#little angel who sits on your shoulder. and gives you terrible advice

[mizzyislost]

various sticker designs i made at the request of my friend for christmas

[jungkxook]

—stay. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: popstar!jungkook x groupie!reader + smut / sprinkle of angst and fluff

⟶ words: 8,083

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.

⟶ warnings: multiple smut scenes, slight dom themes, oral sex, finger sucking oops, boob fondling, hair pulling ft. jungkook’s undercut, doggy style, missionary, thigh riding, spitting, jealous kook!!, unprotected sex, kind of slight possessive themes? but also just general sweetness tbh 

⟶ disclaimer: my time jungkook still has me in my feels! also, this is a repost of an old fic on an old blog.

“Stay with me?��

Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. It’s just that, lying there with you on the hotel room bed, there’s no other place he’d rather be ━ and there’s no one else he’d rather experience the moment with than you. Legs tangled together on top of the duvet with your fingers tracing circles onto his bare chest, Jungkook swears he’s in love with you ━ only, you’re not his to have. 

“I have to go,” You pout, though your fingers continue drawing constellations on his skin, treading down his arm and over the tattoos that adorn him. You’re focusing now on the lily on his forearm, around and around, sending his head spiralling. “Promised my friends we could hang out today. Besides, don’t you have Mina or Nina━” You wave your hand in the air to dismiss the thought━ “coming over soon?”

“Who?” It takes him a moment to even remember who you’re talking about. Truthfully, he hasn’t seen that girl in well over six months but he’d never tell you that. In fact, he hasn’t been seeing anyone else other than you but he would definitely never tell you that. “Oh, yeah. Well, I think she’s coming over later tonight.”

“Well━” You trail off, and Jungkook knows it’s because you’re stalling. You want to stay, and he knows it well enough, but every question you ask him is just meant to further reassure you that it’s okay if you stay. That he wants you to. “Aren’t you busy with work today before the second show?”

Jungkook shrugs. “We still have lots of time before the day starts.”

You shake your head at him but he knows he ultimately wins out when you start to smile to yourself. You prop yourself up beside him and he has to admire momentarily how you’ve never been timid in front of him when you’re naked. His hand reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek and you smile down at him. But then something seems to dawn on him that he can’t believe he foolishly hadn’t thought of first. 

“Unless… Unless you need to see one of them soon.”

“Who?”

“Taehyung or Namjoon.” It takes all he can muster to say their names without a trace of bitterness. He lifts himself up on his elbow. “Are you still seeing them?”

You shrug innocently. Sitting up a little straighter, you brush his hand away and fidget with your hair. “Would it matter if I was?”

Yes, he wants to scream but he refrains. “No. I just━” he stops. “Just curious. Is that what you meant by work then? You have to go see Tae or something right after me? ”

“No, you prick.” He’s relieved you giggle at him, fingers poking at his chest despite the fact that he was mentally cursing himself for being a dick the minute the words left his mouth. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of sex. Friends, too.”

“I know, I know,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I━ I know. You said you wanted to go shopping downtown before the show tonight, right? One of your friends ━ Dahyun ━ goes to school in the next city over and she’s taking the day off to see you. I do listen when you talk, y’know?”

He doesn’t miss the warm smile that spreads across your face. You finally return to him, kissing him slow and steadily. In the meantime, he flips you over onto your back and then parts from you much to your dismay. He’s nestled himself between your legs in an instant, kissing up your thigh and sending shivers down your spin. Your hand flies down to twine your fingers in his hair, now much longer than usual.

“I guess I could stay a little longer, if you’d want me to,” You say. 

“I do.”

He wastes no time in swiping his tongue at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. You’re already mewling with delight. That’s all it ever is with the two of you. Sex and more sex. And while Jungkook isn’t complaining, he sure does wish he could just have more of you. Jungkook burrows a little deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out. 

“Morning sex does sound nice,” You manage to say, breath shaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps against you. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Your thighs are already threatening to squeeze shut around his head, fingers tightening in their hold. His own hands find purchase on your waist, stretching outward to hold on to you, and nothing can break you both apart. Not even the muffled sound of rapid knocking on the front door of the too grand hotel room. At least, not the first two times. On the third time when it’s followed by the sound of Jungkook’s manager irritably calling out through the flimsy wood panel, does Jungkook groan into your cunt and poke his head upward, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as his manager’s voice carries infuriatingly loudly to you both once again. 

“Get up already, will you? We’ve got several business meetings to conduct today and we haven’t got time for you to sleep off a hangover or whatever it is you’re doing━”

“Gimme ‘til noon!” Jungkook asserts gruffly. He settles himself back between your thighs, and you surely don’t miss the devious way he smirks just before burrowing his head into your heat. There’s an inaudible sound that he makes, that you and certainly his manager can distinguish as being, “I’m too busy right now.”

Busy is an understatement, pointedly made clear when his tongue delves into you, lapping at your leaking wetness as if he were terribly quenched and only you could save him. You don’t think Jungkook taking his morning to eat you out is a good enough excuse that will run over well with his manager later in the day, but it drives him away for now with only a grumbled chorus of words left in his wake. But the silence only lasts for so long. Just as Jungkook is getting comfortable once more, you speak up.

“I don’t think tardiness is a very good quality to have as a celebrity,” You ponder aloud through a heavily pleased sigh.

“Ah, or it’s exactly the thing I need,” he counters with a shit-eating grin. “Being late is a very celebrity thing, isn’t it?”

“When the fame gets to their head,” You snort. Your voice splinters off into a whimper as he tilts his chin up a little higher, lapping deeper into you.

“Then I guess I’m bad.” His voice murmurs against you, rattling you to the bone.

“You’re definitely far from bad. Everyone thinks you’re an angel.”

“Wonder if they’d think the same thing if they saw me now━” He pinches lightly at the inside of your thigh, “head between your legs, and you coming on my tongue.”

You roll your eyes, but your wittiness falls short when he tugs with his teeth at your folds. Your back arches off the bed at once, hips pressing harder against his face.

“Namjoon called last night,” You say. No, you don’t say it. You moan it and even though Jungkook knows it’s because of him and how he’s making you feel in that moment, he still hates hearing someone else’s name roll off the tip of your tongue that isn’t his. “If you must know. Said he wanted to see me in the morning━”

Jungkook grimaces. He grunts shortly, “Guess you’re gonna have to let him down.”

“I’m sure Joon will love that━”

“Don’t,” he hisses. He bites down a little harshly on the inside of your thigh but you don’t mind. When he glances up to look at you, his stare is dark and hooded. “Don’t say their names. Not now. Please.”

You almost miss the desperation in his voice, the way he almost whines his words. You don’t ask, even though you’re curious. You don’t ask, even when he eats you out that morning until he’s made sure you’re crying his name and nothing else. You don’t ask, even when fucks you slow and deep and measured and almost, dare you say, loving like he never has before, clinging onto you as if he can’t live without you. You don’t ask, even when he may get a little rough (just how you like it), as if he’s afraid you’ll leave him right then and there. You don’t even ask when he sucks not one but two hickeys on your neck, large enough for anyone to see. For Taehyung and Namjoon to see.

You never really do ask, even though you notice things have become different.

It’s not as if you haven’t always been close to one another. There are more times than not in which you both physically can’t keep your hands off of one another in public, though in the safest and simplest ways possible. It’s there, in the way you sit next to him with your legs crossed regally on the couch in the green room backstage before a set, playing with the rings on his fingers on the hand resting on your shoulder; there, in the way you sit draped across his lap, leaning into his chest, in the studio as they blur through recordings. When you give advice on composing or lyric writing, Jungkook listens. When you giggle into his ear and whisper lewd things when you probably shouldn’t in the middle of a party with important business men and other celebrities, Jungkook is captivated. 

It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you, but he always knew there was something about you he just could not get enough of. You had chosen him first, approaching him late one night at a bar, and he was instantly head-over-heels. Even if it was mutually agreed upon ━ and oftentimes never really outwardly mentioned ━ that you could sleep around with him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, then Jungkook would have to deal with it. He would do anything, if it meant getting to see you more. At first he didn’t even mind. What was one more groupie to the ever growing list he had already accumulated? He’s never gotten feelings for any of them, so surely he thought he would be okay with you; that maybe whatever he was feeling for you would go away. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After he asks you the question the first time, he finds himself stuck in a greedy months-long habit of asking you wistfully every time he finds you in his bed. He asks it a thousand and one times, but only ever gets one response from you. You’ll say no, that you have to leave, and sometimes you will. But sometimes ━ sometimes when he knows he wins out because he knows you let your guard down long enough to become besotted by him, a tangible mess with his every touch ━ you’ll linger just a little longer and the notion alone is enough to instill a sense of hope in Jungkook even if he knows it’s wrong. 

And maybe you shouldn’t play along. Then again, he takes all your time and you devote what little you have left afterward to him anyway, pretending that you’re still seeing Taehyung and Namjoon when you’re certainly not.

Sometimes Jungkook catches you when he doesn’t mean to, or isn’t expecting to, and it’s all different moments that physically pain him. Sometimes those moments come from paying one of the guys a visit and stumbling upon you there, too. 

After having not seen you for the whole day, and just before the concert begins, Jungkook is called over to Namjoon’s room within the hotel to discuss some last minute changes to the show (which Jungkook’s positive he would have heard about if he hadn’t ignored his manager early in the morning). Only Namjoon doesn’t answer the door when Jungkook arrives. There’s a crescendo of giggling on the other side of the threshold and then it’s you, and you’re standing there wearing nothing but a baggy shirt of Namjoon’s that barely covers your bum (and shorts too, he thinks, but Jungkook’s much too focused now on you in Namjoon’s shirt). Namjoon’s standing a bit further back, leaning against the wall of the hallway without a shirt on and he’s grinning at something that’s just happened. 

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon calls out. “Come in, we’ll get started. I’ll just be right back━ Just hopped out of the shower━” And then he disappears into another room, most likely to find another shirt that isn’t taken by you.

“Jungkook!” You greet him so cheerfully, as if the sight of you half naked in another man’s home isn’t eating away at Jungkook. You pull him into a hug that’s so tight he can smell your familiar perfume and probably Namjoon’s lingering scent if he focuses hard enough. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook says. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so standoffish. He hopes you don’t notice. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah. The girls had to leave but that’s okay.” You’re smiling so bright and wide that it almost hurts. “Namjoon━”

“Wanted to see you?” Jungkook finishes for you, remembering your words earlier in the day. 

“Yeah━” You’re rambling on now but Jungkook isn’t listening. The pain is still lingering and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows it isn’t right but he can’t be bothered to care. In that moment, he realizes he’d rather be anywhere but there and he’s never felt that way before.

“Uh━ You know what?” He cringes slightly when he interrupts you. “Forgot I had to do something actually. Mina called earlier ━ said she wanted to talk or whatever.”

Your face immediately drops at the mention of the other girl and it pains him even more to know that you don’t see through his blatant lie. What’s worse is that Mina had called him the night before, but he had turned her down promptly before she could even say what she wanted. 

You glance over your shoulder fleetingly as if to look for Namjoon, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip. “But I thought you needed to talk with Joon about the show?”

“Can’t, sorry. Tell Namjoon he can do whatever he wants. I don’t care. Seems like he’s got his hands full with you here anyway.”

He hates himself for it ━ he hates how petty he can be, how rude he can sound without truly meaning it ━ but before he can explain himself or apologize in a way that would probably make him look even more like an idiot, he turns his back to you. It’s the first time he’s really ever done something like that. Usually, he puts up with it ━ with you draped over Namjoon’s lap or Taehyung’s hand on your waist because usually he hadn’t always had feelings for you. 

Truth be told, Jungkook doesn’t know how Namjoon or Taehyung feel about “sharing” you. He doesn’t even know how you feel about it or if you’ve noticed Jungkook’s short temper lately. He tries to contain it but he can’t and he hates how he’s become when he’s not alone with you. Lately, he’s started to think that maybe this isn’t right anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t keep meeting up with you if he’s going to feel this way all the time, and it wasn’t fair to you for him to be sulking so much. He’s not supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be having fun. 

After all, that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?

But that night something happens.

Jungkook only notices you half an hour into the show later that night even despite the fact that you’re in the same place that you always are, standing on the side in the part of the pit closest to the stage where only family and close friends are allowed to stay. Of course you’re dancing along, just like you always do, and of course you’re watching him and the rest of the boys with starry eyes, just how he loves. You smiled wide at some point when his gaze locked with yours ━ him, drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, and you, face-flushed and looking as if you’re having the time of your life.

