and water balloon fights and - once - even a foodfight. Thinking of your childhood with those two, you think mostly of chaos and laughter. 

You miss it, a little, and that’s only a little bit nostalgia talking. Maybe the lack of chaos is nice, but the lack of laughter kind of sucks. 

It takes Seokjin forever to answer the door when you knock. When he does, it’s evident immediately why Minji had called for backup. 

He’s sick as a dog; his nose is red, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and sleepy. 

“Minji sent me,” you explain. “She said you need help with your dad.”

“I don’t,” he protests, just a little whiny. “We’re fine. Why’d she call you? I told her we were fine.”

This clear untruth is punctuated by a fit of coughing. You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

He shakes his head, recovering. “It’s just a cold,” he says, doubling down. “I’m sorry you drove all the way here, but I don’t need help. I was just about to help Dad get showered - I need to get back up there, he’s waiting.”

He starts to turn to go, but you reach out, catching his sleeve. He turns, brows furrowing in frustration, but you cut him off.

“Jin,” you say seriously, “come on. I came here to help. What needs to be done? Do you want me to start heating up dinner while he showers?”

He sags back against the wall behind him, raising one hand to rub wearily over his brow, his eyes, down over his mouth. You let his sleeve slip between your fingers and you wait as his resolve cracks. 

He sighs heavily, eyeing the ceiling. “Could you strip his bed and put on clean blankets? So when he’s done showering, I can put him back in a clean bed?”

“Absolutely,” you say, relieved that he’s delegated a task. He leads you upstairs silently. Your feet remember the way to Mr. Kim’s bedroom. You weren’t often allowed to play in there as kids, but you have to pass it to get to Minji’s room; you think you could walk the path in your sleep.

Halfway up the stairs, you pause, stopping by one of the dozens of framed photos on the wall. You smile, putting your finger on the glass. 

At the top of the stairs Seokjin pauses, turns to see why you stopped. Something on his face softens when he sees. 

“Yeah,” he says. “That one’s still up.”

You give him a small smile. The photo your finger rests on is a group shot with blue water meeting blue sky as the backdrop. 

Mr. Kim stands in the middle, beaming, one arm around Minji and the other around Seokjin. Minji’s little brother Jungkook - only a year behind you girls in school - sits on the ground at Seokjin’s feet, grinning with a scrunched nose. You’re behind Minji, peeking around her shoulders, your eyes closed as you laugh. You’re all kids in the picture - Seokjin, as the oldest, is probably around ten. 

You’d been shy to be included in the picture, but Mr. Kim had told you that you were one of his kids in spirit if nothing else. You’d all been at the lake that day. Seokjin had been the one who made you and Jungkook laugh as the camera snapped. You remember it like it was yesterday. After the picture had been taken, you girls and Seokjin had dug a hole in the sand and buried Jungkook up to his neck. You’d splashed in the water, squealing over the slimy rocks that lined the lake’s floor. Later, you’d all eaten thick slices of watermelon, the juice dripping on your bare legs as the summer sun set over the horizon, the four of you sitting in a row on the picnic table bench like a matched set. You’d chased fireflies until Mr. Kim called your names, ready to pack you all into the car to return home, smelling like sunscreen and lakewater. 

It was one of your favorite memories, that whole day. 

You strip the blankets and sheets from Mr. Kim’s bed and toss them in the hamper. You collect a clean set from the linen closet in the hallway without needing to be told where they are. You spent as much time in this house as your own growing up. In the ensuite, you can hear the shower running, the low murmur of both men’s voices as they chat. You make the bed, fluffing the comforter, and then take the hamper down to the basement, where you dump them into the washer and get it started. 

When you head back upstairs, Seokjin is in the living room, slumped sideways on the couch, eyes closed. You’re not sure if he’s awake, if he knows you’re standing behind him. He has that hand pressed to his brow again, and you know a headache when you see it. 

You pad quietly up the stairs and into the hallway bathroom, where Mr. Kim used to keep all the over-the-counter stuff - bandaids, pain-killers, lozenges, even tampons back when Minji still lived here. 

Heading back downstairs, you grab a glass of water from the kitchen and find Seokjin exactly where you left him, pressing his face pitifully into the arm of the couch.

You nudge him gently, and hold out your offerings - fever reducer and the water. 

He grumbles as he takes them, pushing himself to a more upright position so he can drink from the glass without spilling.

When he sets the glass down, he looks over at you somewhat warily. “How have you been?” he asks, and there’s something resigned in his voice. Something defeated. You wonder what battle he’s lost, to make him sound like that. You feel - have always felt - that so much of what goes on in Jin’s mind is kept behind the curtain. For someone so loud, he’s the most private person you know.

“I’ve been fine,” you shrug. “Normal.”

He looks sideways at you for a long moment. “Is that a lie?” he asks finally, voice low. 

“No,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. It isn’t, right? You’ve been fine. What happened between you was two entire years ago, the lid closing tightly on a lifetime of maybes. You’d had your moment together and it hadn’t led to anything. What choice did you have, but to accept it and move on? So, there you have it. You’ve been fine.

You make the decision, right there, not to bring it up - what happened two years ago. His lips on yours, his body under your hands, the way your legs had trembled as they’d struggled to hold you up. Better to let it stay dead. If Seokjin had wanted to talk about it, he’s had two years and four months to do so. If he wants to pretend he didn’t fuck his sister’s best friend and then ghost her completely, who are you to mess with the plan? 

You need something sweet; you’re far too bitter.

But honestly, you can’t even hate him for it. He hadn’t promised you a thing, so logically there’s no reason to feel like a toy played with and discarded - even if you’re left wishing he had never picked you up to play with at all.

You look him over, taking in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the haze you can still see in his eyes. “You look like shit,” you tell him.

He lets out a single puff of a laugh, his eyes closed. “Now I know you’re lying,” he says, lips quirking into a smile. 

“You look like you have the flu,” you say flatly, ignoring his nonsense. 

“It’s just a cold,” he says.

You lapse into silence. He keeps his eyes closed, that hand still resting on his head. Finally, you say, “How about you? How’ve you been?”

He shrugs. “Been fine. Working. You know.”

A tiny smile tugs on your lips. “What are we playing these days?”

The smile creeps sideways across his face and he opens his eyes to actually look at you, sending you a conspiratory smirk. “Now you’re asking the right questions,” he says, and starts to tell you about a console game he got last week. 

You head to the basement when it’s time and move the sheets you were washing into the dryer. You pause in the doorway when you return upstairs, looking Seokjin over from afar. He looks better than he had when you’d arrived - eyes less glassy, cheeks less pink. 

“I think your fever’s down,” you say, as you return to where you’d been sitting before.

“I feel better than I did,” he agrees. He looks at you appraisingly, like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. And, considering the fever, maybe he is. “So Minji said you live pretty close?”

You nod. “Not far. That apartment complex over behind the plaza with the grocery store? You remember, the one that we used to go trick-or-treating at?”

“Wow,” he says, giving an appreciative whistle. “Those are swanky.”

“I’m swanky these days,” you joke, smiling. 

Just then, there’s a soft beep from outside - someone locking their car.

“That’s Minji,” Seokjin observes, and you find yourself standing, feet carrying you towards the kitchen. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” you call over your shoulder. Jin is watching your sudden departure, clearly bemused. You busy yourself in their fridge, even though you don’t have a real reason to. You just didn’t want Minji to enter the house and find you and Jin having domestic hours on the living room couch.

The front door opens, and Minji calls your name through the house.

“I’m in here!” you call back, and head for the doorway of the kitchen. 

Minji hurries to you, setting her bags down on the kitchen floor and flopping dramatically onto the doorjamb. 

“I am so sorry,” she says. “Thank you so much for coming over.”

“Your brother’s sick,” you tell her flatly. “He had a pretty high fever when I got here.”

Her eyes widen, and she turns to look over her shoulder at Seokjin, who gives her a cheery thumbs up. 

“He says he’s fine,” you inform her, “but he’s got about two more hours before the fever-reducer wears off and then he’s gonna be useless again.”

“Thank you for the warning,” she tells you, while Seokjin squawks from the living room, “I am not, and have never been, useless!” 

You give Minji a quick hug goodbye and head for the front door. 

You meet Seokjin’s eyes as you pass through the living room. They’re sharp, now that the fever’s receded, locked on you and looking. 

“Feel better,” you tell him. “Make sure you hydrate.”

“Hey,” he says, making himself comfortable against the couch cushions, “thanks.” Then, an afterthought - “Seriously. Thank you.”

You give him a tight smile and slip out the front door.

Going home doesn’t stop you from worrying, even though you know Minji is home and capable of taking care of everything. But at work the next day, your eyes keep darting to your phone screen, as if you’re expecting updates on how Jin is feeling, if everything is okay at the house. 

No one texts you. 

You can’t ask Minji. She’s too fucking smart. If you so much as said, “Hey, is your brother feeling better?” she’d be all over it. 

You try your mom instead, texting her, “How’s Mr. Kim doing? Any updates?” 

She answers, “Haven’t heard anything!”

You groan, tapping the corner of your phone on your desk in frustration. You try to focus on work for a little bit, but it’s truly a lost cause. With a defeated sigh, you open your phone and thumb through your contacts. 

Kim Seokjin. 

You’ve had his number in your phone since you got it - your mom was the one who programmed it in for you when you were fourteen, citing Jin as someone you could call if you had an emergency. As if by being two years your senior, he qualified as a helpful adult. 

You haven’t used his number in over five years - not since you were still in college, probably. 

Actually, you realize, you remember the last time - though there were definitely parts of the night you didn’t remember. 

It was your senior year, the first weekend of December, and you and Minji were drinking in some girl’s dorm. You’d never even met this girl before, but there you were, perched on her desk with a bottle of flavored vodka in hand, watching her LEDs change color along the ceiling.

You and Minji were both wasted, even though it was relatively early - not even midnight yet. You leaned against each other, holding the other up, both of you giggling and tapping around on your phones as the conversation flowed around you.

That’s what had happened - you’d noticed it was about to be midnight, the clock about to change from 11:59. And despite being so drunk that Minji was mostly propping you up, so drunk that you had to close one eye to read the letters of this girl’s alarm clock, so drunk that you’d be throwing up in just minutes - a little part of you brain informed you that midnight meant it was officially December 4th. 

You’d texted Seokjin happy birthday at exactly midnight, one eye closed to make sure you were typing actual words. He was hundreds of miles away, had graduated and moved out already, and you hadn’t talked since the day the Kims had loaded all of his shit into a rented moving van, about five months ago. 

And he’d answered - “thank you! what are you doing up??”

To which you’d replied, “getting baja blasted with your sister” and he’d replied, “i do not want to know, thank you!!”

And then Minji had looked at you drunkenly and narrowed her eyes. “Who are you texting with that smile?”

The floor had swooped below your feet, and you’d run for the bathroom. Minji had forgotten about interrogating you, and you and Seokjin had never texted again.

Now, at your job, you stare at his name on your phone screen, wracked with indecision. 

“This is ridiculous,” you finally sigh. Behind you, Dale glances over his shoulder to determine if you’re talking to him or yourself. Ignoring Dale, you tap Seokjin’s name and type, “how are you feeling today?”

You don’t even have time to feel nervous about it - his response is almost instantaneous. He sends you a picture of a gaming screen, where he’s clearly playing a shooter POV. He follows it up with the sunglasses emoji. You laugh out loud, trying to keep your chuckles quiet to avoid calling attention to your cubicle. 

“What a nerd,” you mutter affectionately. You type back, “you must be fine then 🙄”. 