But that’s the thing about you ━ you’re not like the others. Sure, your eyes tend to drift to him more often than not and linger on him longer than necessary but you don’t just come for him. You live for the music, admire the rest of the boys that have treated him so dearly and make the group what it is. 

And the way he performs ━ you wonder if he purposely exerts himself more because he wants you to only focus on him. Every rough thrust of his hips, every time he grabs at his crotch, dark and hooded eyes meets yours and you know he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make you suffer.

Later, when the concert is finished and you’re at a private room in a club with the boys to celebrate the evening and Jungkook has had one too many shots, he finds you at the bar. He sidles up from behind you, one palm sliding onto the small of your back. You know it’s him even before you look, judging by the familiar stature of his chest pressing against your body, and his usual scent. His lips press to the crook of your neck and your lips unfurl into a smile. You reach up blindly to grab at the nape of his neck as he starts to sway against you to the beat of the music, hips digging into your ass.

“I’ve been dying to be next to you all night.” He whispers this into the shell of your ear and you wonder vaguely how you’ve maintained enough self-control to not drop to your knees and suck him off then and there. Even worse is the fact that he’s still adorned in the makeup from the concert. Your fingers scratch at one of the newly shaved sides of his head, the rest of his long locks only maintain some of its original style pushed back and off his forehead, though now messily mused as it splays out on either side of his head and threatens to hide the undercut once more.

“You’re drunk,” You point out. He doesn’t seem to register the fact that you only point it out because otherwise, if he wasn’t so smashed, you aren’t quite sure he’d even be touching you the way he is now after the way he’s been acting lately.

“So are you,” Jungkook hums. “Let’s get out of here?”

And you can’t possibly say no. 

He thinks it’s a shame, really, because you had looked quite pretty that night wearing a velvet red dress. Because after somehow calling a taxi and stumbling back to his dorm, he gets lost in you for a while and completely ravishes you, impatiently ripping your dress off you and pressing you against the wall, hips eagerly digging into yours until you hook your legs around his hips and he carries you off to bed to finish. 

When you’re spent from your first high, Jungkook moves from your sprawled out positions on the bed and gets up, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. You watch him as he combs his hair back that’s fallen into his face again, muscles in his biceps rippling as he does so. He reaches for an acoustic guitar in one corner, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. He’s not usually this quiet after a night spent together, though you don’t quite seem to notice, thinking nothing of it as he starts plucking away at the guitar with a melody in mind if only because when he’s frustrated and stuck on a lyric, he usually goes to you in seek of help in terms of finding relief. You get to your knees, crawling over to him so that you can drape your arms around his shoulders from the back.

“That’s pretty,” You sigh dreamily, nodding to the guitar and the lazy strumming he had been doing. In the distance, you realize there’s been music playing faintly the whole time from the dock where his phone is plugged in. You recognize one of the boys’ songs playing, then realize it’s Jungkook’s solo, his own voice singing beautifully back to you. Above all else, you realize all at once that he isn’t really playing anything at all, or brainstorming a new song, but plucking along absentmindedly to the melody of his own song. 

He’s distracted but he tenses at your touch, then relaxes at once, melting instantly against you. “Just messing around,” he sighs.

“Nonsense,” You giggle. He glances over at you just in time to see you reach for his hand, and he watches as you play with the rings on his fingers. “There’s magic in these hands. In more ways than one.”

You press a chilling kiss against his palm, and then the tip of each of his fingers. Time seems to slow, and all he can suddenly focus on is you. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” His voice has a dull, stubborn whine to it that he can’t shake. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Once or twice,” You smirk. You busy yourself by focusing on lining the bottom of your palm with his, measuring your hand in his. He’s much bigger than you, his fingers nearly towering over yours and they’re always so snug and warm.

“Well, it’s true,” he says. “You’re the kinda girl songs are written about.”

“Unless I’m mistaken,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you have written songs about me.”

He feigns a look of doubt, though a smile threatens to tug at his mouth, especially when you delicately lace your fingers with his one-by-one. “Ah, is that what you think, baby girl? Don’t let the fame get to your head.”

You laugh, dropping your head and leaning your temple against his knuckles in an attempt to hide your sheepish face. With his free hand, he sets his guitar back onto the floor and then unravels his other hand from yours. His palm is calloused and hot as it slides onto your cheek, and you nuzzle into it even despite him guiding your face back up to look at him. He can’t help himself; he leans in to kiss you, biting at your lower lip and earning a delicious moan. As his hands come to grip at your sides just over your ribs and the underside of your breasts do you crawl into his lap to straddle him. For a while, he lets himself get carried away, feeling your hands roam his chest, but then with such vivid intensity, he can only imagine Namjoon and Taehyung in the same position as him and it almost makes him want to vomit. Either that, or it’s the alcohol. Gathering his wits, he shakes his head, pulling apart from you.

“I think I should write━” He fumbles uselessly with his words. “Namjoon’s gonna kill me if I don’t finish these songs━”

You arch your chest against his, warm and soft and palpable, and your hips dig into his a little more roughly, rubbing against his straining erection. You can be heard whining sluggishly as you kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I want you inside me, Kook.”

His breath hitches in his throat, but he can’t think straight anymore. Is the scent he smelling even you anymore, or just a mix of Namjoon and Taehyung? And when you tell him he’s the only one who can ever make you feel the way he does, do you tell that to them too? 

His silence is answer enough, and is what ultimately forces you to look up at him. You’re met with an empty expression, then your own countenance is contorting. You sit back on his lap. 

“I don’t understand you anymore, Jungkook,” You say. There it is, he laments to himself. The familiar pang to his chest, the dreaded realization that maybe he’s fucked this whole thing up forever. “It’s like sometimes you can’t get enough of me, touching me here and there and just before shows when you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes, telling me that no one will care if you’re late. Then sometimes it’s like you won’t even look at me. Like you can’t get me off of you fast enough; like you can’t even touch me anymore.”

Jungkook avoids your stare, which he knows is exactly the sort of thing he shouldn’t do. But you already have your answer. You clamber off of his lap at once to slide back onto the bed and he wants nothing more than to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. Now, you seem flustered, or maybe just disheartened. Your arms come to cross over your bare chest, as if to hide yourself.

“You don’t want to touch me anymore,” You say dryly. 

It’s not a question so much as it is a statement. Either way, he shakes his head. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, he mumbles, “Maybe you should go.”

You clamp your mouth shut. “You’re not serious, Jungkook.”

He still doesn’t dare to meet your gaze, his jaw set hard in place. 

“You’re kicking me out? Now? Now?” 

“I’m not. I’m just━ Not in the mood tonight.”

“What a liar,” You gasp. “I had your stupid boner poking my ass the entire time we were at the club, and you sure as hell spent the better part of the night fucking me.”

He can’t quite tell if you’re mad. Your tone dances a fine line between incredulousness and amusement, though he assumes it all boils down to disappointment in the end anyway. You refuse to move, though, pushing yourself onto your knees beside him.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook,” You plead carefully. “Something’s wrong. Has been for a while, and I want to know what it is.”

He takes a deep breath and finally meets your stare and, god, you look irresistible. Your lips are bruised red from him biting and sucking at them, and your exposed chest is too tempting, beckoning him to touch you. His mind is a whirlwind of emotions ━ plus, he’s just a little bit tipsy, and so he blames it on that for caving into you so easily.

He grimaces. “I’m jealous, all right?” 

You don’t respond at first, and he decides he wants to curl up into a hole and die. Then, you snort, which isn’t exactly the sort of reaction he was expecting to hear from you, and suddenly you don’t seem so angry at him anymore. “I knew that. Was wondering when you’d tell me, though.”

“You what?”

“Well, it’s not that hard to see. You’re always giving Namjoon and Taehyung death glares when I’m around.”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He says this sheepishly, and at least you giggle at him. “I just━ I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”

“I’m not a thing to have,” You retort.

“I know,” he says, and then groans the words again. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a thing to have, and you’re not mine to have but, god, I hate it that they know everything about what it feels like to be with you.”

Gently, he grabs at your waist, tugging you onto his lap, rough hands spreading your thighs to sit perfectly on him once more. Then, with his hands planted on your hips, does he guide you back and forth on him slowly. He reaches out to brush his fingers along your bare arms, then across your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He leans down as if to kiss the valley between them, but his mouth never really does meet your skin; instead, his lips graze faintly against you.

“That they know your body.” He brushes his nose against your chest as he lifts his head. His mouth ghosts across your breasts, almost catching your nipples in his mouth, his breath warm and tingly against the sensitive flesh, just to tease you. His hand follows his lips, grasping firmly at the underside of your breast, his thumb flicking over the perked bud. “Have touched it where I’ve touched it.”

Your own hands flail out to grasp at his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat. “Why? Why do you hate it so much? That’s all I want to know.”

“Because they don’t even know how lucky they are,” he mutters. “Because you probably do all sorts of things for them and they just think you’re another groupie. Because they aren’t in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Your face is hot now, your body trembling. His hands are still on your chest when he starts kissing your throat. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“What if I told you I’m in love with you too?”

“Well, you are fucking my band mates. I think that makes things a tad bit complicated.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You’re certain if he wasn’t making you feel like heaven in that moment, you would have snapped the words. Instead, you’re already shamelessly grinding your hips against his even without his guidance. “I called it off with them a while ago, actually. They were okay with it, too. Said they felt something was different. You’re the only one in my life, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stops suddenly. He pulls his head back to gawk at you and is greeted to your hooded eyes watching him. “You━ What? What about this morning when you said Namjoon wanted to see you?”

“I lied,” You admit timidly. 

“And when you were in his room━”

“We never did anything,” You promise. “I just wanted to see a reaction from you. Honestly, so did Taehyung and Namjoon. I mean, Namjoon purposely told me to come to his room to see if you’d be jealous. And I think I went along with it because I really just want to know that when you ask me to stay with you, in your bed, do you really mean it? I just…” You trail off, biting at your lower lip, asking him apprehensively, “What about you and that Mina girl?”

“I haven’t seen her or talked to her in months,” he says earnestly.

“Of course not.” You say this in a breathless laughing manner, as if it’s just now dawning on you. Then, you reach up to cradle his head in your hands, grasping at either side of his face. When you speak next, your voice is an ardent whisper. “I want to be with you, Kook. Like really, really be with you. I didn’t know how to tell you because we were so used to just having sex and nothing more and I figured if that’s all I could get with you, then I’d learn to live with it even if it’d kill me to hear you hooking up with other girls.”

Jungkook blinks. He takes a moment to comprehend what’s happening, but then he’s feeling that tension in his chest loosen and he’s just so relieved. 

“There’s only you,” he says. “Has been for a while.”

You smile, so big and soft and pretty, and he kisses you just to bask in the moment. Suddenly, he’s just overwhelmed with love for you and almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Maybe I should get you jealous more often,” You muse pensively. “It’s kinda hot.”

“It’s mean,” he pouts. Then, his demeanour changes and he’s smirking wolfishly. “Besides, they can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”

“N-No,” You croak feebly. “It’s always been you, Jungkook. Even with them. I’d never tell them but… you’re all I could think about even when I was with them. Imagining you touching me instead of them. Imagining it was you when they laid with me.”

This seems to grab his attention, having him groaning into your neck. “What’d I say? Gonna be the death of me.”

You shiver at the sound of his hoarse voice. You whisper aloud, “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so stupid lately,” he says. “Let me make it up to you. Do you want that, baby girl? But first you gotta show me you mean it. That you’re mine.”

As he tongues a pattern against your throat, you muster a nod. You wonder if it’s obvious how badly you want him in that moment, with the way your hips continue to grind against his. 

“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he murmurs against you. “Can you do that for me?”

The thought entices you and has you scrambling to nod your head again. His large hands come to grab at your ass, shifting you until you’re seated on one of his legs. Your eyes never stray from his as you start to grind against his thigh, the rough material of his sweatpants rubbing at your core. Slow and steady, he guides you back and forth, watching as your pretty mouth pops open into a silent gasp.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos. “God, you look so pretty. And you’re all mine. Touch yourself for me.”

“Where?” You ask breathlessly.

“All over. Anywhere you want me.”