Seokjin’s played video games his whole life; it’s one thing you do know about him. How many hours of your childhood had been spent with him, Jungkook, and Minji crowded around the tv in their basement, fighting over whose turn it was to play?Usually Seokjin got to play the first controller (since he was older, stronger, and technically the console belonged to him), which left you and Minji and Jungkook to fight it out over the second one.

But you remember other times, too - especially as you got older - when you’d just sit in silence and watch him play. By the time you were a teenager - fourteen to Jin’s sixteen - Minji was over wanting to join him. She’d argue for use of the tv, and when she lost she’d flounce upstairs to her room to sulk about it. Sometimes you’d join her - usually, you’d join her. But sometimes you’d cast a glance at Seokjin, see if you were welcome. He’d always play it the same - look at you sideways, give you a tiny nod, pat the couch behind him like an invitation. (Seokjin played video games from the floor, letting the base of the couch prop him up. He said he focused better that way.) 

You’d sit, quiet, watching him work the controls, listening to him whine and groan and complain and shout his way through each map. And you’d feel special, because he let you stay after he’d told Minji to fuck off, because he didn’t mind your presence, because sometimes he’d ask if you wanted him to teach you how, even though you always said no thanks. 

You text your mom and ask what she’s making for dinner.

“Why?” she sends back. “Are you asking me to feed you?”

“Maybe,” you send back. 

You join your parents for dinner, “just because”. It’s not that uncommon for you to join them for a meal now and then, considering how close you live. You go because you love your parents and you want a home-cooked meal - definitely not because you know it puts you back in proximity to Jin.

Your mom glances up at you from across the table approximately every four-tenths of a second through the entire meal, until finally you slap your palm on the table and snap, “What?”

She purses her lips, amused. “Nothing,” she says, feigning innocence. “We just don’t usually see you on Friday nights.”

“Jagi,” your dad warns, his voice full of affection. Like he knows it’s a lost cause but he thinks he should try to rein her in for your sake. 

“I’m just saying!” she says, still all innocence, eyes wide. “I’m not complaining! It’s nice to have you here.”

You grumble a response, aggravated that she seems to be onto you. To escape their scrutiny, you rise and move to bag up the full garbage, tying the top of the bag and heading out to the trash cans at the end of the driveway. 

You pause there after hefting the bag up and into the bin, taking a second to breathe. It’s a nice night - the sun has mostly set, the sky deep and dark above you but still clinging to shades of pink down near the horizon. It’s warm, too, for April. 

You’re standing there, arms crossed, watching the sky inch closer and closer to darkness, when you hear a door shut across the street. Your eyes follow the sound immediately, and you see a man’s silhouette do the same thing you were doing - make its way down the driveway, a trash bag in hand. 

Romantic, you think wryly. A garbage date. You stay rooted to the spot, watching as Jin - just an outline, a shadow - tosses the bag into the bin and brushes off his hands. Then, he stops still, seeming to notice you.

You hold your breath, not sure how this will go, and then he starts to lope over, and you exhale in a whoosh.

“Hi,” he says simply, as he gets close enough that you can finally see his face through the dark.

“Hi,” you say around a tiny smile. “You seem better today.”

He scoffs. “I told you it was just a cold. I just needed to sleep it off.”

“I’m glad,” you tell him softly. Maybe it’s dangerous, maybe it’s stupid - to be soft with him. To act like you didn’t already get your answer from him, years ago. To pretend your affection for him is still as pure and untainted as it was when you were a teenager. 

But it feels safer, out here, away from his dad’s house. In there, the memories of that New Year’s Eve are too fresh, too strong - they cling to the air, slide down the walls. The heating unit sighs to life and you hear your own sighs as Seokjin’s fingers danced along your bare skin. The refrigerator grumbles and you hear the grumble of pleasure that originated low in Seokjin’s throat as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. Someone’s footsteps crunch gravel outside, and you hear the crunch of gravel as Seokjin made his way back to the front of the house in the dark, leaving you hidden in shadows, clutching the bricks and gasping for breath.

It’s better out here. In the fresh air, away from that house, the memories are looser, less focused - bike races, raucous laughter, chalk drawings, bouncing beams of light from flashlight tag.

“Thank you for the help yesterday,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s embarrassed. “I know I kind of gave you a hard time.”

“You didn’t,” you say, letting him off the hook. You’ll always let him off the hook, for everything. You always have. “How’s your dad?”

He glances back at the house over his shoulder, like he needs to verify this answer before giving it. “Not so good today,” he admits. “He’s in a lot more pain, starting to get frustrated needing so much help.”

“Hmm,” you deadpan. “A Kim man who gets frustrated at needing help. Interesting.”

Seokjin laughs, full from his belly. “Shut up,” he says, but there’s no ire in it. “Can I help it if I’m a chip off the ol’ block?”

“We’re supposed to learn from our parents’ mistakes,” you tell him, like a reminder. “Not continue them.”

Just then, a car turns around the corner, the headlights casting you in blinding white light before throwing you back into shadow. You both turn to look - since it’s a dead end, traffic doesn’t just pass through here. 

You recognize the car - it’s Minji’s. She parks and pops out, calling hello to you, ignoring her brother. He makes a face at you like, what am I, chopped liver? 

“I have your mom’s tupperwares, do you want to take them?” she asks, pressing the lock button on her key fob and making the car behind her beep once, loudly. 

“Sure,” you say, following her into the house. A glance over your shoulder tells you that Seokjin is following, too, a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets. 

Inside, Mr. Kim is sitting sideways on the couch, his leg propped up on a small stack of pillows, a bag of ice over his knee. He perks up when he sees you, lowering his phone away from his face and pushing his spectacles further up his nose. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” he asks. “I’d come hug you, but -.” He gestures at his leg.

“I’m doing fine,” you assure him. “I heard you had a rough day today.”

Mr. Kim shoots a dark look at his son, who looks innocently at the ceiling. “Just a little pain today,” Mr. Kim demures.

Seokjin glances at his phone. “We might want to get you upstairs soon,” he tells his father. “You know you’ll be asleep in about fifteen minutes, so unless you want to spend the night on the couch…”

You watch, feeling awkward and unable to help, as Seokjin helps his dad swivel and stand, an arm over Seokjin’s shoulders. They make their way slowly and laboriously up the stairs, and you feel a little anxious watching. 

“Are they okay?” you ask Minji as she returns from the kitchen, pushing your mother’s empty tupperware back into your hands.

“They’re fine,” she says easily. “It takes a while but they’ve got it down to a science. Hey, listen, do you want to go grab a drink? It’s Friday, and I’ve had a hell of a week, and what I would really like to do is Uber into town and drink like college-Minji.”

You laugh at this. “I’m not sure I’m prepared for the return of college-Minji.”

“Pleaaaaaaaase?” she begs, blinking her lashes at you. “We haven’t gone out together in ages.”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh. “Let me go tell my parents goodbye and drive home and change. Text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”

“Yessss!” she cries, dancing in place a little. You feel a swell of affection for her; you love Minji with your whole heart. You’ve been through a lot together. You’ve been through a lot separately, but always side by side.

There have been many times through your life where you felt like you were clutching Minji’s hand through the fire. 

You still remember clearly the way she’d bounded up to your locker, back when you were thirteen, squealing and excited because the most popular girl in your year had asked her for her number, had invited her over. 

You still remember clearly Minji sobbing on your bed weeks later when it came to light that the girl - who wouldn’t be the last to try - was just trying to get an “in” with Minji’s hot older brother.

“You know I would never, right?” you’d promised her. Stupid, at fourteen, not clarifying that you mean never use you to get to him. Stupid, because then you were sixteen and then eighteen and then twenty-one and then twenty-six and you weren’t sure what you had actually promised - had Minji heard it as I would never get involved with him? 

“I know,” she’d sobbed, reaching one hand blindly to clutch at yours. “I know you wouldn’t.”

And now you’re twenty-eight and the secrets you’ve kept keep piling up - each day you loved him, another pebble atop the pile. The slightest shake could topple the tower, and you’d be absolutely buried. 

You could never let Minji know you loved him. Not when you were fifteen and he was untouchable. Not when you were twenty, and he was the best part of coming home. Not when you were twenty-six, pressed between him and the deck railing. 

Not now, after two years of existing outside his orbit again. 

The bar she picks is small, but quiet - quiet enough that you can actually carry on a conversation from opposite sides of a wooden booth, which is exactly what you do.

What you hadn’t banked on was that Seokjin would join her, sitting on her side of the booth, complaining loudly that he’s not going to come out with you two ever again, he’s never been such a third wheel in his life.

“You could have stayed home with dad,” Minji says, giving him a swift elbow to the ribs. “Don’t be such a complainer. You jumped in on my plans.”

“Can we please talk about something besides your hot coworker, then?” he begs. “Anything, anything else.”

“We could talk about my hot coworkers,” you offer, even though you have none. But this - teaming up with Minji to push Seokjin’s buttons - is a song and dance you know by heart, something you’ve done since practically infancy.

He narrows his eyes at you. “Believe it or not, that’s not better,” he deadpans. 

You laugh, knocking back the rest of your drink and sliding out of the booth to go get another, leaving the Kim siblings to bicker in your absence.

You don’t expect Seokjin to follow; you don’t expect him to press up behind you as you stand at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention. 

But he does, his body heavy and warm against yours. The blood rushes to your pussy so fast it almost makes you mad. All he’s doing is standing in close proximity, can your body get it together?

“What are you doing?” you murmur, trying not to meet his eyes in the mirrored wall behind the bar.

“Minji wants shots,” he answers easily. Like his body isn’t pressed against yours, like he isn’t causing your heart to hammer against your ribs.

“You’re too close,” you manage to say, because it’s the best option you can think of. Better than she’ll see us. Better than you still aren’t close enough. Better than don’t do this if you’re just going to leave again. 

He does catch your eyes in the mirror, then. He must read something honest on your face, because he shifts sideways, leaving you cold. The bartender comes by, takes both your orders. You take your drink back to the table. Seokjin follows with a tray of bad decisions poured into tiny glasses.

Even though he gave you the reprieve when you asked for it, it’s clear he’s got a mission to ruin you. You’re sure of it, more and more sure as the night wears on. Sure of it when you reach for the same shot glass, your fingers brushing, his lingering. Sure of it when his eyes on your face make you so warm that Minji accuses you of having a drunk flush. Sure of it when his foot hooks around your ankle beneath the table, slides up and down your calf, slow and tantalizing, inches from Minji’s stilettoed feet. Sure of it when this causes your breath to hitch and his fingers tighten around his glass and his gaze goes to the opposite wall, anywhere but towards you.

You’re drunk, but it’s Seokjin that’s sending you spinning. 

You’ve made this mistake before, you remind yourself sternly. Nothing good can come of it. 

You excuse yourself and head for the bathroom, a marked up door at the end of a narrow, poorly lit hallway. You grip the sides of the sink and breathe deep, closing your eyes. The room sways and you press your forehead to the mirror, trying to ground yourself. 

“You cannot fuck him again,” you whisper to yourself, eyes still closed. “It wouldn’t mean anything even if you did.”

The alcohol catches up to you as you whisper these words; the truth of them slam you harder than normal. You blink away tears, taking a few shuddering breaths.

“Time to go home,” you tell yourself firmly, turning off the water and wiping quickly under your eyes in case any makeup ran. 

This is what it means to be in Seokjin’s orbit, now: to crash into each other, to fight with yourself - fight with the truth that he doesn’t want you, and then run away scared until he’s too far away to hurt you again. Spin idly along until the next time your circles cross paths. Do it again.

He’s in the hallway when you emerge, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. You have to pass him to get back to the table. He pushes off the wall when he sees you coming, stumbles a little. A tiny, sensible part of your brain whispers that he might be drunker than you are as you sidle into his personal bubble.