You whimper at the thought, imagining the feeling of his rough hands on your body. You start at your chest, grasping at your own breasts, squeezing at your perked nipples. You pinch them until they’re hard under your fingertips, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with your palm as you try to picture Jungkook doing the same. Then, you slide one hand down the front of your stomach, past your navel. He watches as you dip lower and lower before finally reaching between your legs, fingers rubbing small circles against your clit. The mingling feelings of you rutting your hips against his thigh and the way you touch yourself under his burning stare has you writhing on his lap within seconds. 

“Oh, Jungkook━” Your eyes clamp shut, brows knitting in concentration. “Wanna feel you so bad━”

“Uh uh,” he tuts at once. Grabbing at your chin, he yanks your head back up in his direction and taps his thumb against your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see how I make you feel.”

“But it feels so good,” You whine. Still, you listen, prying your eyes open just slightly enough to meet his stare again. Now, you’ve started to grind a little harder on him, rubbing at your heat a little faster. “Please, Jungkook━”

“Cum for me first,” he coos, his tone gentle despite his obvious demands. “Then I’ll do whatever you want. You can do that for me, right?”

You muster a nod, eyes threatening to flutter shut again but you refrain. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your waist, his large hard encompassing almost all of your back as he pushes you closer to him and the action alone is enough to make you hum with delight. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says. “The things they could never do for you.”

He doesn’t say Taehyung’s or Namjoon’s names for you to understand and, truthfully, you’re glad he doesn’t. Your mind is much too focused on Jungkook to care about anyone else.

“I want you━” You cry out suddenly, biting at your lip. “I want you to touch me, anywhere. I want you to use me, and make me yours. I want you in me. I just need your dick, Jungkook, please. You always make me feel so good. Please, please touch me━”

His jaw sets hard in place as he continues to watch you, fingers itching to please you however which way you want, but he waits. He knows you’re close to your high when you start whimpering and moaning his name, your hand falling from your chest as your other hand rubs harder at your clit the faster you ride his thigh. He flexes his muscle beneath your core, and the simple action is enough to have your head spinning. As you reach your high, his hand that is still wrapped around your chin slides upward and his two forefingers poke into your mouth. Instantly, you’re sucking against them, tongue laving at his digits desperately as you imagine his cock in your mouth, in your cunt, stretching you wide.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

As you unravel in his arms, body twitching into his chest, his arm tightens its hold around your back and envelopes you in his warmth so much to the point where it feels as if you begin to melt against him. You grab at his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth until you almost gag, muffled moans meeting his ear as you climax. When you’re spent, your pace on his thigh slows to a steady occasional gyrating of your hips as you suck and lav at his fingertips.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Jungkook hums, his free hand stroking your back as you calm your nerves. When you’ve regained most of your wit, you pop Jungkook’s fingers from your mouth and he takes the liberty of guiding his palm down your chin to your throat to your breasts. “You’re doing so well for me. Bet you never listened as well to them as you do with me. Will you get on your hands and knees for me?”  

You scramble to obey, crawling off his lap and onto all fours on the bed. You crane your neck to watch as he gets to his knees behind you, shoving the material of his sweatpants down to his knees in haste. He’s already impossibly hard, grasped in his knuckles, precum leaking from the head of his dick. He wastes no time in pushing himself into you, and though he’s stretched you wide hours ago, the same feeling of him slipping in snug to your heat does wonders on your body still. 

“Mm, Jungkook!” You cry out as he buries himself balls deep into you, coaxed so easily by your slick arousal. He sputters at the sensation, palms pawing at your navel as he yanks you further down his cock. “F-Fuck━ You feel so good━”

“Show me,” he gasps, pulling his hips out once and rutting into you so vigorously you feel it shudder throughout your whole body. Then, he’s thrusting into you at a rhythmic fast pace that has you clenching so tight around him, his head spins some more. “Let me hear you. I wanna see how I make you feel. Let me see how you belong to me.”

He tugs at your elbows, yanking you up off the bed, and you clumsily follow suit, pressing your back flushed against his chest. 

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” You whine. “I want you to wreck me so bad. Only you know how to wreck me so bad.”

“Yeah?” he taunts. “Only me? Gonna prove it?”

“Please, Jungkook━ Harder, please━ I’ll do anything you want!”

He quickens his pace and slams his hips up into yours harshly. It has you moaning with delight, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he holds you tighter in place. He reaches round to grab at your chin again, twisting your head in a careful yet prompt manner so that you’re looking over your shoulder at him with your flustered gawking expression.

“Open up.” He taps at your mouth and you do as you’re told. Almost instantly, he pulls your chin closer until your mouth is hovering over his, and spits. It’s a wordless command and gesture, as if to further prompt you to prove your point. You welcome it entirely, swallowing his own saliva completely. What doesn’t make it into your mouth, dribbles down your chin and onto your throat. Then you’re chasing his mouth, hearing him hum approvingly, “That’s it, baby.”

You almost miss his lips the first time from the way he’s being so feral now as his hips continue to slam against yours. You’re fortunate when he guides your chin, still pinched between his fingers, in a much too tender manner for the crude moment that has your heart swooning despite all the hysteria. A hot open-mouthed kiss which is still entirely sloppy as your tongues ravish mid-air, and his teeth nip and suck on your lower lip any chance he can get. 

“Gonna tell them how well I fuck you?” he asks breathlessly. You bite at his lip this time, tugging at it hard. “Let them know you’re all mine? Fuck━”

“Mhm!” You rasp. “Oh, Jungkook━”

By now, his pace is relentless. You threaten to ricochet from his grip with each rut of his hips, knees wobbling beneath you. He hand falls from your chin finally to grab at your breasts, replacing your earlier efforts, pinching at your nipples, squeeze at your soft flesh. He lavs wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. Your own head leans back onto his shoulder, a hand reaching out to grasp at his hair. Your fingers first scratch at the shaved sides, then thread through his hair, yanking at it tightly enough to have him grunting in delight.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna━” You whimper. “I’m gonna━”

But you don’t finish your thought. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook already knows you’re close to your high with the way you start to clench around him. You pull even tighter at his hair, a pleasant burn evoking a hiss from his throat. His hips move even faster than before, desperate to try and carry you to your high. So riddled from your first orgasm not long ago and the one before that, you’re quick to crumble beneath him once more. Twisting and turning, you cry out his name in a repeated mantra, like music to his ears. When the scorching heat between your thighs and blinding your eyes subsides enough for you to be somewhat coherent again, you meekly find your voice.

“Tell me I’m yours,” You beg despairingly, voice barely a ragged panting whisper. The aftershock of your orgasm still shakes through your body that the way you’re clutching at his hair now is only so that you can still have some sort of hold on reality still. “Please, please. Tell me. I wanna be yours so bad. You already have me, just wanna hear it from you. Tell me you want me as much as I want you. Please, Jungkook━”

A nerve flutters in Jungkook’s heart. And his dick. He marvels momentarily at the idea of how he wants to continue to wreck you and simultaneously love you all over and grows impatient. Without warning, and with much difficulty, he pulls out of you. Before you can register what’s happening or miss the warmth of his cock in your heat, he pushes you onto the bed and flips you around so that you’re on your back. Then, hovering over you close enough so that he can hook one of your legs over his shoulder, he pushes himself back into you. 

“You’re all I want,” he says, smoothing his mouth over yours once more. He moans against your lips, then rests his forehead against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you. You make it so hard to think sometimes. Everything about you drives me wild.”

His pace isn’t as harsh as before, though he’s careless as he abandons all form in an attempt to ride out your high and reach his own. Each thrust he makes jolts you back and forth on the bed, the sensitivity between your thighs a mild burn that starts to crescendo as you gasp each time his cock slides back into you. You reach out tiredly to grab at his face with soft motions despite not bothering to move him from where he still rests with his forehead. One large palm of his comes to grasp at your side, pushing you further into the mattress as he hammers into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum━” He moans. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me make your cunt mine?”

“Yes, please,” You rasp. “Wanna feel it so bad.”

It’s different this time despite knowing the sensation well enough from all those times before. Every event since then has been a build up to this, and when he finally releases into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make the both of you whimper and whine, mewling with delight the longer he cums in your heat. 

Then, he slumps against your chest and the room falls silent once more safe for the sound of your mingled panting. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck and your fingers rake through his sweaty hair in a soothing manner until that too ceases after a few silent moments. 

“Not falling asleep on me now, are you?” he asks after the thrill of both your highs have subsided. He lifts his head to look at you and finds that you are, in fact, beginning to doze off. 

“No,” You lie. You pry one eye open to look at him as you bite back a sheepish snicker. He pulls out of you at long last, and the lack of warmth has you immediately protesting. You reach out  blindly for him before he can move too far. “Come back here. I want to cuddle you.” Then, letting your surroundings register once more, you realize suddenly that music has still been playing all this time. Most specifically, Jungkook’s solo which has been left on a loop. You meet his curious gaze in the dark and deadpan, “Did you seriously just fuck me to your song?”

“It’s not fucking when we were making love,” he wriggles his brows suggestively. You wonder how he’s always so quick to go from one extreme to the other. Whereas five minutes ago, you wanted nothing more than to have him demolish you with his dick, now he’s just his usual lovable idiotic self that you want to kiss all over. He’s not wrong though, you discern. The song isn’t a bad one either, and the thought of him having sex with you to his own music is undescriably hot anyway. 

“You can’t say you were making love to me when you just took me raw.” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, but you’re certain he’s well aware of that. His snickers warm your heart to no end and you can’t help yourself when you lean forward to kiss him. 

“I can and I will because I love you,” he says proudly. Then, as if tasting the words on his tongue and favouring the sound of it, hums more pensively again, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And this time he knows you mean it because, in the morning, when you both wake up feeling sore and marked all over by one another (so that Namjoon and Taehyung can know), you’re still curled up into Jungkook’s chest. You’re half asleep, your nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck and making him smile. You’re only roused awake by the feather-light strokes his fingers make as they rub small circles into your back.

“Stay with me?” Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. This time, he even knows it’ll be different. 

He sees your sleepy smile widen when he kisses your temple sweetly, and decides quickly that he likes this, right there and now, as it is, and especially when he hears you whisper finally, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[lokislastlove]

Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

[yeojaa]

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween.  What he loves more than that?  You.

pairing.  gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating.   idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded.  it’s just that fluffy.  (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings.  established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower. 

wc.  9.7k

beta reader(s).  the lovely @kerikaaria​​​ read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy.  tysm!  💛  i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif​ gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly.  oops... 

author note.  this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo​‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves.  while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside.  i hope you enjoy it!   

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened.  You remember, faintly, the mention of a party.  Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc.  He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought.  If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway.  Win-win or whatever.  

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge.  Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean. 

“Zarya’s one!  Zarya’s one—“  You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen.  You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too.  There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch.  “Zarya’s actually one!” 

No one cares.  She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map. 

“Jesus—“  Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue.  You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.  

I need healing!  I need healing! 

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way.  Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though.  There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point.  Stupid.  You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support. 

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked.  So infuriating and yet— nope.  Just infuriating. 

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise.  Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise.  He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face.  You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru.  He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team.  A silver lining, you suppose.  

Your second round starts well enough.  Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta.  Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana.  You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn.  Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost.  (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado.  The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong.  Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter. 

“You winning?” 

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction.  You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.  

(It’s not your own fault.  He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!”  You want to be more mad.  Really, you do.  You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long.  Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn. 

“What?”  Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime. 

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves.  All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.  

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder.  You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days.  You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery. 

It’s a little distracting;  he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual.  You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck.  Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see;  it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over.  You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication.  (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.) 

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so.  You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words). 

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet. 

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya?  She has grav.”  Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon.  Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock.  If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game. 

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void.  Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces.  Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next.  Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,”  says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head.  He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match.  It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.  

“Rip is right,”  you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map.  If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms.  Jungkook chuckles at that.  

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well.  There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested.  Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”  

You don’t turn your head.  Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you.  Sometimes, you love it;  other times, you hate it.  Most times, though, he’s right.  He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame). 

“Can we go top left?”  You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main.  Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team.  Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited.  “You should be back right by the stairs.  You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point.  Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav.  She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you.  As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen. 

“Told you,”  he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore. 

“I was going to say thank you.”  Just not right now.  You can’t multitask quite like he can. 

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display.  “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock.  Thank freaking god.  You can win this, you think.  Easy.  No problem. 

“Go Ana on defense.”  At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth.  You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin. 

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time.  He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Do you just want to play?”  You don’t mean it seriously.  You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you.  It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship. 

“Nah, I’m snacking.”  He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.  You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon. 

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions.  He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do.  He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do.  He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t. 

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.  

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair.  You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears. 

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game.  There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back. 

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie.  “We won,”  you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug. 

“Of course you did.”  He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you.  He’d been a great coach. 

“What’re you doing here?”  It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest.  He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair.  (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines.  You don’t care.) 

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.  

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.”  You remember, because you’d been disappointed.  Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,”  he states, like he’s talking to a moron.  You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.  

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen.  Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena.  It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it. 

“Yeah, we,”  Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker.  “Halloween party, baby.  Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises:  (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party?  You didn’t think idols had those.  Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no.  Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.”  It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach.  It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day. 

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face.  It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way.  Why’s he looking at you like that?  Why’s your memory so bad?  Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions? 

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance.  It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage.  A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns. 

“I— don’t remember that.”  You’re lying through your damn teeth.  Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass. 

“But you did!”  He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal.  It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me!  You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate. 

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here.  It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia.  “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular.  You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish. 

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs.  (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs.  You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.)  It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing.  The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames.  Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them;  Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.  

“I don’t think I can pull this off,”  you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious.  (You were, once.  Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.) 

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places.  Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest.  You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it.  (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention.  Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you.  You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp.  A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue.  “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance.  It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway.  “You have to say that.  You’re my boyfriend.” 

“I don’t have to say anything,”  he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten.  It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot.  It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart.  “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then.  He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened.  He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom.  How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure.  All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up;  yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug.  You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.  

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson.  They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay—  that was scary.  I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.”  A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees.  It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?”  You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there.  He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms;  he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh.  His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised;  Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer.  (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.”  Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end.  It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature.  You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee.  Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact.  A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious.  You look—”  You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose.  A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon.  “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it.  Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders.  You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!”  You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself.  All part of his plan, you suppose.  “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.  

“Okay!  Sorry!”  Except he doesn’t look very sorry.  More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you.  You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”  

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie.  You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment.  (Not that you really mind.)  

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip.  It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting.  Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks.  It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love. 

Today, it comes after the fourth count. 

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.”  Well, of course you will.  As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas.  It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams. 

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times.  “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins.  It’s unfairly adorable.  Still, you push.  Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you.  From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted. 

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot.  You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum.  A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to.  You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you;  rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.”  By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful.  The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday. 

It turns out to be the opposite:  one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend.  He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger.  You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another.  For tonight, they’re one and the same. 

“Joker?  Seriously?”  You can’t hide the delight.  It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction.  Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask.  “Don’t sound so excited.”  It’s an actual concern of his.  He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.  

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more.  He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting. 

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky.  You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises.  It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently.  You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared;  you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.”  You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes.  It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes.  It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling.  Bastard.  “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker.  You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter.  He’s dressed this way because you like the character.  

“Oh,”  you say, because there’s not much more to say.  Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it. 

“Yeah,”  he parrots back, a little smug.  

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life.  He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set.  You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better.  (You suppose he is.)  

“Angel, come here!”  He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side.  Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love.  There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).   

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.  

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball.  You don’t mind.  You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.  

“I’m winning,”  he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.  

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh.  Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst.  Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.  

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.”  You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element.  He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some.  It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is).  “How many games have you won?”  Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.”  God, his ego.  You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best.  Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck.  He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you.  To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.  

“Can we play?”  Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks.  You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.  

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs.  Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend.  (How fitting.)  “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch.  “No, you’re just bad at games!”  He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes.  Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink.  In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus.  (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?)  You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily.  Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.”  And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.  

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond.  He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life. 

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”  

“Ahhhhhh, stop!”  It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own.  Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads.  “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!”  You know it isn’t true.  Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines).  But together?  It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.  

You absolutely loved it. 

“Sure, sure,”  the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot.  One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins.  A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour.  You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one.  Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour.  “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.  

“Drink this!”  

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?”  You’re incredulous.  Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl.  It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless.  Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!”  The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too.  “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy?  It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?). 

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it.  Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body.  “Don’t die!”  He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”  

“No, you’re fine.”  He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up.  You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement.  “Your face, oh—  Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane.  You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together.  It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor.  Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms.  You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?”  It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies.  He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile.  “What’re you doing down there?”  

“Just hanging out,”  you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft.  A modern day olive branch.  “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close.  Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like.  It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like.  Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away.  You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness.  “You sound drunk, angel,”  he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek.  It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin.  It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves.  “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,”  comes Jimin from beside you.  There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.  

“That’s the plan,”  Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment.  It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him.  He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation.  When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case.  “Want to head home?”

You do.  You really, really do.   

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are.  Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—”  There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet.  “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway.  “Sorry,”  you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused.  It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.”  He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh.  Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away.  “Here, let me.”  

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time.  (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,”  you tease, clinging to him like a koala.  You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven.  “Or are you the court jester?  That’s what Joker is, right?”  It’s a joke and a bad one at that.  Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.  

“You’re drunk.”  He says it more kindly than you expect.  Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve.  You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded.  There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare.  It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought.  You have to tell him.  Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it.  “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down.  As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands.  (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.)  “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?”  You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon.  You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.”  It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that.  You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style.  You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression.  “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does.  You pout, as you so often do. 

“Okay,”  you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder.  You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings.  “Will you wash my hair?”  You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.”  Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).  

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck.  When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips.  You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat.  Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.”  As if that’s meant to stop you.  He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention.  He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,”  you mumble into the expanse of his chest.  He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable.  You think you could live in the feeling of his arms.  (You’re lucky you get to.)  You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most.  “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation.  You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless.  It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.  

He’d explained it to you once.  Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first.  Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t.  JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm.  Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that.  You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.”  You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon.  You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure.  “Gotta get undressed to shower,”  he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises?  It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”  

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.  

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care.  Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow.  You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep.  He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle.  His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck.  You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight.  You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits.  There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest.  He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.”  The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck. 

“We are, angel,”  Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back.  It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame.  “Just need to get you warmed up first.”    

“The shower’ll be warm,”  you say - or think you say, anyway.  It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).  

“Do you want me to stop?”  It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off.  Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat.  “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.”  Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern.  You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.  

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise.  “I never want you to stop.”  

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair.  He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted.  “I love you,”  he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.  

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment.  He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off.  You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders.  You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.  

“Start the shower.”  

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that.  You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away.  The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,”  he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream.  He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip.  You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does.  You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside.  It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you.  You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.  

“Hair?”  You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder.  It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.  

“Patience, baby.”  It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess.  He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue.  (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—”  The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand.  Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it.  It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips.  A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit.  The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump.  Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.  

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair.  “Patience,”  he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist.  He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue. 

“Kook,”  you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess.  There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest.  A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.  

“Relax for me.”  You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.  

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more.  You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish.  (You wish you could see him.) 

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him.  (It was.)  He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense.  Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.  

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures.  With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,”  comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care.  Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls.  He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.  

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard.  Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot;  it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.  

“K-Kook.”  It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.  

“I’ve got you.”  And he does - hook, line, and sinker.  He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave.  It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go.  He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn.  See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service.  Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him.  You should recognise the look on his face.  “Kook?”

“My turn.”  It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward.  There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you.  It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in.  “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.  (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed.  In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine.  It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat.  His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear.  It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure.  “Oh fuck,”  he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.  

“Always so good for me.”  Another thing he says, often and without prompting.  It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet.  “Always so perfect for me.”  

“Because I love you,”  you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.  

“Love you too, angel.”  He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway.  He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted.  He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart.  Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust.  An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision;  it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard.  He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high.  You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings. 

“Kook,”  you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower.  The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm.  You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing.  It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.  

“P-please, Kook.  Please.”  You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his.  He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation.  “Come for me, Kook.  Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars.  Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you.  It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs.  You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.  

“I love you,”  he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.  

“I love you,”  you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours.  “But I still need you to wash my hair.”  It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days.  “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.”  Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements.  He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery.  Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.  

“I thought I was an angel.”  You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks.  Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline.  Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice.  “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”  

You can’t argue with that. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​

[shlutnutt]

Tag

in honor of kit's birthday, why not a quick little kit smut?

starts off as a little fluff lol

warnings: smut, penetration, fingering, oral sex, just regular smut

song insp: courtship dating and affection both by crystal castles

ight so boom.

"Come on! Slow down flash." Kit yells from the other side of the asylum caf trying his best to catch up to your incredible speed. Kit and you were inseparable, no matter how many times the nuns tried seperating you guys, you'd always find a way to hang out or at least see eachother.

Playing tag was your favorite game to play since it didn't require a board game with boring little pieces or any difficult rules. "Ok! I'll give you a headstart! Only 5 seconds!" you yell back causing a little disruption. Kit speed walks towards you not wanting to run anymore.

You giggle at the sight of Kit completely out of breath infront of you as he tapped on you, causing him to giggle along with you pausing suddenly taking a second to admire the beauty he had infront of him. The eye contact you both held brought nothing but butterflies, rising your need to have his soft plump lips against yours, but you dont dare make a move preventing any sort of punishments coming from Sister Jude.

Kit grabs your hand signaling you to sit down alongside him by the window which seemed nearly empty from the patients hating the sunlight. "Hey, I have a plan.. Its risky but we can have some alone time?" Kit whispers feeling the tension you two imprisoned. Taking his hand into yours you whisper back "What's on your mind baby?". Kit plans "Well, we go back to our prison cells at 9:00 pm. Jude usually leans around till 9:30 pm. We were the only ones who ate today's toasts. Lets say we got immensely sick hey? Get our "medical help" and meet by the girl's bathroom. Whatcha think?"

You were totally down for Kit's quickie plan but were terribly scared of getting caught. Knowing the result will be awful you honestly respond with "I dunno Kit. Its very risky. But I'll do it!"

"Shh"

"Shit sorry. Only if you're staying by my side though."

"Im not leaving you alone Y/N.. We're inseparable my love, dont ever forget that. "

All of the patients were escorted to their cells for their bedtime. As soon as you hear the hourly beep for 9:00 pm you keep track of time for 30 minutes. Focusing on every minute to second that passes by from the top of your head you prepare for your act, knowing that Kit is more then ready. You soon hear familiar deep coughs from the right side of your cell, knowing it was time. As you begin coughing harshly you hear keys jingling down the hallway unlocking a cell. Knowing you were next you continue coughing almost making yourself throw up.

"Y/N! What is going on in there?!" You hear a familiar feminine voice question in concern. "I- I can't breath! My stomach is killing me!" you continue your act, pretty impressed in yourself. The lady opens your cell and your heart automatically skips a beat at the sight of your lover alongside the nun, smirking slightly in between coughs.

Each step you took down the soundless hallway to the nurses was raising your heartbeat by the second not losing the tension Kit's aurora gave you.

When you all arrived at the nurses office and sit down for a few seconds, Nurse decides to break the silence. What the hell is wrong with you two? It's literally bedtime." she questions in annoyance. You silently chuckle hearing the word "hell" come out of a nun's lips. "I don't know, I suddenly wasn't able to breath properly and my stomach started hurting really bad." Kit says in "pain" mimicing your words. "And you?" the nurse asks pointing at you with her black pen decorated with a little cross. "I feel the same way. All I ate was the buttered toast, I dont usually feel like this." You add the fact that you ate the toast to make your lie far more believable. "I ate the toast too. It seemed like nobody wanted them so I gave it a try." Kit adds, completing the perfect lie.

"Second time this week the chefs' failed once again at their job. I apologize on their behalf.. I'll get you some pain relieving pills. Give me a sec." The nun apologizes heading to the big creaky door towards the basement where all medications were in storage.

I look over at Kit nerviously, who's sitting on the patient bed, uncuffed surprisingly. He seemed so excited and just overall ready to destroy your guts. "Aren't we going?" you ask perplexed to the fact he's just sitting there smiling not moving a muscle. "Escape rules 101: Leave five seconds after your kidnapper, or you'll get caught. Boom!" You giggle at his words aware he made it all up, still taking it into advice though. "Five, four, three, two.. one! Run Y/N runnn!" he insists.

Kit grabs your hand soft but steady as he drags you down another hallway towards the girl's bathroom. Warm air kissing the both of your faces as you glide down hallway to hallway with your favorite person in hand, smiling and giggling, pure ecstasy and excitements on your faces, as you arrive at your destination.