“What are you doing, Seokjin?” you ask him for the second time that night. 

His eyes comb your face. You don’t know what answer he’s looking for, what question he’s secretly asked you in his mind. 

“You tell me,” he retorts, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, but speaking somehow brought him looming closer and you’re drowning in the smell of him, the warmth of him, the desire to feel his body hard against yours again, to feel him split you open again, to have his mouth hot on your skin again -

You close your eyes, sag a little. His hands come to your elbows quickly, holding you up. “You’re confusing me,” you whisper, and then look up at him through your lashes. 

There’s something aching on his face, and then he whispers back, “I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so sorry - I never meant -.”

The click-clack of high heels approach and round the corner. You and Seokjin leap apart like you’re burned, your arms tingling where his fingers had been.

It’s not Minji. The stranger murmurs an apology and brushes past you both, towards the bathroom.

Spooked, startled out of the moment, you turn to head back to the bar, back to Minji. 

Seokjin grabs your arm, pulls you back. You teeter back a step, then look at him expectantly as you regain your balance.

Seriously, so seriously, he tells you, “I swear, I never wanted to hurt you.” Then he releases your arm with a tiny push, guiding you back out of the dirty hallway and into the light.

You Uber home alone. You brush your teeth, remove your makeup. You change into pajamas, drink a glass of water. 

You wake up to your phone buzzing incessantly next to your head.

[10:14 AM] Jin 😎: oh [10:14 AM] Jin 😎: my god [10:14 AM] Jin 😎: i think i am dead? [10:15 AM] Jin 😎: are you dead too? are we ghosts? [10:15 AM] Jin 😎: can ghosts throw up??? 🤔

You giggle despite your own headache. 

[10:15 AM] You: whats wrong old man, you can’t hang anymore?? [10:16 AM] Jin 😎: WOW [10:16 AM] You: 😇

You check all your other socials, answer a few emails, and then finally drag yourself out of bed and head for a hot shower. As you stand beneath the hot water, you think about your first hangover, when you were sixteen. 

You’d woken up next to Minji on her basement floor, a hoodie balled up beneath your head like a pillow. You’d closed your eyes again, hoping the splitting pain in your head and the roiling adrenaline in your stomach were a bad dream. 

They were not.

You spent most of the next hour in the basement’s tiny bathroom, curled up on the floor next to your porcelain jail. When you felt like you could stand, you rinsed your mouth and pulled the pillow-hoodie onto your body, taking comfort in the way it swam on you, the hemline brushing your thighs just below your cutoffs. 

You’d made your way upstairs, hoping to sneak past Mr. Kim and your own parents and make it unscathed to your own bed. You wanted nothing but to sleep for the next fourteen hours. Or years. 

You got busted at the top of the stairs. Luckily, it was Seokjin bustling around the kitchen, not his father.

He had taken one look at you and started laughing, low in his belly. “Too much fun?”

“Shut up,” you’d whined, literally covering your ears against the noise. “Or I will throw up again, I promise.”

Jin had smiled at you, open and easy. “Sit down, kid,” he’d said kindly, jerking his head towards the kitchen table. “I have an age-old remedy.” 

And actually? It had worked.

After drying your hair and throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt, you scavenge your kitchen. You have most of what you need, and you toss it all into a tote bag and hunt for your keys. You finally find them on the floor next to the kitchen counter - chances are you’d tossed them at the counter last night and missed - and head out.

Your parents are home when you let yourself in. They both stare at you, baffled, then exchange a sly, knowing look.

“You’re back, I see,” your mom says, something sneaky in her tone.

“Do you have any bean paste?” you answer. “I’m going to go make Minji hangover soup.”

Only one word was a lie.

This makes your mom laugh, and she rummages in her cabinets and helps you complete the list of ingredients you need. 

The Kims’ front door is locked, so you make your way around the side of the house and fish the key out of its hiding spot, letting yourself in the side door that leads to the kitchen. 

The house is still and quiet, and you try not to clang any pots and pans as you get to work. When you finish, over an hour later, you set up the table - a bowl of hangover soup, and a mug of steaming hot coffee, black.

You text Seokjin, “come to the kitchen”, and set your phone back down, turning to start on the dishes. 

You’re informed of his presence by his laugh. You turn, hands red under the hot water and covered in suds, to see him sitting down at the spot you’d set up. He looks up at you, amazed, an uncertain smile playing across his face. 

“It’s an age-old remedy,” you tell him seriously.

“You are…” he trails off with a quiet laugh and reaches for the coffee. 

You’d love to know the end of that sentence. 

When you finish the dishes - save for the pot with the remaining soup, still on the stove for when Minji wakes up - you pour your own mug of coffee and sit across from Jin, watching as he finishes his soup. He closes his eyes and sighs happily, then sets down his spoon reverently.

“Thank you,” he says, like a prayer, but also like a joke. “That was so needed.”

“Consider it payback,” you tell him. 

It feels different, sitting across the kitchen table. Different than sitting across that booth at the bar. Less charged. Like it wasn’t something physical burning between you, like you’d thought, but the need for catharsis, for apology. Even if you don’t know what he’s sorry for, even if you still don’t know what exactly happened with him two years ago.

He’s thinking about it too, apparently. He says your name quietly, and you look up to meet his eyes. You can read the apology all over his face. The house is still still and quiet, no one awake but you and Jin. Like no one exists but you and Jin.

You’ve felt that way before.

Sitting beside him in the basement. In the passenger seat of his car, driving through a rainstorm. In his backyard, in the dark, your breath visible in the air as it leaves your mouth in desperate puffs.

“I kind of wanted to talk,” he admits, and your stomach twists. Maybe you should have had some of the soup. “About -?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quickly, already standing, already moving to gather up the tote bag you’d used to carry ingredients. You shrug back into your jacket, ignoring Jin’s wide-eyed look of surprise. “I should get going,” you say, still not looking at him. You go back to the kitchen door you’d entered through, picking up the key so you can return it to its hiding place outside. You pause on the threshold, turning, eyeing the stovetop thoughtfully. 

“Tell Minji you made the soup,” you instruct, and then you close the door behind you. 

Next ->

Thank you so so much for reading - i hope you like this one as much as I do! Please don't feel shy about letting me know what you think!

Part 2: Retrograde will post next Friday, June 2nd. Hope to see you there!

[timegarten-au]

Kindergala outfit for Carla odile

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → one - be cool, peter parker

vanilla palm trees → one - be cool, peter parker

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ very angsty, mentions of death

a/n ⇢ for the sake of this, let's all just pretend that my tasm timeline is accurate! guys please let me know what you think <333 love this and you guys sm!!! like truly! like your feedback and suggestions will be highly encouraged and taken into account! THIS IS 18+ !!!!!

AS HE SAT IN HIS DIMLY LIT ROOM, listening to the dancing melodies of classical music, Peter Parker would never care to admit that his life was completely and utterly depressing. 

When his best friend Harry would see him sulking, better yet wreaking of his dull life, Peter would say something along the lines of,  ‘It’s not completely sad’ before failing to pinpoint the little amount of good he still had going for him. 

‘God, what a sad kid.” Harry would joke, but Peter never once found it funny. 

He swore up and down his life didn’t even suck that bad. Like, actually. He could look at the cityscapes in his apartment adjacent to his 80k-a-year institution. That was always a plus! Especially to drown out his roommate and girl..friend each weekend, forcing Peter to shove a pillow over his head to drown them out.

Alright, maybe it does suck. But.. just a little bit.

His roommate and Carmen were at it like rabbits…again. This time, Peter threw on his earbuds to drown out the uncomfortable noises pouring through the walls.

It wasn’t even 10PM yet. Harry had broken their rule. “Guests” were allowed between 10PM-12AM Fridays, and sleepovers could not go past 10 AM. 

Peter muttered under his breath as he attempted to get more work done. The pounding and thudding of his wall let him know maybe it was time to take a break. 

He reached over to grab and rested his camera on the pane of his foggy window, wiping condensation off as he found the perfect muse. Most Friday late nights, Peter watches out his window as people enter and leave differently from how they entered. 

Whether they were drunk off of their ass, stumbling into a cab with the help of friends or others nearby, or even completely sober. Sometimes leaving is more than just a party of one. 

All of his life, Peter was an observer. Peter always lingered on the sidelines wherever he went. He didn’t mind capturing the essence of everyone else. It taught him more about others and made him more aware of people's character. Although his friend seems like a douche, Harry is caring. He just has an odd way of showing it. 

As he captured the picture of people passing on the city street, he heard the two next door begin to die down a bit. Harry was Peter’s best friend since kindergarten. He was always the boy next door, a star athlete, and always on the front lines, Peter’s direct opposite. It almost didn’t make sense, their friendship, but it worked. They both loved their dynamic and were always there for each other. 

He had been there since the beginning (even before the campus fame got to his ego) and was there for the worst of it all. Especially 4 years ago. And to Harry, right now, there was nothing worse than watching his best friend sit alone in his new apartment on a youthful Friday evening.

With three sharp knocks, Harry entered Peter’s room with a sly grin creeping on his face, “All I’m saying is no senior in college with at least half a brain is studying on a Friday night. Especially right before Thanksgiving break.”

“Jesus, Harry. You couldn’t wait 2 hours to bring Carmen over?” Peter remarked after turning in his desk chair to face Harry. 

“Sorry, Parker, she has an early morning. She’s gone now,” he apologized, buttoning his shirt and shaking his arms to lower his dress shirt sleeves. “But you don’t. Let’s go out, you and me, what do you say?”

Letting out a deep huff, Peter lowered his camera and turned around in his chair, “Should you be going out considering you almost lost your academic scholarship from partying your ass off all of last year?”

“Considering what’s coming up, I’m going to ignore the ass-hole territory dig you just took at me,” Harry remarked. “And would you drop the whole grumpy act for once? Have fun with me tonight, please?” 

“Your definition of fun is not my definition of fun.”

“Pfft,” he scoffs. “How so?”

Peter narrows his lids, “Getting high in the back of your car and hooking up with the closest girl within reach is not my definition of fun.”

“It can be,” he smirks, leaning further against Peter’s bedroom door frame. “Halloween was amazing.”

“No, Harry,” Peter insists before pushing his reading glasses further on his face and turning his chair again towards his desk.

“I know what this is, Parker,” he insists, inching closer to Peter and taking a seat on his bed before forcefully turning Peter towards him in his chair. Peter catches himself from the spin, readjusting himself in his seated position, “You need to get laid-”

“No.”

“Yes, y'know-”

“Harry!”

“...that is why that stick is wedged so far up your ass-”

“Absolutely not-”

“You need a beautiful woman to come over tonight and pull it out, ease you up a little bit.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He asked, walking over to place a hand on Peter’s back and turning his chair around to face the bar across the street. “Have you been over there since you moved in?”

Peter watched as he pointed to the photos dangling by a singular pushpin on his corkboard, “Maybe it's time you stop taking so many creepy photos and get in there, get your groove back!”

Harry moved his hips to an imaginary rhythm, feeling the beat of the bar washing over him in the moment, “That was the most ridiculous thing you could have ever done. Now I am for sure staying right here.”

“You're telling me you don’t get lonely here, by yourself?”

“Not one bit.”

“Your bed doesn’t ever get cold at night? Wouldn’t it be nice just to feel a set of lovely breasts nuzzled atop-” He soothed cupping his hands and placing them close to his face.

“Harry, Enough!”

“Sorry Parker, didn’t mean to hit a nerve.” Harry apologized walking towards his window and glancing down at the business below, horns and lights accessorizing the city streets. “What are you going to do for the rest of the weekend? Besides,”

“Study.”

“Study.” Harry snarked, as they commented in unison, Peter grinning as Harry rolled his eyes at his response,” Figures.” 

Peter picked up his pencil and wrote more notes on his homework, “Come on Peter, don’t be a pain and just join me. One night? Please, that's all I ask.”

He cut his eyes at Harry, glaring at him at him, only for Harry to pretend to beg, squeezing his palms together as he mouthed dramatic pleas. 

“Fine,” Peter gave in. “It has been a while.” 

Harry did a small cheer before moving to his bedroom, “I’m going to get ready.” 

“Did all of your other friends have plans?”

“Maybe. But that’s not important right now!” Harry shouted as he ran into his bedroom and shut the door. 

‘It was too much’ was all Peter could think, walking along the sidewalk as streetlights blinded him alongside his friend. The two passed through gushes of smoke from the burning cigarettes and crowds of strangers on the city street. 

Peter and Harry found their way to Alonzo’s, their neighborhood bar. The bar is dim and secluded by the brick and little surrounding the building. The name was familiar to Peter. The girl whose family owns the place was in Peter’s physics class…and Harry’s bed. 

“Do you have to have sex with all of Manhattan?” Peter murmured, “Do you know if she feels comfortable with us being here?”

“It was so long ago she probably won't even recognize me,” Harry assured as the two approached the front door. “And, sleeping with ‘all of Manhattan’  does help to get free drinks now and then.”

Peter stopped, placing his hands in his pockets as he glanced narrowly toward Harry, “That’s why you slept with her?”

“Slow your roll, Parker. I didn’t know she owned the place until after the fact.” Harry assured as the two entered. “And…she doesn’t own it…her dad does.” He stated so ‘as matter a of fact.’

The place was college kid-infested, with students from all over the city. The loud chatter and music would beat in Peter’s chest as he moved around the room and settled on two stools at a table on the other side of the square bar, squeezing past loads of unhinged college chatter and young, tipsy adults. 

With his shoes now sticky, Peter huffed as he sat, slowly regretting his choice to come out with his friend. Harry moved to the bar, shuffling past the kids surrounding it.  

“Two beers, please,” Harry requested to the woman behind the bar as he settled in his seat, the bartender not moving an inch.

“Ma’am, can we please get two beers?”

“Would you give me a sec, we have a full house this evening-”

The woman turned and stopped mid-sentence as she looked down at Harry. The v-neck clung to her body and was paired with a black apron and casual flair jeans. Her hair was clawed back with a brown clip, overflowing with dark brown curls. Her protruding brown eyes met his, narrowing as anger instilled within her tall stance.

“You.”

“Me,” Harry smirked, adjusting the front of his hair into place as he leaned further in his standing position. 

“Harry, right? 

“Right,” he smiled, twisting his head to the side, raking his eyes up and down along her curvature.

“Two beers, on the house.” 

“Thanks, umm-” he told her, his mouth gaping at the woman. She smiled at him, clicking the pen in her hand before simultaneously dropping it with her smile.

“You forgot my name.” She angered, curving angry lines along with her new frown along her face. 

“No, it’s uh- Give me a moment-”

“Alexis.” she interrupted. I’ll add those to your tab.” 

The two sat and drank beer, after beer, and threw back a couple of shots, the burning sensation still sitting even though Peter was not a tequila virgin. He now found himself alone, trying to pace himself and put some solids in his system.

“Do you ever wonder why he would risk his life? All those years, every waking minute of every day,” the bartender had asked Peter, who was now seated at the bar.

“Who, Spider-Man?” Peter slurred, biting a french fry. “All the damn time." 

"Why do I do it? No clue. Why does anyone do it?” He murmured to himself, swirling the remnants of alcohol in his beer bottle. 

The bartender quirked her right brown and continued counting the cash in the drawer. As she looked down, a woman approached the bar, a couple of seats to Peter’s right. The woman then turned her body, leaving an arm on the side of the bar. 

Booooy was he drunk. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, her skin glistening under the bar lighting. It could have been the drunk goggles, but it didn’t matter. He needed to talk to her. 

The woman pursed her lips, swallowing the remaining liquid from her glass. Peter watched them as she finished the drink. Her speech slurred like Peters, but her eyes were hooked on the bar screen, watching as Spider-Man swung himself from building to building. 

She leaned more over the bar, settling in her hips as she stirred the straw in her glass. As she moved, the clunky jewelry on her wrists and around her neck moved with her. The woman was wearing jeans that hung low on her hips, decorated with flowers along the curve of her ass with pops of reds, purples, and blues. The red tank she wore clung to her skin as she adjusted her stance, matching the flower clip on her head. 

It was time for him to leave, but maybe Harry was right. It's time to get over Gwen. It's been so long, how could he still be so...single?

Harry had wandered off with some of his football buddies about an hour ago, and now Peter was alone near this beautiful, mysterious woman. 

Maybe it wasn't time to head home. Not yet.

Peter chewed the inside of his lip as he turned away from the repetitive clips playing on the local news channel. He leaned his arm on the side of the bar, mirroring the stance of the woman in front of him. She narrowed her eyelids, 

“Hmm,” she hummed, stirring around the straw in her empty drink and looking at the bartender. “I don’t.”

The woman glanced over at the opposite end of the bar, “You have been staring for a long time. Are you just going to stand there, or buy me a drink?”

He took in the woman in front of him. Her subtly yet sweet scent, how her hair fell in front of her face, and even how, “You're engaged.” 

“I’m not. Trust me,” she remarked, pulling the diamond off her ring finger. It would have alarmed sober Peter, but drunk Peter did not care. 

He held eye contact with the woman, “I’m not even supposed to be here right now. I should be at home.”

“So why are you here, then?” The woman asked, inching closer to Peter as she placed a hand on his lower arm. Peter looked down and then back up at the woman, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. 

“See my friend over there at the other end of the bar? He dragged me out to this bar, begging me to bring someone home tonight instead of moping around at home. And that’s why I came over to you. I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Disappoint? Excuse me?” She asked, turning her body as her brows dipped inwards on her face and anger curled upon her lips. 

“No sorry- not like that,” Peter assured, throwing his hands up in worry. “Sorry, I- I am truly, sorry. That is not at all what I meant. It's been a while since I have done this." 

"You saw what I was wearing on my finger, I'm not exactly true to this either." She laughed, and Peter then joined her. "You want to show me exactly what you meant?” 

Peter grabbed the woman’s cheek, pulling her into him as the two melded into one. The hot and stickiness from the college bar air dissipated as he pulled her closer. The woman fell from the barstool and moved her hands behind his neck, taking more control of the kiss. Peter moved his other hand just above her waist before pulling her away. 

“I think you’re beautiful,” he commented leaving his hand on her hip. “Probably the most beautiful woman here. What if, we got out of here?”

The woman smiled, placing a 20 down on the bar, “I’ll get my coat.”

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 19]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

When it was time to take Haneul back, the boys let you go on your own, knowing that you would want to spend time with Haneul and to give you privacy. But you did drop by the dorm first.

"I'll see you soon, little bear." Jongho smiled softly, patting her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him. Haneul was probably the only person that was allowed to hug Jongho without being punched.

"Bye~" Yunho waved while Mingi gave her a hi-five. The boys all doted on Haneul like she was their own sister.

"See you soon, my baby star." Seonghwa grinned and engulfed her in a big hug, making her giggle.

"Promise you'll buy me yoghurt next time?" Haneul looked up at Hongjoong. Hongjoong bent down until he was at the same eye level as she was.

"I'll buy you all the yoghurt you want." He promised. She squealed, looking up at you happily.

"Go to Wooyoung oppa. He's sad." San softly ushered. Haneul ran and hugged Wooyoung's leg. Wooyoung pouted, lifting her up in his arms to shower her in kisses.

"Why are you sad?" Hanuel put her hands on Wooyoung's cheeks.

"I'm gonna miss you, my princess." He said, lightly bumping his forehead against her own.

"I'm gonna miss you too, oppa." Haneul replied, hugging him and resting her chin on his shoulder. Wooyoung pouted sadly, his bottom lip jutting out.

"We'll see each other again. When your unnie brings you to stay, we'll all go and play together." Wooyoung said. He knew he was supposed to be the assuring adult in this situation, not the sad one that's acting like he won't see her again. But he had obviously grown very close to Haneul and vice versa.

"Alright, let's go before we miss our train." You held her hand. The boys walked you both to the door. She waved to all 8 Ateez members before walking away with you.

"Did you have fun with the oppas?" You asked her. She nodded her head excitedly.

"I want to see them again!" She grinned up at you.

"Sure. Next time I pick you up, we'll come visit them. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to see you and play." You chuckled.

"That means Seonghwa oppa can make me more bunny pancakes!" She jumped up and down, happy at the prospect of having another slightly deformed bunny pancake.

"I guess so." You replied with a laugh, buying the train tickets. You were both right on time, the train already at the platform, waiting for passengers to board. Haneul walked in front of you as you tried to find your seats.

"Here we are." You stopped her. Haneul climbed into the inner seat, preferring to look out the window.

"You've been with me for almost 3 weeks, baby." You told her.

"And I had a lot of fun, unnie. We played and ate a lot of food. Thank you." She looked up at you. You immediately melted, reaching out to put your hand on your head.

"You're welcome, baby." You said softly, stroking her hair. You wanted to apologise for not being able to let her live with your permanently.

One day. One day, you can have Haneul live with you. You just needed more stability in your life and job first before you can care for another human being, much less a growing child.

"Baby... Do you ever wish you had an omma and an appa?" You asked her. Haneul shook her head without needing the think.

"You don't?" You were surprised by her answers. Sure, she lived at the orphanage but you knew that her peers in kindergarten all had parents and a happy family.

"I don't want an omma and an appa. I have you! But Wooyoung oppa said that Seonghwa oppa is omma and Hongjoong oppa is appa. So I have you, Seonghwa omma and Hongjoong appa. That's 3! While others have 2! And I have all the other oppas. That's a very big family." She reasoned.

"Yeah... It is a big family..." You replied. How could Haneul and you integrate into the Ateez family so easily? But while Haneul accepted it, there was a part of you that was still scared and wary of it.

"You like the oppas, right?" Haneul asked.

"I do." You replied.

"So they're your family too?" She continued. Family was suppoed to be forever. Your own parents didn't stick around. You didn't want to lean on them only for this to be temporary.

"Wow, Haneul. Look at the horses!" You pointed out the window. She turned to press her hands on the glass, looking at the animals.

Although you felt bad for distracting her, you didn't want to lie to her either. But that was your own convictions. Now, you were supposed to enjoy time with Haneul. You leaned over to watch the animals with her, resting a hand on her back steadily.

"Careful." You helped Haneul down from the seat when the train arrived at your stop. You bent down to wrap an arm around her, afraid she might fall from the train stopping too abruptly.

"Jump." You instructed and she jumped over the small gap between the train and the platform giddily. She immediately held your hand.

"Can we get ice cream before we go back?" She asked.

"Of course." Even though Haneul had ice cream with the boys last night, you couldn't say no now.

"Which flavour do you want?" You held her up to the glass for her to see all the flavours. You read out the flavours to her since she still had some trouble reading the more complex Korean letters.

"Strawberry! With cookie crumbs, please." She decided. You gave her order to the staff scooping.

"Here you go." The male came out from behind the counter to give the ice cream to Haneul. She received it with two hands, her eyes sparkling at the sweet treat in front of her.

"What do you say?" You prompted.

"Thank you for the ice cream, mister." She chimed, running to sit at one of the tables so she could quickly dig into her ice cream. The staff smiled at her, ruffling her hair before straightening up to attend to you at the cash register. You paid for Haneul's ice cream and grabbed some napkins for her.