"Check if the stalls are empty on your left im checking on my right, babe" you smile at the sudden nickname Kit had put on you and proceeded to follow his commands giving him a quick thumbs up from the other side of the bathroom signaling him that the coast was clear, he does the same.

You choose the stall furthest from the door pulling Kit in with you locking it immediately "So now what?" Kit teases almost as if he were to be taunting you, acknowledging your need through your eyes. "You tell me." you attempt to tease back. "What if I show you?" he whispers, leaning into your neck. "Show me then.." you whisper back suddenly gasping at the sudden touch of Kit's delicate pink lips against your neck. His soft kissing, licking and sucking against your neck making your core wet by the second. Becoming stressed from his soft teasing you grab his jaw gentley, leading his lips to your own.

As you two kiss passionately you feel his tongue silently asking for enterance which you allow, the makeout now becoming intense. You feel his hands suddenly lifting your gown, sliding your underwear to the side, looking you in the eye with question for consent which you also allow. Kit begins rubbing your wetness delicately as he slowly inserts a finger inside making you whimper in pleasure grabbing onto his strong masculine shoulders. With now two fingers in your core, you begin jacking off Kit through his well fitted sweats producing a light angelic moan to fall out of his lips. You decide to quickly undress him teasing his member devilishly.

"Now you'll have to finish what you started gorgeous." Kit whispers reffering to your teasing on his. You drop down to your knees slowly tracing your fingers down his body, stopping right below his belly button making him groan deeply in need. "So needy for me, baby" you tease as you suck his member whole causing him to grip your thick hair for support. The combination of your moans vibrating on his now soaked member and your massaging on his balls, made his release speed up more then ever.

"Im cl- close Y/N.. You're doing such a good job for me" he praises while nutting in your mouth which you swallow quickly, avoiding the slight bitter taste. Kit picks you up with no notice and leans you against the stall you both shared slowly sliding his member past your submerged folds. You moan instantly at the feeling of Kit's cock filling you up completely hitting your g-spot everytime. You're both breathlesss in the moment, your loud moans echoing through the flickering lights of the bathroom, holding onto his shoulders for support your arms wrapped around his muscular sweaty waist.

"F-fuck Kit. Im cu-.." not being able to finish your words due to the amazing sensation you were feeling on your core, you feel instantly empty as Kit pulls out of you to finish your high with his mouth.

Kit tongue fucks you, and licks between your folds to finally sucking on your clit liberating your release in his mouth which he sucks up every drop of. Your body collapses onto his still trying to process the intense moment you both divided.

"I love you, Y/N" Kit lovingly says while lookin down at you with innocent eyes. "I love you too, Ki-"

Getting brutally interrupted you hear screaming "Where the hell are you two!" you both hear the nurse, footsteps running up and down the hallways. You quickly get dressed and kiss Kit your goodbyes as he flies past the huge door into the boys' bathroom which luckily was right next to the girls'.

"I-Im here!" you manage to scream back, sticking two fingers down your throat forcing yourself to throw up. "I just got really sick and needed to throw up, sorry." you apologize looking up at the lady who's eyes were boiling in anger. You were pretty sweaty, hair tousled, and hands were shaky. Made your lie pretty believable. "Where's kit?" nurse asks calmly this time now that she's found you. "Im not too sure I think he ran to the boys' room, he got really red and well ran out, seemed sick also." You manage to convince.

Nurse walks out, disgusted by your view heading into the boys' room in which she's not allowed into. You jump at the scary sounds Kit made from the other side of the wall, relieved you two had mentally communicated the same plans.

Managing to clean yourself up a bit you hear hard knocking on the girls' bathroom door. You timidly open up to the view of nurse and Kit. Relieved you smile to yourself a little, Kit realizes and taps on you playfully.

"You're it, loser."

[whataboutmyfries]

Forever and always

I did it!!! After months of procrastinating, I finally finished writing the Proposal AU i had promised u guys! I’m so sorry if gets terrible towards the end, I do plan on proofreading it again sometime in the future. 

I also want to that everyone on the SW discord server so so much for being absolute ANGELS and putting up with me picking their brains for so long.

For now, i would like to thank @lumosinlove​ for our beautiful boys and I hope you enjoy!!! 

~

Logan didn’t have the faintest idea of how these things usually went. All he knew was that he was nervous as hell and sweating like a pig. 

He’d never felt like this before. His hands were shaking as he flipped open the little velvet box for the hundredth time, making sure he still had both rings. They weren’t anything flashy, just two simple bands of silver with an engraving on the inside 

The lion, le poisson, and the earthquake

He’d spent hours at the jeweller’s, only to settle on something so embarrassingly simple that he’d almost reconsidered a thousand times in the past 20 minutes.  

No. He wanted this. He wanted this more than anything. And he wasn’t going to let his irrational fears get in the way today. 

Logan sucked in a breath, his knee bouncing uncontrollably below the table, his fingers drumming on the table. He looked in the mirror one last time, running a hand through his hair and straightening his shirt before jumping off the chair to check on the food.

The first people he’d told were Dumo and Celeste. They were like parents to him and he’d wanted their advice— and blessings— before he actually did it. Naturally, Dumo had burst into tears and told him how proud he was and Celeste had given him a hug and asked if he needed any help. 

So, that’s how Logan had ended up here, waiting in their apartment, trying his best to not pass out. 

Celeste had helped him make most of the food, but he’d insisted on making the cake himself. He’d wanted something that he’d made by himself for them. It had occurred to him that they might say no, but he’d reasoned that if they said no, at least he’d have cake. 

He smoothed out invisible wrinkles from his shirt, tugging at the rolled-up sleeves. Logan was finding it impossible to sit still, and he sighed in exasperation, yanking his phone out of his pocket to text Finn and Leo for the hundredth time—

Only to have the door open to reveal the both of them, trying to share a pair of earphones while simultaneously lugging in three shopping bags. 

Logan’s shoulders eased just a little, his mouth twitching up at the corners as he watched his boys shenanigans. 

Logan, oomph, done ogling? We could use a little help here.”

Logan grinned, walking over to Finn, prodding him in the side before taking a particularly heavy bag off his hands. 

“Ah yes, my liege, I live to serve.”

He dropped a  kiss onto Finn’s head, grabbing the bags from him, the easy banter easing some of the tension from his shoulders. 

 Leo huffed, setting down the heavy bags as he nudged the door closed with his foot. 

“Someone’s been busy,” Leo grinned, cocking an eyebrow towards the table, groaning under the weight of the food

Logan’s pulse ratcheted, the apple he was holding slipping from his fingers. He ducked, catching it just in time. 

“Oh—I, um...Yeah! I made us all dinner. Go get cleaned up. I’m hungry.” 

Finn laughed, tapping Logan’s ass on his way to the bedroom.

“Quit your grumbling tremz, I’ll be right back.”

Logan rolled his eyes, shaking his head fondly at the retreating redhead. He was quickly distracted by Leo, shrugging off his coat while kissing Logan, his hands tangling in Leo’s hair. 

Leo grinned, lifting Logan onto the kitchen counter, swallowing his choked gasp when Leo’s icy fingers slipped up his shirt. 

Leo’s stomach grumbled viciously, and Logan pulled away, dropping chaste kisses onto Leo’s mouth in between fits of laughter. 

“Nous allons obtenir un peu de nourriture dans toi mon amor” 

Leo smiled, kissing Logan one last time before he toed off his shoes, putting them away neatly, immediately making a beeline for the food. 

Logan’s eyes darted around the room, frantically checking everything for the umpteenth time, mentally checking things off. 

“Mon Cheri? What’s up? You look a little pale.” Leo frowned, putting his hand on Logans forehead

“No fever, but you’re so sweaty. Are you alright?”

Logan grinned, shrugging it off as the summer heat, pulling away from Leo with a shaky excuse to set the table.

Holy shit that was close

~

Logan was almost positive he was going to have a heart attack. He was watching Finn and Leo having an animated conversation, Finn leaning over occasionally to kiss Leo, ruffling his hair fondly. 

Leo was laughing at something Finn had said, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his nose all scrunched up, his laughter so bright it could light up the world, and Logan knew in that moment, that it was now or never. 

Neither of his boys noticed when he slipped the little box out of his pockets, or even when he dropped to the floor in one feline motion. 

Logan looked up at his beautiful boys, smiling and laughing in the firelight and cleared his throat, giving the velvet box in his hands a little squeeze. 

Finn and Leo turned to look at him almost immediately, Finn’s hand slapping across his mouth when he saw the silver bands in Logan’s hands Leo’s laughter trailing off into a choked gasp when he finally saw the rings. 

Logan’s mouth twitched up into a smile as green eyes met hazel and then blue. 

“Finn, Leo, the both of you are the light in my life. You are the reason I get up everyday and the reason I am here at all. I never thought I’d get to have….this. I never thought there would be anyone who could love me as I am, rough edges and all, and I am so so lucky to have not one, but two of the most brilliant men in the world by my side. I love you both to pieces and I don’t know where I would be without you. You— you are my reason mes amours. And I— I’m not good with this….romantic stuff.” Logan paused, trailing off as he struggled to get his feelings across.

Leo had a hand across his throat, tears spilling down his cheeks as he gave Logan a watery smile, “you’re doing great, mon amour.”

Logan smiled, swallowing the lump in his throat. “But I just wanted to say that I love you. I love you more than I can say and there is nothing that will ever change that. I love you so much that it hurts sometimes, but that’s okay because what’s a little pain when I get to have you. Mes amours, you are the missing pieces I was look for. I love you and I will forever love you. Marry me?”

Logan realised the tears had slipped free, he was grinning even as the moisture slipped down his cheek. 

Leo shot Finn a look, squeezing his hand under the table as he wiped away the tears. Finn beamed, leaning his head against Leo’s as they both looked to Logan as one. 

“Yes! Yes yes YES!” 

The three of them were sobbing as Logan slid the rings onto their fingers, kissing the back of their hands lovingly. They collapsed onto the floor next to him, pulling him in close. 

This was home. This was love, this was joy, this was life. This was everything.

“Logan, mon amour as much as I love you, fuck you.” 

Logan pulled away from the embrace, his mouth falling open as he gaped at Leo 

“Excuse me, what?!”

Leo laughed, swiping at the tears on his cheek as he reached behind his head to undo the clasp on the chain he wore around his neck. 

“I was going to propose to you.”

Logan shared a look with Finn as they dissolved into laughter, doubling over as they looked at the two rings swinging slightly on the necklace. 

“You said those were your grandfather’s!”

Leo shrugged sheepishly. “Well it’s not like I could’ve just told you!”

Logan giggled, tackling Leo to the floor to press kisses onto every inch of skin he could reach. 

Finn laughed, tugging Logan back to him to press a long, slow kiss to his mouth. Pulling away to see love and joy shining in those green eyes he loved.

 Logan tipped his head to the side, dropping his head into Finn’s neck as he pressed soft kisses to the warm skin.

 “Oh my god I love my life.” Leo groaned from where he sat under Logan, the latter’s thighs pressed around his waist.

 Logan smiled into Finn’s neck, trailing kisses up the redhead’s jaw to his mouth even as he reached out a hand to Leo.

 Finn groaned aloud when Logan’s mouth met his, his fingers digging into the small of his back as Leo sucked a bruise onto Logan’s neck.

 Logan gasped, turning his head to meet Leo’s lips, kissing the blonde with a bruising intensity, his body trying to say everything his mouth couldn’t. 

Finn grinned as he pulled away from where he had a left a bruise of his own next to Leo’s, grinning as bright as the sun when he kissed the tops of their heads. 

“We’re getting Married!”

[cupiiid]

rainy days - three shorts following our favourite duos

1. chris and ginny

"This stuff feels sticky." Ginny whined.

"Don't be so dramatic, Gin," Chris sighed, amused. Unable to contain herself, Ginny betrayed her act with a grin. Chris just smiled and continued to apply the creme eyeshadow to her girlfriend. "You do this all the time already, you're an actress."

"I know, I'm just messing with you." They were at Chris' house, her parents were out in a business trip so she was left alone for a few days. As soon as they left, Chris called Ginny over for a sleepover and started to give her a makeover to practice her skills.

"Allllright," Chris dragged out. "all done." She held up a mirror to Ginny, letting her see how she looked.