"Thanks." You smiled to the guy and went to sit with Haneul. Instead of sitting beside her or opposite her, you lifted her to sit in your lap, your arms loosely sitting around her waist.

"Is it good?" You asked, wiping her mouth. She nodded and held a spoon out to you for you to take a bite.

"Good?" She looked at you.

"It's amazing." You smiled as you ate the ice cream. You weren't a fan of sweets but you would gladly indulge Haneul just to see her adorable reaction.

When Haneul finished her ice cream, you both headed to the orphanage. You walked in with her and saw the ahjumma there.

"Ahjumma, how are you?" You asked.

"Better." She replied briefly with a nod, never one to have a conversation with. You turned around and bent down to Haneul, giving her a tight hug.

"I'll see you soon, baby. If you need anything, you know to contact me. I'll come right away. I love you so much." You said softly.

"I love you too, unnie." Haneul replied. After you let her go, you passed an envelope of money to the ahjumma with an awkward smile. You patted Haneul's head as she walked in. It took you a lot of will power to turn and walk away.

Letting out a shaky breath, you slipped your mask on and made your way back to the train station. Behind your mask, you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to stop yourself from getting emotional.

"Stop crying so much." You scolded yourself, hitting your fist against your thigh.

The train departed from the station and very soon, you were heading back to your home. But you didn't expect someone to be waiting there for you.

"Mings? What are you doing here?" You blinked in confusion. He was wearing a mask and cap worn low but you recognised him.

"Wait, let's go up. It's a little open here." You led him upstairs to your home, not wanting fans to see.

"Thanks." Mingi removed his shoes and stepped into your home. He didn't think that you would just invite him into your home like that. But to be honest, Mingi wasn't thinking when he left the dorm to come here. Before you could offer him a drink, Mingi grasped your arm, tugging you to him to hug you tightly.

"What..." You were confused, still unsure why Mingi was at your house to begin with. He was gentle with his hold on you, leaning down slightly so the side of his head pressed against yours.

"Are you okay...?" You asked, a little cautiously.

"I thought you might need some comforting... With Haneul going back. So I wanted to check on you." He explained.

"Oh." You finally understood. You lifted your arms to hug Mingi back, grateful that he came down and waited for you just to see if you were okay. There was a slight warmth in your chest.

"Thank you, Mings." You said, muffled against him. When you let him go, Mingi took a step back.

"I'm fine. I mean... I am a little sad that she's not able to stay with me and I miss her already but I'll be okay." You patted his arm.

"Don't keep things in." He placed a hand on your head.

"I won't." You pulled off your mask to smile at him, knowing he was referring to the promise that you made with him to not keep your feelings in anymore. Mingi sat on the couch while you got him a drink from the kitchen.

"Thanks for entertaining Haneul while she was here. She had a great time with all of you." You handed him the drink before taking a seat beside him.

"There's no need to thank, I'm glad she had a good time with us. The last kid we had around us was Wooyoung's brother." Mingi said.

"She did. I think you guys get along because she's nearly 5 and you guys are all mentally 5 year olds." You snickered. Mingi shot you a flat look while you continued laughing.

"But Jongho was so sweet with Haneul." You added.

"I think she and Yeosang are the only ones that he allows to hug him. Without getting socked." Mingi snorted.

"Actually, would you like to stay for dinner?" You blurted out, rubbing your hands on your thigh, suddenly feeling nervous with Mingi next to you for some reason.

"Sure. We can order take out so you don't have to cook. You've had a long day." Mingi suggested.

"No need... That's if you don't mind eating simply... I think I'm too used to cooking meals now since Haneul's been with me for 3 weeks. I don't really want her eating takeout or outside food too much." You rubbed the back of your neck, realising you might sound like a strict or paranoid parent.

"I don't mind, I'll eat anything." He smiled.

"Except vegetables." You corrected with a teasing smile. Mingi blushed, knowing that he had been caught.

"I think you know too much about us. If you ever go to the media, they're sure going to have a field day with what you know." Mingi raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you guys can do the same. You know what the mysterious Producer Indigo looks like and acts like." You nudged him lightly.

"That's true." Mingi rubbed his chin as if he was actually contemplating it.

"I'm going to take meat out to thaw." You punched his arm and rolled your eyes before shuffling over to the kitchen to take things out of the freezer. You didn't really know what to cook yet.

"What are you gonna cook?" Mingi asked, coming over to see you just take things out of the freezer and fridge, piling them onto the counter.

"Not sure... looks like it'll be a mix of stuff. Beef jeon, japchae, dak galbi..." You listed as you checked on which vegetables were going bad. When you had a lot of vegetables going bad, they would end up in a japchae or some sort of fried rice.

"Those all sound good. I can help with some of the cooking tasks. I may not be the best cook but I promise I'm not as bad as Hongjoong hyung." Mingi chuckled and rolled his sleeves up.

"I'm sure Hongjoong would not be pleased to hear you dissing his cooking skills." You giggled.

"He knows he's bad. He practically went viral for his bad cooking skills." Mingi scoffed, walking to the sink to wash his hands.

"Alright, I trust you." You said. That's how you and Mingi began to work in the kitchen together. You have to admit, he was right, he did kind of know his way around food and the kitchen.

"My parents own a restaurant, you know?"

"I wouldn't know because you've never taken me." You scoffed, meaning for it to be a joke.

"I'll definitely take you next time for dinner. My omma would love you." Mingi promised. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words but luckily Mingi was facing the other way and couldn't see you get flustered by his words. He did the prep work and all the cutting while you made the marinades and sauces.

"Should I start frying the jeon while you continue the dakgalbi?" You asked. Mingi nodded, pouring the marinade that you made for the dakgalbi into the bowl with the chicken and vegetables.

"Be careful." Mingi cautioned as you began to shallow fry the battered pieces of beef.

"I got it." You assured. Since the beef jeon was thin, they were done relatively quickly. You put them on a paper towel to dry.

"The japchae noodles are done soaking, I'll start assembling everything together." Mingi said. You stir fried the dakgalbi and Mingi finished up the japchae.

"Oww, it's hot!" Mingi complained as he tossed everything in the bowl. He only had plastic vinyl gloves on which were not very heat resistent.

"Just use the tongs." You laughed. You went to the drawer to get out the tongs for him to use.

"You're okay with cheese right?" You asked.

"Love cheese." Mingi replied. You turned off the flame for the dakgalbi and sprinkled cheese on the top before closing the lid. The residual heat would melt the cheese. You and Mingi placed all your completed dishes on the table.

"We have japchae but want some rice?" You offered. Mingi stood next to you at the rice cooker as you scooped the rice into bowls. After that, you finally sat down to eat.

"Wow." Mingi took his phone out to snap a picture. He wouldn't tell the members that he was here but it was a memory for him. The first time he cooked with you and the first time he was at your house.

"Enjoy." The two of you sat opposite each other and dug in.

"Mmm, that's good." Mingi melted as he took a bite of food. You nodded in agreement.

"Everything tastes so good." It was a joint effort and cooking with Mingi made the process so much more fun. It didn't feel tiring at all and you both cooked such amazing dishes.

"You should cook more often, you have potential." You told him, swallowing your food.

"Nah, I don't have the interest for it, which is why my omma always laments. Wooyoung is interested in cooking, that's why he does it more and has that cooking segment that he does. Seonghwa hyung... I think it just comes to him because he is naturally like a mother to all of us." Mingi said.

"Haneul keeps saying Seonghwa is an omma, not an oppa. And she says Hongjoong is appa. You guys are teaching her your bad ways." You laughed, shaking your head.

"She's the newest member of the family, it's only right that we teach her of the different roles." Mingi shrugged.

You and Mingi continued to happily chat as you ate. It was all light hearted conversations, nothing too heavy. You and him shared a lot of laughs.

"Let me help with the dishes." Mingi stood up. You were putting the leftovers into containers.

"No, it's okay." You shook your head.

"If you're about to go into a whole thing about me being a guest and how you can't possibly ask me to do the dishes, save it. We cooked together, we will clean together." Mingi was quick to refute. You sighed but gave in to him.

"It'll be easier if I wash and you dry since you know where everything goes." He said, bringing the empty dishes to the sink while you continued to pack the leftovers to put in the fridge.

"You should wear an apron. You're gonna wet your clothes." You adviced, noticing the front of his shirt already slightly wet.

"It's fine. It'll dry. And I'm headed home after this anyway." He waved you off.

"Suit yourself." You took the washed dishes from the rack and dried them, putting them back. When the dishes were done, you and Mingi sat down for some tea to end the evening.

"It's getting late, I should head back since I have a schedule tomorrow." Mingi said. You nodded your head, not wanting him to go back so late since he was on his own and to not be tired during his schedule tomorrow. You walked him to the door but your heart felt heavy at the thought of him leaving.

"I'll see you soon?" Mingi tilted his head.

"Yeah, I'll move my stuff back to the studio and go back to working from the KQ building." You said.

"If you can't move everything, don't do it and hurt yourself. I'll come with the boys to help you transport whatever you need." He smiled and you hummed.

"Thanks for coming by to check on me and having dinner with me. I had fun and I really appreciate you doing that for me." You confessed.

"Don't thank me, Indigo. I would do it any time for you." Mingi said softly. In all honestly, he didn't want to leave too.

"Be safe on your way back. Let me know when you're at the dorm." You said, leaning against the door frame. Mingi nodded but made no attempt to move. Why did his feet feel like they were glued to the floor? He couldn't will himself to move.

"Ah, screw it." Mingi cursed.

It happened so fast. Mingi cupping your cheeks and leaning down to press his lips against yours. He teeterd you back into the apartment, closing your front door shut with his leg.

"M-Mingi." You gasped as you both pulled away. But his forehead remained pressed against yours while you caught your breath.

"I'm sorry." He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

"No, don't be sorry..." You assured. Mingi opened his eyes to stare into your own.

"I shouldn't-" You tip toed, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again, cutting him off. Mingi's arms wound around your waist, squeezing the flesh as he melted into your kiss.

"I'm not going back to the dorm tonight." Mingi murmured, pressing his face into your shoulder. Although you would have usually persuaded him to go back since he had a schedule in the morning, you wanted to be selfish just this once and keep him with you. You wanted to have him near you.

"That's fine with me." You replied, your hands moving to wrap themselves around him.

~

Series Masterlist

[buckrecs]

2022 Bucky Barnes Fic Rec 1

masterlist | req masterlist

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

✨ - fav fics

Status - Completed

✨sunrise from @wkemeup

Veteran!Bucky x Librarian!Reader

After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU)

parent-teacher conference by @coffeecatsandcandles

Single Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.

whatever it takes by @wienerbarnes

Bucky x Doctor!Reader Doctor AU

The Avengers recruit you, a medical genius of sorts, to help solve the case of an agent who is dying from an unknown illness. You seem to catch Bucky Barnes’ attention.

seven thirty by @nacho-bucky

Single Dad!Bucky x Reader

You were planning on a productive — if lonely — weekend, but the little girl across the hall has different ideas about how you and Bucky Barnes should be spending your time.

call me when you want by @bonky-n-steeb

Bucky x Reader

When you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person.

steel blue by @youlightmeupfinn

Professor!Bucky Barnes x Reader

When you experience the most intense night of the summer alongside Bucky, who you nickname Steel Blue, you weren't expecting to fall pregnant. When a positive pregnancy test meets your eyes a few days before school starts, you know it belongs to the man who you'd never see again. Until you walk into your Romanian Linguistics class and he's your professor.

✨heart and soul by @all1e23

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Alphas only brought trouble. The only thing they are good for is bringing their Omega’s pain and forced submission. They were dangerous, reckless and cruel. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness in any of them.  She didn’t need an Alpha, and she certainly didn’t believe in that True Mates fairytale. That was just some fabricated fable Alphas made up to trick innocent doe-eyed Omegas. She wasn’t going to fall for that.  Not again.No Alpha would ever get her to believe that love truly exists. And then, James Buchanan Barnes walked into her life.

✨astrophile by @all1e23

Firefighter!Bucky x Reader Single Dad AU

Orion Rebecca Barnes's favorite thing in the whole world (besides her daddy of course) is spending hours after school in the bookstore by her house and the owner GIVES her any book she wants; she’s the coolest girl Orion has ever met.

✨swallow by @all1e23

Biker!Bucky x Reader

Since he was fifteen years old, Bucky Barnes has only been sure of two things; the club should be the most essential thing in his life, and he’d burn it all down for you.  

between the star by @all1e23

Bucky x Reader Past Steve x Reader Military AU

Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected

the slip up by @justkending

Bucky x Single Mom!Reader

After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.

✨the love club by @slyyywriting

Bucky x Mob!Reader

Bucky gets initiated into the mob life by accident. He wants out but only the owner can revoke his club membership.

the number one rule by @justkending

Bucky x Rogers!Reader

Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left. But don’t worry, the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized?

✨delicate edges by @wkemeup

Biker!Bucky x Florist!Reader

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

not me by @simsadventures

CEO!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Billionaire/entrepreneur Bucky is married to seemingly timid and meek wife, the reader. While he hates her with all he has, she tried to act her part as the wife of the big CEO. And while their relationship falls apart more and more, they both realised there might be more to the story than they previously believed. Will they be able to repair the damage that’s been done, or will they find happiness in somebody else’s arms?

✨the perfect fit by @mypoisonedvine

Bucky x Tailor!Reader

bucky needs a new suit (or two) and gets a recommendation from his best frenemy, tony stark.  of course it would turn out that you were his tailor, and further, that bucky would be an awkward stumbling mess as soon as he’s anywhere near you.

seeing red by @mypoisonedvine

Bodyguard!Bucky x Celebrity!Reader

bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

the new recruit by @angstysebfan

Bucky x Reader

You and Bucky have a best friends with benefits relationship, since he is not the “relationship” type. Things go crazy when the new recruit shows up.

✨one last job by @sunriserose1023

Bodyguard!Bucky x Celebrity!Reader

Bucky Barnes is retired. He did a stint in the Army, did a stint as a Secret Service agent, even dabbled in the private sector, but that’s over. Now, he just wants to rest in the solitude he’s found in a cabin in the Adirondacks, with only his memories to get him through the sleepless nights.

✨pride and privacy by @adrinktostopyourthirst

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

the right for you by @real-jane

Bucky x Reader Past Steve x Reader

steve leaves you to pursue a life with peggy. bucky is there to pick up the pieces, and build a life you never could've imagined in order to dream of it.

✨for the love of the game by @pellucid-constellations

College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.

✨undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader

Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

fragments by @subwaysurf45

Bucky x Reader

You always had a soft spot for innocent people who were viewed as monsters, must have been something in your blood. Nothing changed when you were assigned as the new handler for the Winter Soldier, he had just killed his previous one and you happened to be there at the right time to fill in. But what happens when you meet him years later?

wrong choice right places by @mvtthewmurdvck

Mob!Bodyguard!Bucky x Reader

never wanting to work for him or protect his fiancé, falling for you was the last thing he should do—especially when his boss was zemo, who now ran most of the city.

✨mess is mine by @scrumptious-delusion

Boxer!Bucky x Reader

as a date night surprise, your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.

no day but today by @buckysfaveplum

Bucky x Reader

He’s more than content to lock himself away from everyone in the cold emptiness of his apartment. However, the girl in the apartment above him seems to have other plans. The girl who paints on the fire escape and climbs down through his window. The girl who he can’t seem to get enough of.

✨southpaw by @gogolucky13

Boxer!Bucky x Reader

Tied up in the criminal world your godfather has built, you have no reason to leave, until you find one in the man they call Southpaw.

✨ghost of you by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader

Bucky has worked hard to come to terms with his past and enjoy the new life he’s been given. But his mind is still plagued by nightmares of what he’s done and by the face of an unknown woman. What happens when the team is tasked with recovering another Winter Solider, causing Bucky’s past and present to collide in the form of the woman from his dreams?

nostalgia for the new by @real-jane

Bucky x Agent!Reader

bucky meets you because of your exquisite taste in music, and he finds in you a solace he didn't realize was possible. you create for bucky something he's never found before: nostalgia for a time that hasn't happened yet, and hope for a future where he might be loved.

✨to have & to hold by @slyyywriting

Single Dad!Bucky x Mob!Reader

Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(Single Dad!Bucky)

safe with me by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Bodyguard!Bucky x Reader

When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.  

teacher’s favorite by @suitk0via

Single Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.

✨stuck wit u by @slyyywriting

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

You and Bucky don’t get along. Your fights have become too destructive so Tony and Steve decide that enough is enough.

touch of ink by @deamstellarus

Tattoo Artist!Bucky x Reader

After a breakup with your ex, you decided to move to the small town where your long-time friend Sam lives, hoping for a change of pace and starting a new chapter in your life. You were prepared for a slower paced lifestyle, quaint diners, and a change of scenery. However, you didn't expect to be swept off your feet by two stunning pairs of blue-grey eyes.  

✨paper walls by @writingcroissant

Neighbor!Bucky x Reader

Your apartment happens to be right next to Bucky's, heads only separated by a paper-thin wall, leading to you witnessing every second of his nightmares. Although, bonding over your late night conversations, you seem to forget that you never even saw him before.    

✨leave this town by @avengerofyourheart

Mechanic!Bucky x Reader

Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.

✨the world of our own by @shreddedparchment

Bucky x Reader Castaway AU

You and a man named Bucky crash land on a deserted island. Can the two of you come together and make it until rescue comes? After you begin to fall for the mysterious Bucky Barnes, will you even want to be rescued?

yours, mine, ours by @coffeecatsandcandles

Single Dad!Bucky x Single Mom!Reader

Bucky Barnes has been raising his girls, Rebecca and Winnie, for the last two years. He'd lost all hope of falling in love again until he met you, a pediatrician with two children of your own- Elliot and Willow. He falls in love and he falls hard, but the challenges of being single parents still weigh on you both at times. Luckily, you'll always have each other.

we’ll meet again by @coffeecatsandcandles

Bucky x Reader

You fell in love with Bucky Barnes in 1940. He was your everything, until he was taken from you. You’ll meet him again, just not in the way either of you expected…

✨run to me by @sgtjbuccky

Mob!Bucky x Reader

In where you’ve always had a habit of ending up in situations you shouldn’t, and when you caught the eye of the man who ran New York, Bucky Barnes, your life changed. They warned you about him, but the one thing they never warned you about was how you’d always want to run to him.

trick question by @nacho-bucky

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

It’s a weekly battle of wills for Bucky and the Reader, as they navigate the stunning pressure that is pub trivia. Can these obdurate opponents find any middle-ground?

the diner by @bolontiku

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Working at a diner as a waitress, struggling to make bills and take care of the kid your sister left you, one night you meet James.

relax by @kinanabinks

Bucky x Reader

Things with Bucky are easy, and he's the sweetest guy you've been with. But when you throw in a bitter roommate and untold secrets, things get real hard, real fast.

old souls @thedevilwearsvibranium

Bucky x Reader

Your aunt runs an antique shop in the lower parts of Manhattan, and asks you to work in her shop once a week. You happily take the job, but then on your first day you have a strange encounter with an unusual customer - Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Things ensue as the two of you end up becoming friends - and maybe even more - as you reminisce about the old things that you love as well as your mysterious pasts.

breaking the rules by @redgillan

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

time after time by @justsomebucky

Neighbor!Bucky x Reader

AU. When the reader’s parents divorce, her mother moves her to a new  town, right next door to Bucky Barnes. This is their love story.

just a touch by @buckychrist

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader

Your powers? Controlling any feeling a human can have, from emotions to pain, with a simple brush of your fingertips. Your mission? The traumatized soldier with sad stricken eyes and scream filled nightmares.  

[chaotic-dumbass0]

all my blogs because i have many if y'all care where i am

@.chaotic-dumbass0 (this one) main acc, mainly just reblogs

@ask-teenkg teen au for kg

@ask-missinglily-au kg Lily's Missing au

@kg-fightring kg fight ring brackets! currently on break from this one

@kindergarten-hell (as one of the mods, there are multiple people running this one) crossover hell au

@star-kindergala place for interactions for kindergala 2024

@silly-kg-kitties kg but they're cats

@timegarten-au Kindergarten Game x In Stars And Time AU/ Timegarten

@stars-artacc - my art acc

@lotsofhyperfixations - also reblogs, but specifically for hypeefixations (eg, miku, fnf, kg)

[mxcnliight]

studies & sluts (jjk)

who knew all-star baseball player jeon jungkook would be fucking his tutor on a Thursday night

Pairing: Baseball player!Jungkook x Fem!Reader.                                  Theme: One-Shot; college au, SMUT, PWP, fluff, crack (a bit), angst (tiny bit)                                                                                                               Word Count: 6.1K                                                                                Warnings: smug jk; hot jk; sexual tension; dirty talk; swearing; fingering; (f receiving); p in v penetration; unprotected sex + creampie (use a CONDOM)

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The lights shine through the window of your classroom. You’re in 4th period, English. You sigh while putting your head into your head, the class feels like it’s been dragging ever since you started working on your assignment. You had a multiple choice of a passage you have previously read, your teacher was making sure everybody had read the passage before you came into class. Typical teacher things, you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. You look over and see one of your classmates staring at you, Jeon Jungkook. The star of the baseball team who you have known since kindergarten,but he wasn’t always this popular. He was quite shy in his previous grades, he was always trying something new, one thing he did often was draw. Ever since high school started he was in a bunch of clubs and sports, because of that he became popular. Girls fawn over him 24/7 and you were one of them. Sure you didn’t show it but you had the biggest crush on him ever since 5th grade. You tried to get close to him and maybe even get to know him but your chances were taken by multiple girls in your grades. That was until recently, you found out that Jungkook barely studies for tests, and doesn’t care for school at all. Because of this his baseball coach told him if he didn’t study hard enough and get good grades he would be kicked off the team. He was pretty mad about that but he soon got over it. You run as a tutor for the school to get some extra cash along with babysitting and your regular retail job. Once Jungkook found out you ran as a tutor he asked you if you could tutor him. You were shocked at first because, 1 the Jeon Jungkook was asking you to tutor him and 2nd you two barely even talk to each other. You accepted though even beginning, as shocked as you were and you started to tutor him. You were a bit skeptical at first because Jungkook was known for fooling around with girls and not paying them but he did the opposite of what you expected. You guys would tutor once a week on Thursday’s a 4 pm and after the session was done he paid you. He was a regular for you now and you got to know him a lot better than you thought you did. You would even say you guys were friends based on the amount of time you spent together. You focus back onto Jungkook as he looks away. You hear you teacher telling you to turn in your papers and you do so. Once the class was done you talked to you friend before going to your next class. You felt a presence come towards you and you look up to see Jungkook. He holds the strap of his backpack in his hand and purses his lips. He then looks away, “Studying tonight again?” He asks. You give him a confused face, why is he being all different suddenly? He knows when we study, “Um yeah…. 4pm again?” “NO-“ He butts in and I look at him in confusion. His loud answer made everybody around us look at us. Your face heats up in embarrassment and you look away. “8 pm my house, I’ll text you the details' ' He says under his breath and he walks out of the classroom. You look away from him and look back at your friend and she asks “What was that all about?” You shrug your shoulders and look back at the classroom door.