"Woah," She breathed. Chris had transformed her entire face into some mythical being, a new interest of her's ever since she saw Midsummer. "I look really good"

"You always look really good." Chris commented. Ginny met her eyes and they sat there, just watching each other intently until Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips to Chris' gently, hands snaking up to her face. They broke apart for a second before Chris wrapped her hands around Ginny's waist and kissed her harder. They sat, making out for a little while, Ginny moving to sit in Chris' lap when a strike of lightening broke them apart, Ginny shooting up and letting out a little yelp. Chris snorted with laughter.

"Shut up," Ginny said laughing, hitting Chris in her shoulder.

"I think it's raining." Ginny got up off of Chris and helped her up, the two of them walking to the window to see buckets of rain falling in the late afternoon. They grinned and looked at each other. "You know what this means?" Ginny asked.

"Scary movie night?"

"Scary movie night." She confirmed.

Almost and hour later, the girls were cuddling on the couch with popcorn more than half way through Dracula. "I remember when this movie came out." Chris commented idly, her head on Ginny's lap.

"Oh yeah, you saw that with Chet, didn't you."

"I did. How do you know that?"

"I remember being really jealous of him." Chris lifted her head up off of her lap and sat up.

"You have nothing to be jealous of."

"Yeah, I know that now, but did you think I did back then?"

"Let me rephrase that. You never had anything to be jealous of. It was always you." Ginny smiled and pulled Chris in for a kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Gin. Always."

Let's just say neither of them payed attention to the rest of the movie that night...

2. neil and todd

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." Neil spoke. He and Todd were laying on his bed. Neil was reading him Hamlet as they lay tangled together on top of the sheets. Neil on his back with Todd's head on his chest listening to both his voice and Neil's heart beating in his chest.

"Have I ever told you how much I love it when you read Shakespeare?" Todd hummed dreamily. Neil huffed a laugh.

"All the time, love." He said, pressing a kiss to Todd's head.

"Good." It was a cold day at Welton, the boys had their radiator on high and relied on their lamps for light, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere. Neil kissed his head once again and just before he could continue reading, a crack of lightening sounded from outside. Todd got up quickly and practically ran to the window.

"Are you afraid of lightening?" Neil asked his boyfriend. Todd shook his head.

"No, I love it. It looks like a storm's coming." He turned to Neil. "What's the time?"

"Uh," He checked his watch. "around four." Todd looked at him in anticipation. "...What?"

"Can we go outside?" Neil sighed, weighing the options in his head. Carpe diem, he thought.

"Why not? We just have to be back by five so we can get changed before dinner." Todd grinned so wide Neil could see all of his teeth. He pulled him off the bed and have him a quick kiss before darting out the door, daring Neil go follow. Oh, how much he's changed, he thought happily before running after Todd.

By the time they made it far enough into the woods they wouldn't be seen, they were completely and utterly soaked, hair laying flat on their heads like helmets, jumpers heavily hanging off them. Neither could find it in themselves to care. Todd was spinning around in the rain, arms out, head back to feel the drops on his face. Neil ran up behind him and wrapped him up in a hug, arms circling his waist. Todd hummed happily and turned in Neil's arms, putting his own around Neil's shoulder, pressing their foreheads together.

They swayed gently to the imaginary music, spinning each other occasionally. Neither of them had ever been so happy. Both slow and needy kisses were exchanged in the rain that day. "I'm so glad I met you." Todd spoke. "Don't know where I would be without you."

"Get used to it Todd, because I'm not going anywhere."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

3. charlie and cameron

Charlie burst into his and Cameron's shared dorm room with a bang. "Jesus, Charlie. I'm trying to study. Do you have any respect for others?"

"Of course not. You've known me for years now, how did you forget that?" Cameron sighed and put down his pencil.

"What us it?"

"I'm going to cut right to the chase, my ginger friend-

"Don't call me that"

"-I need your help to get back at Hopkins."

"Why? What has he done?" Charlie sighed dramatically and flopped back on his bed. Cameron stared at him from his place at his desk.

"He ruined my prank on Hager by accidentally spilling the beans to him. Got me detention for a month as well as fifteen rounds with the paddle." Cameron cringed. He hated it when Charlie got beaten even if he'd never admit it.

"Then stop pranking maybe?" He faintly heard the sound of lightning outside. Neither of them payed it much attention.

"You're no fun."

"Hey," he said, putting up his hands in surrender. "you came in here and for my help." Charlie groaned.

"Only out of necessity. Trust me, I don't want to."

"Okay then, why not go find one of the others. Neil perhaps?" He said, starting to go back to his homework.

"Everyone else is busy doing something. You're the only one that's not."

"I'm literally doing homework."

"Yeah, like I said. Nothing." When Cameron didn't relent, Charlie begged. "Pleeeease, Cameron." He whined.

"What's in it for me, Dalton?" He finally gave in, dropping his pencil once again and turning to Charlie who only grinned.

"I solemnly swear to not tease you for two whole weeks. No pranks, no making fun of you." Cameron thought about it for a second. It really wasn't that great of a deal but he had been doing homework for hours now...

"Fine."

So that's how Richard Cameron ended up in this situation, distracting Hopkins as Charlie snuck into his room and put itching powder in his clothes drawer. This was so much more of a Neil job, if only he wasn't spending time with his boyfriend. (that's right, he knew about them. the boys often underestimated him. he was much more observant than they realised) Cameron couldn't converse for shit. "What did you need me for, Cameron?"

"Oh, uh, I... needed advice for the test on Monday! Yes, that's it." He lied (terribly). Hopkins gave him a quizzical look.

"You want my help on the test." Shit. He only realised how stupid that sounded now. "Did you hit your head or something?" Just as he was going to come up with another shitty lie, Charlie appeared behind Hopkins' shoulder, giving him a thumbs up.

"Um- you know what? Never mind." And sped off behind him, leaving Hopkins dumbfounded.

He caught up to Charlie who was whooping with laughter. "He's in for a surprise later on. What lie did you tell him?"

"Uh," He stammered. "I may have asked him for help on the chem test on Monday..." Charlie stood still for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You asked Hopkins for help?"

"Um... Yes?" They stood still for another moment before Charlie burst out in laughter. Cameron couldn't help the giggles that came out of his own lips at the sheer absurdity of the lie.

"Oh my god-" He gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"Shut up! I was put on the spot, okay?" That just made Charlie laugh harder and out his arm around his shoulders, walking through the halls.

"Maybe I should bring you on these more often."

"No." Charlie paused for a moment.

"Y'know, maybe you're not as much of a stick-in-the-mud as I thought." Cameron smiled.

"Maybe you're not as idiotic as I thought." They came to a window and saw it was pouring outside. Charlie looked at the rain, them back at Cameron. He tagged him quickly on the arm before running to the door that led out to the courtyard. "Tag! You're it!" Cameron smirked devilishly before following him out into the rain.

"Oh you're on, Dalton!"

[untaemedqueen]

Pirouette (M)

Ballet Teacher!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Request:  Can i request a ballet teacher jimin, who is strict in his classes and when his wife decides to join the classes, he tries his best to be sweet but it's hard because she's not really taking the lead and he shouts on her which causes her to cry and then he makes up to her in a sweet way, and some smut.😀

Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, Fingering, Unprotected Sex (Wrap and Tap Y’know The Deal), Choking, Impreg Kink (Very Slight), Cream Pie

A/N: i don’t know very much about ballet, I’m sorry. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

"Cheonsa, baby. Second position." Jimin tells his daughter as she grips the bar. You were impressed with how far she's come since just two months ago. It was probably because Jimin is such a great teacher. He lifts her chin with his index finger before kissing her nose. 

"Good job, baby girl." He whispers before standing up straighter. 

"Fourth position." Jimin says loudly in the quiet dance studio, one ankle in front of the other facing opposite directions. His thigh muscles jutting out as he places one arm out in a curve and one curved over his head. Cheonsa copies him before smiling at you, her left front tooth missing making you smirk. 

"Good job, babe." You call to her before looking back at your shirtless husband. His eight pack contorting and pressing against his skin as he looks over at his daughter. 

"She can contort so well because her joints are like putty at such a young age." Jimin informs you before smiling at his little girl. You wish you were this flexible. This is so impressive to look at. 

"Let's take a break." Jimin claps loudly as you throw him a bottle of water. He hums in agreement before sitting on the floor and pulling his daughter into his lap. He sips the water before handing it to Cheonsa, his fingers fixing her hair into a neater bun before kissing her cheek loudly. 

"My little angel girl. You're doing so well!" He says before tickling her, her sharp laugh echoing through the dance studio making you chuckle. 

"Mommy, will you do dance too?" Jimin snorts at Cheonsa's question, earning a glare from you. 

"Maybe! I can try!" Jimin leans back on his hands as Cheonsa gets up. 

"What're you saying? You're going to join my ballet classes?" You tilt your head, you don't see any reason not to, it could very well be fun and even help you become more limber. 

"Yeah! Sure! I'll join!" You say confidently which has Jimin pressing his lips together. You've seen him teaching kids but never adults. It's different in the adult realm of ballet. It's harsher and more demanding of folks. 

"I'm not sure you're going to like it." Jimin mumbles watching as his daughter pirouettes in front of the mirror. 

"If you're there anything is fun!" You tell your husband, he cringes at your words before tilting his head unsurely. "Just don't divorce me." 

Jimin smiles widely as he enters the dance studio, his eyes scanning the women in their leotards before his eyes land on you. He hums to himself quietly pleased with how you look before clapping his hands. 

"We have a new student today, Y/N. We'll try to be lenient until she progresses a bit more, hmm?" He calls out to the class, the women nodding before looking over at you and smiling. You smile back before pulling at your tights. They were...uncomfortable. Jimin had been in a rush this morning getting Cheonsa to school and so he accidentally packed you the most ITCHY leg wear possibly ever made. 

"We'll start with stretching." Jimin announces before taking off his shirt and turning on the ballet music. As everyone begins to stretch, you copy their actions watching how limber these girls are. They could wrap their legs around their heads! You could barely touch your toes without gasping for air and spots forming in your eyes. Jimin begins to stretch before eyeing you. His lips quirking upwards as you bend down. You know all of the positions, it's getting you into the positions that was going to take some time. 

"Jiyoung, stretch on the bar." Jimin tells his best student before standing up and stretching his arms. His feet pad towards you and you raise your head. His hand pressing on your lower back. 

"Go lower." He tells you quietly and you look up at him wide eyed. 

"I can't." You mumble already stretching to the best of your ability. 

"Yeah, well. You have to." He whispers before crouching down in front of you, his fingers carding through his hair before clearing his throat. 

"Lower. Touch my hand." He says placing his hand on the floor. Your back muscles begging for relief as you try to stretch farther. Jimin turns his head to the other women as they watch on. 

"Go through your positions." He tells them before bringing his attention back to you. 

"Come on, babe." He mumbles impatiently earning a dirty look from you. You touch his fingers before groaning and he stands up quickly without helping you. 

"Good." He says before leaving you to your own devices. You stand back up with a scowl before fixing your tight bun. 

"Acting like a fucking prick." You mumble to yourself as Jimin molds the other girls accordingly. 

"Do it right or don't do it at all." He tells a girl at the far end of the room folding his arms. You blanch at his harshness as he folds his arms. You watch him through the large mirrored wall. The way his jaw flexes in annoyance. This was a lot different than seeing him teach Cheonsa that's for sure. 

"Yes, sir." The girl at the end mumbles before straightening her posture. 

"Good. Again." He says backing up. He watches her go to sixth position once more before nodding. "It's fine. Legs up on the bar."

You turn your head wearily to the tall bar behind you, "Grip it and then bring your leg up. Quickly. Before Jimin gets mad." The girl now known to you as Jiyoung whispers fiercely next to you as he watches the girls at the end do so. You look over at the girl with a raised eyebrow, of course no one knows he's your husband. It's just better off that way. Especially since you're embarrassing yourself with your terrible form. 

"Are you 87 years old? Do it right." He tells a girl with a sharp voice and you go wide eyed grabbing the bar. This is insane, why is he so fucking nasty?! Jimin sighs loudly.

"Do we want to be the best?!" His voice is sharp cutting through the ballet music. 

"Yes!" They reply quickly. 

"Then. Do. It. Correctly. Let's go. Legs up. Arms over your heads." Jiyoung looks over at you before doing as told. 

"Y/N!" She mumbles to you as you grab the bar and try to lift your leg up. Jimin's head turns sharply to you before pressing his lips together. His feet stomp over before nodding to the bar. 

"Go on." You raise your leg before looking at him incredulously. He places his hands on your sides behind you before leaning in to your ear.

"Raise your leg like you did last night when I fucked you." He mumbles making you blush. 