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It was currently 7:45 pm, you were in your room, sitting at your desk. You were studying for a Chemistry test you had before going over to Jungkook’s. His place wasn’t far from yours ever since you moved out of your parents house and got your apartment. You sigh and look at your phone, he was supposed to text you once he was ready but it doesn’t look like he is… at least yet. You were about to set your phone down once you got a text message.

Jungkook: Hey, I’m ready now, sorry it took me so long. Come over when you’re ready.

Y/N: you’re fine!! I’ll be over in a sec

You turn off your phone and get up from your desk. You then go into your bathroom and brush your teeth and brush your hair. You then get out of your pajamas and throw on some casual but comfortable clothes. You then grab your book bag and make it downstairs. You get into your slides and grab your coat from the coat rack. You throw it on yourself and grab your keys, you open the door and go outside. You start up your car and get in, you throw the bag in the seat next to you and adjust your rear view mirror. You look at yourself making sure your makeup is okay before putting the keys in and driving away. You made it to his place in about 3 minutes and you parked your car in his driveway. You see he owned a black pickup truck, must be he needed the space for baseball. You take your keys out of the car and grab your bag. You then get out of the car and you bundle yourself up in your jacket. It was a bit chilly out tonight so it was a good idea to bring your jacket. You then make your way up to his door and knock on it while looking at your phone again. The door opens and reveals Jungkook, his hair was a bit messy and his white tee shirt clinged to his chest. With his black sweatpants and his black slides. He must have just thrown something on like you just did, “Hey, come on in '' He moves and lets you in. You have never been to his house before because you guys usually study at the library after school so it’s weird seeing him like this. You look around and it’s what you expected of a boy, his living room was a bit trashed with pieces of clothing on his couch with a bunch of food lying around. “Let’s not take in my uncleanness, let’s go '' He motioned me and as you walked to his staircase, “Um you need anything? A drink, a snack?” He looked back at you, “No, I’m fine. Thanks for asking” He nodded as you guys headed upstairs into his bedroom. You went into his bedroom and he had red LED lights around the ceiling of his room and his room contained various baseball players posters and a bunch of his awards on his wall. In the corner of his room, beside his closet he had his baseball bag leaning up against it. He had black bed sheets with a queen sized bed. He also had a set of drawers with a mirror on top of it right across it. On the left side of his room he had his desk which had his gaming setup on top of it. He goes over to his desk and pushes his computer and keyboard back a bit. He then brings another chair next to his, he then looks over to you and you make your way over to him. He then grabs his remote control to his led lights as you sit down next to him. He then turns it to a light blue color as he then digs through his bag. “So what are we studying tonight?” You ask, he then sets his science textbook down on the table. “Chemistry” You sigh and nod, “That’s good, I was just studying that?” He nods and flips through the pages. “So are you alright? Not to hot nor cold?” He asks, “No I’m fine” He nods, he doesn’t usually ask you these things, you wonder why he is tonight. “Sorry I couldn’t do it at 4 today, we had baseball practice so I knew it wasn’t going to work” “Oh no it’s fine! I knew your schedule so I didn’t even know if we were going to study tonight” He nods and stops at the page, “Alright so it’s 1-10 right?” You nod as he gets out a piece of paper and starts to write down the numbers. You put your head in your hand again and looked at him, he looked so pretty like this. He still had some of his earrings that dangled from his ears. His hair was also so long that it hid his dark chocolate eyes while he was leaned over like this. You then smelled something strong and noticed it was coming from Jungkook, must be he put cologne on. It smelled nice, it almost smelled like teakwood. He then looked up from the paper and back at the textbook. “Could you read out the questions for me?” He looked at you with his doe eyes and your body tensed up. “M-hm'' You cleared your throat and began to read the first question, “Which subatomic particles are matched with their chargers?” He begins thinking about which answer is the correct one as his hand meets your thigh. Your eyes widened as you looked over at him and he’s just there innocently with his pencil to his lips thinking about the answer. You look away and try to calm yourself, but he’s never done this before, you wonder why he did this. Just then he begins to write down the answer and his thumb begins to rub against the inner part of your thigh. You purse your lips from letting a little whimper out as you try to close your legs. His hand then opens up your legs, rejecting them from clothing and starts rubbing again. “Number 2? Because protons are positives, neutrons are no charge and electrons are negatives” He looks at me with his doe eyes as you clear your throat, “Y-yup, that’s correct” You said, giving him a weak smile. He looks away and you see a small smirk form on his face. “Read number 2” “Which conclusion directly resulted from the “gold foil experiment?”” He began to think again as his hand on your thigh started rubbing again but this time his hand moved up a bit on your thigh. You look down at it and then look away before fake coughing to see if Jungkook has caught onto your hint yet. You look over and see that he hasn’t as you roll your eyes, “Number 1, because Alpha particles went right through the gold foil. Atoms are mostly empty space.” He looks at me and you nod, as he smirks, “I’m getting smarter” You chuckle at his comment, “Must be studying has paid off”. He nods as you look back at the textbook, “The bright-line spectrum of an element is produced when excited-state electrons” You sigh and put your head in your hand again. You then refrain yourself from yawning and you feel Jungkook’s hand slide up again. It was dangerously close to your clothed core as you looked away. Instead of rubbing his thumb like he has been doing he then begins to just rub your thigh with his whole palm of his hand instead. “Number 4 because excited electrons fall to lower energy levels, resulting energy in the form of light” You nod and he smiles, “The elements on the Periodic Table of Elements are arranged in order of increasing” You feel Jungkooks had slip up again, it’s now In between your hip and your thigh. Your breath hitches as he begins to massage it. You clear your throat again and you look over at him, “Number 2 because the order of the PT is based on the atomic number” You give him a mhm as he nods, “Atoms of which element in group 15 have the greatest electronegativity?” You feel his hand completely move on top of your clothed core as your eyes widen. Before he can do anything you stand up and he looks at you in confusion. “You okay?” You look down at him and announce, “Y-yeah, it’s just um… I need to use the bathroom. Where is it?” He then points to the door, “On your right” You nod and walk out of the room.

You make it to the bathroom and shut the door behind you. You look at yourself in the mirror and sigh. You put your hands on either side of the sink, what is he doing?! He has never done anything like this before, or has he shown interest in liking me?! Maybe he just wants to fuck me for his body count. You look at myself and sigh, but would he do that? You mean you think he would know if you're a virgin or not. You sigh and wrap your arms around your waist. You frown, you did like it though. Then shake you head and slap both of your cheeks and look at yourself in the mirror, get yourself together Y/N. You’re only here to study, not mess around. You huff before leaving the bathroom and going into Jungkook’s room again. “I did 5 and 6 while you were gone, you okay?” He asked me, You looked back at him and smiled. “Yeah I'm fine” You then looked over at his answers, “5’s wrong, it's 3 not 4. If you look at Table S it will give the answer” He pouts and looks back at the textbook. He then sighs out of annoyance and erases his previous answer and replaces It for the correct one. Once he was done you began to read number 7, “How many electrons are shared in a triple bond between two atoms?” He then puts his hand back on your clothed core, before you could protest he dips his hand beneath your waistband and puts his hand on your core. Your eyes widened as your breath hitched as his hand moved towards your clit and began to massage it softly. You cover your mouth with your hand trying to stop a moan from escaping your lips. He rubs it more and you throw your head back in pleasure and roll your hips to his hand movements. You look back at him as you see a smirk on his face, You swallow hard and put your hand down on his shoulder. “J-jungkook” “Mhm?” He doesn’t look at me as you tremble in pleasure. “S-stop- '' You say, grabbing on the sleeve of his t-shirt. He takes your wrist in hand and drops the pencil. He then turns towards me and smirks, “Please” he then lets out a breathy moan, “Please, please give in Y/N”. He speeds up a bit with his hand movements as I let out a moan. “It’ll feel so good, nothing else matters…”. He then lets out a low growl and he moves towards your ear, “Now, give in now Y/N, you know you want it”. You look back at him with your lids halfway closed as you see the lust firing up into his eyes. You purse your lips and look down at this scene unfolding. You then let out a whimper and nod. You see Jungkook lick hips lips as he then smirks, “Yes, fuck” he then growled as he took his hand off of your core. You frowned at how empty you felt after his hand left. He then lifted you up into his arms and soon threw you onto the bed. He towers over you and gives me a smirk before kissing me. It was hot and wet, as you let out lewd noises pulling onto the back of his hair. He breaks the kiss and looks down at you. He then takes off your jacket, along with your shirt and bra. You look up at him in embarrassment. Being this exposed makes it worse and you put your hands over your eyes. You hear Jungkook let out a low chuckle, “Your so beautiful baby” He says as he kisses your chest as you slowly remove your hands from your eyes. He then kisses his way over to your breast and begins sucking on your nipple. You let out a rushed moan and your hand landed over his head again. You take a fistful of his hair as his licks and sucks on it. With his other hand he thumbs your other nipple in his hand. Once he was satisfied enough he then began leaving a trail of wet kisses down your body and soon stopped at the waistband of your sweats. He looks up at you with those doe eyes and you nod. He then groans and begins taking them off, once they’re off he throws them and spreads your legs. He licks lips in anticipation and he lowers his head to kiss your inner thigh. You let out a whimper as he leaves a trail of kisses until he makes it to your clothed core. He then smiles, “Cute patines, too bad they’re coming off though” He says as he makes a swift movement and throws them away. His hands hold each other side of your thighs and you whimper, “J-jungkook, you’re” You point at his shirt and you hear him say oh. He then takes off his shirt and your eyes widened and his toned 6 pack. He throws his shirt away and then smirks. “Like what you see baby?” He asked as you nodded. He then leaned over you as your hands ran up his chest to his shoulders. You then look at him and he kisses me. He then breaks away and whispers “Let me touch it” he slides his hand between your folds and we both moan, he then hums as he leans towards your ear. “It’s so wet” You whimper at his response as he then pulls back and touches your clit and you let out a whimper as he moans again. “Yeah, it’s so fucking wet all over your fingers”. He begins to rub your clit harder, you moan as he sighs “I can’t wait anymore baby” You look at him in confusion and you see him step back, he then begins to take off his sweets along with his boxers and his erections springs out. You put your hand over your mouth and oh your god, it’s so big. He climbs back up on the bed again and positions his cock between your folds, “Feels so good baby” He then begins sliding it up and down between your folds as we both moan. “Yeah, so fucking good baby” He lets out a hum as he comes down to kiss you, you do it for a while before he pulls back. “So good” He says before giggling, he then turns serious again and hums. “I want you to take my cock, take it in your hand, slide it up and down your pussy lips. Hm?” He tilts his head as you let out a breathy moan looking back down at it. “Yeah, hold it against your pussy, make me feel it throbbing” You look back up at him with innocent eyes before reaching down and grabbing it in your hand. It’s so big and you have never left something like this before. Jungkook closes his eyes and groans, “Yeah yeah, oh…, like that” He growls he last part as you whimper, “Look at me” He demands, you look back up at him, “Mhm” he lowers his head to your ear, “I want you to be a good girl, slide my cock in hm? Wet from your juices and just slide it in your pussy” You whimper and look back down before slowly sliding it in, you let out a rushed moan as you feel it stretch in. You hear Jungkook moan and whimper. He then groans, “Yeah, slow… make me feel it, I want you to feel every fucking inch” You whimper at his words as you feel the tip go in, “That hardness sliding in your… wet heaven” He hums, “Gripping, milking, wet, sexy, heaven” It begins going all the way in and you both moan over how tight you was. You whimper as he puts his hands on either side of you, caging you in. You look up at him, “Dig your nails into my back when it goes all the way in” He demands as you put your arms around his back, you then put your head into the crook of his neck as we both moan. You feel it hit the back of your pussy, almost to the lower part of your tummy. You dig your nails into his back. He lets out a groan and wraps his arms around your back, “Wrap your legs around me” You do as he says as you remove your head from his neck as he kisses me, he breaks it and lets out a breathy moan. “My cock pressing up against your spot” He groans again, “Yeah baby, the only thing better than being turned on is letting go”. You whimper at his words as he kisses me again, this time more passion and pure lust. He breaks it and begins to thrusts into you, you let out a high pitched moan as he kisses your jawline, “I love fucking you missionary” He mumbles, “Yeah, oh.. So good”. He pushes himself up and looks at you, “There you go… there you go baby. She’s so good. She's so hot, your pussy’s so good” He lets out a breathy moan as you shut your eyes as he picks up the pace just a bit, he then leans down to kiss you again. You moan into the kiss as he starts pounding into me, “Just like that baby. Nice sexy pace” His face makes a lewd expression as he leans down towards your chest, “Give me those nipples” He says before sucking and licking onto one of them. Your eyes shoot open with pleasure as you grab onto his hair. “Fuck Jungkook!” you almost yell. He then does the same to the other while moaning, he then breaks away and lets out a loud moan. “Yeah you like that? That big hard cock inside you?” You nod as he smirks at how fucked out you already were. He then leans back down to cage you in again, “Those hard nipples into my chest fuck, this is why I love when your aroused baby, you want to make my cum deep inside you?” You let out a moan and along with a “Yes”. You hear him chuckle, “Tell me when you’re going to cum baby, I want to cum with you. I want to fill your pussy up with my warm hot cum, mixed with your juices. And then keep fucking you, to feel it that cum from your pussy.” You moan loudly at his words and put your head back into the crook of his neck, “Feel those strong arms around you, pinning your pussy. Fucking you not to fast but nice and deep and hard” He groans as you let out a whimper as you feel him growl into your ear, “Oh fuck like that”. He then begins to whimper, You can tell he’s close now and so were you. You began to clench around him, “Jungkook! Mhm.. I’m c-close” He groans at your answer, “Move your fingers to your clit” You do as he says and start to rub it to the rhythm of his thrusts. “Let me touch it” He says as he brings his finger down to your pussy. “Oh my cock feels so wet, rub your clit and let me slip it inside” You feel his finger slip inside of your hole with his cock and you let out a loud moan. “Stretch it out a bit more… make her fucking cum like that” He then lets out a low chuckle, “Oh it’s so tight… I can feel your wetness all over it. I can feel my cock throb, I can feel your fucking pussy pulse. So hot… tell me when you're going to cum baby cause I want to cum with you” He whimpers then kisses you again. With all of this simulation you feel like you can cum at any time now. “I want you to lock your legs around me when you cum and just keep me there yeah, fucking claim me. Claim me as yours baby” He lets out another loud moan and then begins to chuckle again. Your eyes shoot open as I feel your orgasm coming up, “I’m so close Jungkook!” You almost yell as he chuckles, “Your pussy’s squeezing me, she’s fucking demanding that fucking hot cum isnt she?” He groans as you clench even more of his words. “You gonna cum like that? With my cock and my finger in your pussy?” You nod vigorously as you feel your orgasm come to its climax, “Jungkook I’m coming!” “Cum for me! That’s it baby fucking cum for me!” He growls as you let go and you swear you saw stars. He sighs at the sight of you cumming then his eyes shoot open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna-“ You then throw your head back you feel him cum too, he loudly moans and so do you. You feel it fill you up, creamping you.