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" You whisper fiercely turning your head to him. 

"Baby, you gotta do it. Lift your leg like when you put it on my shoulder." He steps back before nodding at the bar. You whine quietly before doing as told. Your thigh muscles tensing and screaming for help. 

"That's my good girl." He whispers to you before winking. He motions to put your hands over your head and you do so. He smirks before clapping. 

"Stretch your backs out ladies come on. What're you waiting for? An invitation?" You look over at Jiyoung who eyes you wearily. As she stretches she looks you over before nodding to herself. 

"You're Jimin's wife." She says before putting her leg down and stretching the other. You clear your throat before nodding. 

"Why'd you join?"  You can hear Jimin's sharp voice making you jump as you lean in to Jiyoung. 

"I thought it would have been fun." She snorts before folding her body over her leg. "Better drop out now, Mrs. Park. Your husband is not fun in this room." 

Jiyoung was right, Jimin was basically a drill sergeant. He had a sharp voice and attitude in his classes which was so surprising seeing as how he was this fun loving, adoring husband at home. It was surprising to you to see him so nasty to his students, you really didn't expect him to be like that at all. You did promise to stick with the classes though, because although your body hurt it was really wonderful to feel yourself able to run after Cheonsa easier and you felt healthier. 

"Okay, baby girl. One more time. Find the spot you will stare at and turn three times. Hmm?" Jimin asks sweetly to his daughter as he sits next to you in the empty ballet studio. You watch him wearily as he smiles at Cheonsa as she does as told. 

"Good job, baby girl!" Jimin claps happily before jumping up and grabbing his daughter. Throwing her six year old form in the air before easily catching her and spinning her around. She giggles happily before hugging his neck tightly.

 "Did I do good, daddy?" Jimin hums happily. 

"Of course you did!" You smirk at the sight before standing. 

"Mommy does good, too. Right?" Jimin smiles at Cheonsa before kissing her forehead. 

"Mommy is doing a good job, too." You snort before grabbing Cheonsa's bag and jacket. 

"Let's go change so we can go home." Jimin sets her down and like a rocket, she's off to the dressing room.

"Nutcracker Suite, I'm sure you know the ballet. We'll be performing for the Korean Tourism Association. There will be an audition process to see who is going to be our star." He looks at Jiyoung indirectly making you roll your eyes. You don't want to be in a ballet recital. You came for exercise but here you are, going to have to audition. You had been working at ballet for a few months and you had seemingly improved. Everyone in the class tells you so and Jiyoung is always on standby to help you and give you advice. It's just Jimin, he makes the class difficult to be in, with his sharp nagging and short cut words it makes you see a different side of him you really don't like. 

"Let's stretch and then we'll begin to practice for the Nutcracker." Jimin studies your form before leaning against the wall. Of course you were struggling but you had improved, you've never done this before. He was proud of you, but he wishes you were better. The whole class knew you were his wife now. He couldn't hide it, even if he was still sharp tongued with you it was always less so than what he would give the other girls. In his own selfish way, he wanted you to be better than the other girls. You were his wife after all. He felt like he had to prove something. As you stretch, Jimin sighs gently. 

"Bab- Y/N, you've got to stretch farther." He calls to you and you choose to ignore it. Jimin licks his lips before folding his arms. 

"Y/N!" His voice is sharp and loud, hurting your ear drums as you take a deep inhale through your nose and standing up straight. You tilt your head at him copying his stance. 

"What, you not gonna listen to me?" He asks loudly, shutting off the music. 

"I was stretching." You tell him, raising an eyebrow as the girls seem to stop what they're doing to watch the growing tension. 

"Yeah and I told you to do better." You put your head back before laughing gently. 

"I was doing my best." You say clapping your hands together before rolling your head to look at him. Jimin smirks before pushing his hair back. 

"Your best isn't good enough then. Is it? All these girls work tirelessly to produce the best results! You have to be better than you are right now. You can't be the best if you don't even fucking try." You take a step back before clearing your throat. Well, that was a punch in the gut. You look over at the girls before turning your head as your tear ducts begin to burn. It was stupid to join this class and still stay in it even after you know how Jimin was. He was like this with everyone, it wasn't just you but even still, it hurts. You look up at the ceiling before turning to the bar and hooking your ankle up on it. Jimin puts the music back on and bites his bottom lip. He's gone too far, he's embarrassed his own wife. 

"Fuck." He whispers to himself before rubbing his hands over his face. Jiyoung leans over and whispers comfortingly in your ear and Jimin can see how red your neck is. You're crying. 

"Oh fuck." He mumbles nervously before looking at the other girls. 

"Continue." He tells them before walking over to you. His hands pressing at your sides as he clears his throat. 

"Baby." He whispers gently, the gentleness in his voice makes you chuckle. You wipe at your tear streaked face before staring at the wall in front of you. 

"Don't touch me." You tell him sternly and he drops his hands. He rounds your body before leaning against the bar and putting his hands on either side of your face. He doesn't care if his girls see him. You are what is most important, even if his outburst showed the opposite. 

"Baby, I'm sorry." He says to you. He wipes at your cheeks with his thumbs and you sneer at him pulling your ankle off of the bar. 

"You're a prick." You tell him, making him sigh. You pull the bobby pins out of your hair, your long hair falling in rivets over your shoulders as Jimin watches you defeated. 

"Baby. I'm sorry! I shouldn-'' You cut him off by throwing the bobby pins at him making him nod his head. He deserves it. You did this to be with him and here he was not caring about your feelings and only his. Your eyes spill over with tears making Jimin's heart break. 

"Babe." He says lifting his hands trying to hold you. You undo the ribbons of your ballet slippers before picking them up and chucking them at his face. 

"Y/N! I'm sorry, baby! Really!" He says quickly as you sob gently. He shoves himself off of the bar trying to grab your hands but you're too quick. You back away from him making him sigh as you storm out of the ballet studio with your bag and your shoes. 

"BABY!" Jimin yells loudly as the door slams shut, the thud resounding throughout the room as Jimin puts his hands over his face. 

"Fuck!" He curses loudly before taking a deep breath. His body acutely remembering the girls to his left as he turns his head. 

"If you'll excuse me. Practice or stretch or something." He tells them before rushing out of the room to catch you.

Jimin is quick to burst through the door of the women's changing room. He could hear your gentle sobs as he storms through the rows of small metal lockers. His head dipping into every aisle before finally finding you in the last line of the metal containers. You were sitting on the wooden bench in the middle of the aisle. Your hands over your face as you whimper gently. 

"Aish." Jimin whispers sadly before throwing himself on to his knees in front of you. His bones smacking with force into the floor making him cringe before grabbing at your knees. 

"My baby. I'm so so sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry babe." He says quietly as you sniffle. 

"You're so fucking mean. I hate you." You whimper out wiping at your pink cheeks. Jimin kisses your clothed knees gently. 

"I'm sorry babe. Really, I am. I should have never said something like that to you. I'm a prick." He mumbles before kneeling straighter and hugging you tightly. You press your forehead into his shoulder hugging him back. Your tears coating his chest as you bite your bottom lip to bite back on your sobs. 

"I just wanted to have fun with you, because you're so passionate about it. I wanted to experience it." Jimin presses his lips into a straight line before petting your head. 

"I know, fuck, I know. I'm sorry." He whispers before kissing the side of your head. You sniffle once more before pulling away from him. Jimin leans back before pressing both of his hands to either side of your head. His plush, full lip pressing against your gently as he closes his eyes. 

"You mean so much more to me that this class. I'm sorry I embarrassed you. I just get worked up." He says connecting his forehead to yours. Of course, you were going to accept his apology. He is your husband after all, and on top of that you could see his genuine guilt. Jimin sighs before getting up and sitting next to you on the bench. His hands clasping yours before running his thumb over your wedding band. 

"I'll never embarrass you again. I swear it." You nod to him before wiping at your face. 

"I just won't come anymore. It'll be better that way." Jimin tilts his head before nodding. 

"Whatever you want, baby." You sigh before standing up and taking off the leotard. Jimin's eyes take in your naked body before clearing his throat. 

"Fuck, you're gorgeous." He mumbles to himself as you turn away from him.

Your bare ass on display as you bend over to open up the bag of clothes. Jimin isn't sure what to do, he can feel his cock becoming hard but after what just happened he wasn't sure if you would be receptive to his advances. His horny mind betrays him as he squeezes at your supple backside. 

"Chim." You whisper sharply as he dips his hand between your thighs and stands up. His body pressing into yours as he fingers at your closed pussy lips. 

"Park Jimin." You say to him as you grab your panties. Jimin hums to you before knocking your ankles open with his. Your body folded over the bench as you take a sharp inhale. 

"Let me make it up to you, baby." He mumbles before kissing down your back. You sigh gently at the feeling of his lips. They were one of your favorite parts of your husband. But, you shouldn't he has a class waiting for him and they could come in looking for him at any second. Which you voice to him only to be told, 

"Let them see me fucking my wife. I don't care." Your lower body begins to unfurl in heated passion as his fingers rub small circles on your clit. 

"Fuck, I want you." Jimin mumbles into your back as his erection grazes against your ass. You stand back up only to turn to him. 

"You shouldn't do this." You tell him as he hooks his arm around your waist pulling you against his body. Your bare breasts snacking into his chest as he leans down to capture your lips. 

"That's why it's fun." He groans as he fingers at your entrance, your pussy was soaked for him. Just the simplest of touches from him could have you gushing waterfalls. You gasp into his mouth, earning his tongue over yours as he enters a finger into you. His finger pumping in and out slowly as he rubs at your clit with his thumb. 

"Fuck!" You whimper putting your head back. 

"Still such a tight little cunt after having my baby. Fuck." He whispers before pulling down his tights. His hard cock springing out as precum begins to stream down his length. His cock was so thick it makes your mouth water and all you want to do is have it inside of you. Completely forgetting the nervousness you were feeling not too long ago as lust encases your entire being. 

"Let me fuck you." Jimin mumbles before kissing down your neck. His lips sucking pretty cherry blossom colored patches on your skin before leaving wet kisses on your chest. You can hear how heavy you are breathing as your head lulls back. Jimin's tongue darting out to lick at your nipple before suckling at your areola. 

"Oh fuck! Baby." You moan grabbing at his black hair. He groans in agreement as he pumps his fingers faster inside of you. Your wetness running over his hand and your thighs as you bite your bottom lip to quiet your whimpers. Jimin pulls his hand out of you only to stroke your wetness over his cock. 

"I can smell how badly you want my cock. Turn around." He mumbles pulling away from you.

You turn your body, pressing your hands on the bench to give yourself support as Jimin smacks your ass. A small gasp emitting from you as you close your eyes. 

"I love you so much." He tells you brushing his cock against your pussy. His eyes ogling how huge his cock looks as the head prods at your small hole. 

"I love you too." He smirks before entering you in one swift motion. Both of you moaning gently as he gives you no time to adjust to his size. His hand gripping at the back of your neck as he begins to fuck you. 

"Oh Christ! Your pussy feels so fucking good. Every time." Jimin's free hand kneading at the flesh of your ass as he pounds into you mercilessly. His tongue licking at his lips as your legs begin to shake. You bite your bottom lip to quiet yourself as you mewl for his cock. 

"Fuck, you're so wet for me. Shit." Jimin's voice was loud and uncaring if anyone could hear him. The sound of your wet cunt being battered by his cock resounding throughout the changing room. 

"You love my cock, don't you baby?" You nod furiously gripping at the edge of the bench. 

"Let me hear that sexy voice. How much do you love my cock?" You gasp as he stills his cock inside of you. He pulls you upright before hooking your leg up on the bench. 

"I love your cock! So much! I love it when you fuck me!" You whine for him, making Jimin hum in agreement. His fingers beginning to roll your nipples inbetween his fingertips as he begins to fuck you once more. His lips gliding over the base of your neck as he moans gently. 

"Oh fuck. You feel so amazing." His hand dipping between your thighs to rub at your swollen clit. 

"Yes!" You moan, putting your head back on his shoulder as he presses his hand to your throat squeezing gently. 

"So fucking willing to take my cock in such an open setting. You're so perfect." His praise has you squeezing your eyes shut as the band within you tightens. Your cunt begins to spasm as Jimin moans loudly. 

"So close to cumming deep inside your cute little cunt. Fuck!" His hand rubbing quicker circles as you moan his name. 

"I want your cum deep inside me!" 