You both try to catch our breaths as you feel Jungkook slip out and fall down next to you. You slowly open your eyes and move your head towards Jungkook. He was still breathing heavily as his chest rose and fell. He also looked so pretty like this with his brown long locks sticking to his forehead from his sweat. He put his hand over his eyes and chuckled, “That was so good”. You chuckle too, “Yeah”. He then turns his head towards you and removes his hand, “Yeah, you liked it?”. You nodded, “I didn’t know if you did because you were so god damn quiet, well expect you moaning” You chuckled at his comment, “Yeah, I guess I was just too lost in the sensation” He nods and then pulls you in for a long and hot kiss. This time you break the kiss and your smile fades as you come back to reality. You just fucked Jeon Jungkook… and he was probably was use using you. “You okay baby?” He asked as you nodded. He then got up, “Let me get a towel”. He gets on his boxers and sweats before he walks out of the room. You look down at the floor where your clothes were thrown and reality hits you even more when you pan over to his desk where the textbook was left. You sit up and close your legs before wrapping your arms around your waist. You feel disgusted, he then comes back in with the towel. He comes towards you and climbs up on the bed, “Open your legs for me baby” You do as he says and slowly open your legs. He cleans his cum from your hole with the towel, you watch him as he does and you say something you would never say in your whole entire life, “Are you using me?” You asked. He stops to look up at you, “Huh?”. “Are you using me?” You say this time a bit louder. He sighs, “Baby what the fuck are you talking about?” “You must be using me right? Just for your stupid body count? Because you would never do this with somebody like me”. He sighs and frowns, “What if I’m not though? What if I like you?” Your eyes widened as you looked at him. His face shows he was telling the truth, “You w-what?” “I like you Y/N, okay? I’ve liked you ever since 5th grade. I tried to distract myself with other girls but it just didn’t work. I tried to get close to you but I was taken away by the stupid girls in our grade. I wanted to tell you I liked you but I didn’t know when and how. When you started to tutor me I was so happy that I could finally get close to you. And I thought we were going great so I fucked you. I’m not the best at showing my emotions but I hoped that this would get my feelings over” He then looked at you as you trembled and felt tears in your eyes. You then felt those tears stream down your face as you began to cry. You felt Jungkook come into your arms and hugged you, you put your face into his bare face and cried even harder. He stroked your hair and cooed, “I’m so sorry Y/N if you don’t feel the same way-“ “You should have taken me on a date” You said quietly. He was confused and looked down at me and you chuckled softly, “You should have taken me out on a date idiot” You then lightly punched his chest. He chuckled and gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Well I was going to after we got done but I thought you would take my signals a bit earlier” “I did! Did you not hear me cough?” He then smirked, “I did but I didn’t take that as a yes” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as he gave you a kiss on the head. He then got down to grab your clothes and threw them towards you, “Can you take me home?” He then whipped his head towards me, “Was I that bad?” “Oh no… I liked it, it's just… isn’t it going to be weird if we go into school at the same time?” He chuckled, “That’s the thing that you’re worried about the most right now?” You nodded, and he wiped his face with hand. “See this is why you’re not like other girls Y/N. And why I love you” You faintly blushed and looked away, “You drove here right? So it wouldn’t be us going in at the same time. Unless you want to stay with me?” He said smirking, “Oh, oh no um…” You chuckled a bit, “I forgot I brought my car” “Must be I fucked you that good” You then blushed hard and covered your face with your clothing and threw a pillow at Jungkook. “Ow! Hey! I’m right though?” “SHUT IT” He chuckled at your answer before coming back over to you and removing the clothing from your face and kisses you

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The next day you woke up in Jungkook’s bed alone. Before you went to bed he gave me his extra hoodie and sweats to wear to bed because your clothes were dirty. You opened your eyes slowly and yawned and rubbed your eyes. You looked around and wondered where he was. Just then you smelled something good coming from downstairs, so you went downstairs. You see Jungkook shirtless standing over the oven making breakfast. You smiled and came behind him and gave him a back hug, “Morning baby” “Morning” You said taking in his scent. He still smelled of his cologne like the night before. “Breakfast is almost ready so take a seat” You do as he says and sit down by the island. Breakfast soon came out and he set down a plate with bacon and eggs in the shape of a face. You smiled at his cute details on it, “Hope you like eggs and bacon for breakfast” “Oh no I do” You said smiling at him, as you cut some pieces of egg off with your knife and ate it. “How do you like your coffee?” He asked, going over the Keurig, “With creamer” He nodded and went into the fridge looking for the creamer and poured some into the coffee. He then puts it back into the fridge and gives you your cup of coffee, “Thank you” He nodded and went back over to his spot and sipped his coffee. “So you did like it last night right?” You looked over at him and his face was serious. “Mhm, you were very good” He chuckled and took another sip of his coffee, “Thank baby”. You nodded but just then you realized something, “What are we going to do about uniforms?” He almost spits his coffee out and looks at me. “The nurse usually has a spare but you have to pay for it” You nod and continue to eat your breakfast, “I can pay for it. I forgot about that, unless you want to go home and grab yours” “I will probably do that, I need to grab my school bag anyways” He nods and then pouts “That means I won’t see you until 4th” You giggle and look at him, “You will have to wait then”. He pouts and gives his doe eyes and you just chuckle. “So… are we a thing?” You asked, looking over at him. His eyes widened as he blushed and looked away. “Well I was going to ask you after our date but-” “Our date?!” You exclaimed looking over at him again. “You planned this all out didn’t you?” He chuckles and sets down his coffee,”I did but I can ask you now”. He comes to you and takes your hand in his. “Y/N L/N, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks bowing like a prince. You giggle at his antics, “Yes, I will”. You see him smile and moves up to kiss you passionately. You break the kiss and smile, “Can I use your shower?” “Mhm it’s all your princess” You smile at him and get up to go upstairs but just then he runs up behind me and wraps his hands around your waist tickling me. “BUT YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO WITH YOU” You giggle and laugh at the same time, “COME ON JUNGKOOK, PLEASE LET ME BE” You say laughing even harder, “NOPE LET ME GO WITH YOU” “FINE” You give in as he stops tickling you as you both make your way upstairs.

After you both got done with your steamy shower Jungkook gave you an extra shirt of his and some shorts. He said he would do laundry tonight so he would stop by your place to give you them. You both got ready for school and you both went out of the house to our cars. He stops you before going to your car, he looks at you before kissing you. “See you at school baby” You nod and then get into your car and drive to your house. You felt empty without him, it’s probably because you haven’t had a boyfriend since highschool. Once you arrive at your apartment, you run up your stairs and take off Jungkook’s clothes before getting into your uniform and grab your backpack before going back down stairs again and heading out the door. You soon arrive at school and park your car before walking into the entrance. It was a long wait for the 4th period, you were sad that it would be so long until you would see him again. After almost 3 hours, 4th period arrived. You walk into the class and see Jungkook talking to his friends in the distance. He feels your eyes on him, he turns his head and he smiles then waves at me. You wave back at him before sitting down at your desk. The period was so long but you saw Jungkook catching some glances at you here and then. You were looking at your paper thinking of the answer to question 13 but you see a piece of paper on your desk. You look over at Jungkook and he motions you to open it. It reads, “6 pm at my house tonight?” You smile and write back, “Sure! Text me the plans”. You hand him back the paper and watch his reaction. His face lights up with joy and he nods. Soon the period ended and you went over to your friend. “How was tutoring with Jungkook last night?” She asked. “Oh it was so good” You said smirking, she gave you a confused expression and then said “That’s good”. You smile then nod and I see Jungkook coming your way. You see he had a paper in his hand, he then showed it to you, he got a 54 on his Chemistry test. “Looks like I didn’t pass…  must be I need some more tutoring” He said pouting. You giggle and smile at him, “Or maybe somebody wasn’t paying attention last night” He looks up at you and smirks, “When can I come over again?” “Hmm” You put your finger up to your lips, fake thinking. “How about Thursday next week and at 8 pm again, I have an all county meet at 4 pm” He licks his lips and looks at you from bottom to top. “Yeah? That’s fine… see you then Y/N” He said, giving me a wink before walking out the classroom door.