"Yeah? You like that? Want to get filled up and have my cum leak out of your pretty little pussy? Feeling my cum run in between these sexy thighs? Hmm?" His voice is a hiss as he grits his teeth. Your hand grabbing at his on your throat as you moan for him. 

"Maybe I'll fuck a baby into you too. Hmm? How about that? Fuck you real good and make a little baby." Jimin moans gently as his balls begin to tighten. The feeling of his hand on your throat, his other hand stimulating your clit and his cock furiously pounding into you was too much. The band inside of you tightening fully as you whimper his name out. 

"Cum on my cock. Fuck. Be a good girl and cream all over me, baby." You grip at his hand tighter, your nails digging into skin as you moan loudly. 

"Just like that." You moan to him as he groans loudly, the head of his cock brushing your cervix entrance with every thrust. His grip on your neck tightens and you can't take anymore. Your orgasm hitting you with waves of pleasure as you sob out for him. Your body feeling like jello as you ride out your high. 

"Oh shit! So fucking tight." Jimin moans letting go of your throat before grabbing at your hips and bulldozing himself inside of you. 

"So fucking close! Gunna cum!" He mumbles biting at your shoulder before groaning loudly. His hips giving a few small pumps before stilling inside you. Jimin moans gently pressing his forehead into your back before hugging you tightly. 

"Fuck." He mumbles euphorically before kissing your shoulder. You hug his arms around you tightly as you stand there, the both of you trying to regain your breath. 

"I love you." He whispers before pulling out. 

"I love you too." He sits down on the bench before spreading open your pussy lips and watching his cum seep out of you. His tongue licking at his lips before smirking up at you. 

"I'm still mad at you for being mean to me." You tell him as you grab your underwear. He nods, grabbing your discarded leotard and wiping at your thighs before wiping his own cock. 

"I know. I love you. I'm sorry." You nod to him before bending down and kissing him. 

"When I get home later I'll make it up to you again, hmm? How about that?" He whispers before rubbing at your sides. You smile down at him and he responds by giving you a big smile himself. 

"Alright." He hums before wrinkling his nose. 

"You should get back, they're waiting for you." You tell him as he cards his fingers through his hair. He looks up quickly. 

"Oh fuck!" He mumbles picking up his tights. 

"I forgot about them." He whispers making you laugh loudly. 

"I love you baby." You kiss gently before slipping on your undies. 

"I love you too. Go on." You tell him shooing him away. 

"I'll make it up to you later! I swear!" He yells out as he jogs out of sight. Although he had embarrassed you, it was a good feeling to know how much he was sorry. Jimin was one way at his job but you were still priority. And, when he got home he did show you how sorry he really was.

[yourdreamscenarios]

When someone is rude to you

∙ Request ♡    ∙ Word count: 3,8K

“And that, is the story of my favorite steak.” Yoongi finished his ramble, lifting his glass in the air in some form of a cheers before drowning it in one go. Pressing your lips together into a straight line you tried your best not to laugh. You felt Jungkook’s hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze as he sat beside you. They all knew how Yoongi could get after he’d had a few drinks too many. The guys had invited you along for a group dinner, knowing that Jungkook would love for you to come. The two of you hadn’t been able to see each other often these past few weeks, both busy doing your own things. It had been a wonderful thought to spend the evening with your boyfriend and his friends before getting back towards your real life. Jungkook had been clinging onto you since you’d entered the dorm earlier tonight and refused to keep his hand further than a certain distance from your body at all time. “Wonderful, I really liked that part of the cutting. Didn’t you, Jimin?” Hoseok asked, and the younger boy nodded but dared not to say anything, a snort threatening to escape him. Yoongi turned towards him, placed a hand on his shoulder and gazed deeply into his eyes as he said, “That’s where the masterpiece is created.” 

At once the entire table lost its cool and laughter bursted from every single one of you. In an instant you were the loudest table in the entire restaurant as you all tried to compose yourself. You had never seen anyone create such a hypnotic and dedicated story about a piece of meat. Jungkook’s head fell back beside you, a loud and high pitched laugh escaping him before he stared around with twinkling eyes. You loved seeing him this happy and carefree. Moments like these, you wished you could take pictures from and save them somewhere, so you could watch them over and over again. As if feeling your gaze on him, he turned his head to look at you and nudged you with his shoulder while giving you a smile. “So, you two decided whether you’re going on that holiday or not?” Seokjin asked, watching the two of you interact as he was the one who had ended up siting in front of you. He’d complained like a little child at the start of dinner, complaining that he would have to watch the two of you flirting with each other all night. Attention got diverted from the steak and you felt all eyes point at you as you leaned your elbow on the table and rested your chin in the palm of your hand. “Not yet, we’re not sure…” You muttered, glancing sideways at your boyfriend. 

At the start of the year the two of you had decided that it’d be nice if the two of you would be able to take a trip together. It was one of the things the two of you hadn’t done since you were together. Obviously there wasn’t a lot of time for traveling due to your busy schedules and the trip had been delayed. Last month, it had been Jungkook who had brought it up again, suggesting that maybe the two of you should just go. But back then you had been in the middle of promotions, chin deep in work and it had just seemed an impossibility for you to make time for something so selfish. The guys kept encouraging you to take some time to yourselves, but so far the two of you still hadn’t actually said you’d go. “We should just drop them off at the airport, they’ll never leave on their own accords.” Taehyung said, nibbling some food of his fork as he gave the two of you a weirded smile. Pursing your lips, you couldn’t deny that what he said wasn’t true. Beside you, Jungkook straightened against the back of his chair and snaked his arm across of your shoulders. “We’ll go, one day.” Hoseok snorted at that, refilling his glass with the red wine which stood at the head of the table. “Right, you mean the day when the two of you are forced to go on your honeymoon?” Another round of snickers broke loose from the others as Jungkook’s cheeks flushed bright red. 

He swapped at the guy sitting beside him, who groaned and rubbed the spot where he’d been hit. “Laugh all you want, at least I’ve got someone to take with me. Perhaps you can ask that girl from the cafe you met last week?” Jungkook noted, and this time it was Hoseok who gained some color as he lifted his glass to his mouth and pretended being too busy to drink to respond. “We could all go together, it’ll be fun.” Jimin proposed, to which everyone gave some sound of agreement. Everyone was in need of a few days off it seemed. “I know where I’d go if I could chose.” Taehyung said, a bright look on his face as waiters arrived and started cleaning up the empty plates in front of you. Namjoon lifted a curve brow at his younger friend, wondering what he’d come up with this time. Jungkook had once told you that Taehyung could think of the weirdest travel destinations one could possibly imagine. A waitress appeared beside you, picking up your plate and cutlery. Tilting your head you smiled at her, wanting to thank her for her service, but your words died on your tongue at that same moment. 

You were used to getting those glares, you got them all the time. People seemed to think it was what you deserved after you’d stolen away their golden boy. Jungkook was loved by many, and jealousy was all over the place since the moment everyone heard you were dating him. You’d always told yourself not to take those looks personal, after all, they didn’t know you and they could only hate you for being in a relationship with Jungkook. The things they said, the looks they sent you, they couldn’t be pointed towards you as a person, but only because of what you had done. And you refused to apologize for loving someone. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner. Only may I advice you next time you order a smaller potion. You’ve started to look like a pig, especially in that dress.” The conversation the guys were having a moment before died out. A sudden silence fell over the table, and for a second the only thing you could hear was Hoseok sputtering as he choked on his wine. You could tell that Jungkook had gone rigid beside you. The girl simply continued to pile some plates on top of another as everyone stared her down. “Excuse me, what did you just say to her?” Jungkook’s harsh voice came from beside you, and you quickly hushed him by grabbing his arm and sending him a look. You didn’t want this entire thing to escalate, especially not in public. 

But Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was sending daggers at the waitress, who couldn’t be much older than himself. She blinked up innocently at him and sent him a kind smile. It changed her entire face, and if you didn’t know any better you’d almost say she looked angelic. “Oh nothing, just that you deserve better. You clearly weren’t in the right state of mind when picking her as your so called girlfriend. I mean, everyone who looks close enough can tell it’s fake.But that’s alright, better ditch that ugly bitch while you still can, bigger and better next time right.” She actually had the nerve to wink at him before sending you another foul look. A terrible heat spread itself across of your face in the form of shame as she turned around and walked away. You dipped low inside of your seat, realizing that other people had turned around to look at you, some of them sending you looks of pity, others looking very confused. Your boyfriend had gone completely silent, shock visible all over his expression. But the eyes said it all. There was a rage building inside of them which told you that it was only a matter of seconds before he would take the matter in his own hands and start a scene. 

“Alright that’s it, I’m not drinking another drop of this.” Hoseok spit as he placed his wine glass back onto the table with a loud clang, half of the content spilling over the rim and onto the table. Namjoon pushed his chair back and you could tell that even he was pushed towards anger, as red spots colored his cheeks. “I’m going to ask for the check. Gather up, we’re leaving.” He announced, and stopped for a second to squeeze your shoulder before he walked out of sight, his card in hand. The joyful sphere which had been hovering around all evening was gone in the blink of an eye, and you couldn’t help but feel horrible about it. “You don’t have to leave for me, I’m fine.” You reassured them, even though you could feel the insides of your skin pressing against your dress. You had been doubtful about your pick of clothing from the moment you had pulled this dress on. It sickened you, that someone was capable of making you feel this way. “We’re not paying for another thing here. I’d rather have some self cooked ramen at home than stay here one minute longer.” Jimin roared, his furious look shifting from left to right through the restaurant, almost as if checking if the girl dared to show her face again. Seokjin pushed his chair back without words, and pulled his jacket on with a blank expression. “Teach your staff some manners…Never heard anything like this…Unacceptable…” 

You could hear Namjoon’s soft but stern voice coming from behind you and when you looked over your shoulder to see who he was talking to, you could tell the man in the suit beside him was probably the manager. Silently you raised from your chair, tugged on your coat and couldn’t help but cross your arms together, hoping to hide some of yourself behind them. Immediately you felt a strong hand grab yours, which tugged your shield apart, causing your arms to fall limp next to your sides. “Don’t you dare.” Jungkook whispered, pulling at your hand to get you closer to him. As soon as Namjoon returned and got inside of his jacket, everyone marched towards the door. You didn’t dare look sideways, afraid you’d see that woman again, and you weren’t sure if you could face her now. “The steak wasn’t that good anyway!” Yoongi shouted through the entire room, and heads turned back into your direction as you made for the exit. Together you all huddled out on the street, making your way back towards your cars. Everyone remained silent, but you could tell it was loaded. Everyone had something to tell about what had just happened, they were just waiting for the right time to say it. Jungkook pulled you along with him, stopping at the back of Seokjin’s car, who you had arrived with earlier. Namjoon joined you and ushered the other guys on, who had gotten here with Hoseok and were all rushing to get into the vehicle. 

Without words Jungkook opened the door for you and stepped aside to let you in. You made yourself small, and let out a deep breath when you settled down on the backseat. As soon as everyone got in Namjoon started the radio, turned up the volume and led his friend into a conversation about songwriting. Though you knew better than to believe they weren’t secretly listening to everything that would be sat behind them. They were just trying to give you the illusion that you had some privacy here, which you loved them for. After taking a deep breath Jungkook turned towards you in the cramped space, and you tried to keep your face neutral as he studied it. “That woman…. You know she was just jealous of you, right?” He said, checking your reaction. You swallowed, and turned your head so you could stare out of the window. Night had fallen, but you knew that if you hadn’t been interrupted you would have been inside of that restaurant for many hours still. “Hey, look at me.” His voice softened as he placed his fingers underneath your chin and turned your head back to his. Blinking rapidly you tried your best to hide how you truly felt, but knew he’d be able to see straight through you. A fast pop song was playing, and you could tell that Namjoon was currently having a conversation with himself as Seokjin tried to focus on the road. Jungkook’s eyes drilled into yours, and you felt as if he was able to see straight into your soul and see all of your insecurities. 

“This is exactly what she wanted. She wanted you to feel like this, by telling you lies. Don’t let her.” He pressed on, and you couldn’t help but scoff, thinking it was an easy thing for him to say. Your eyes roamed his body, his black shirt which clung to his chest, his thighs visible through his pants. He always looked as if he walked straight out of a magazine. Besides, it was easy to brush words off if they hadn’t been directed towards you. You hurtled through streets, making your way back towards their dorm. By what you could see over Jungkook’s shoulder, you must almost be there. You couldn’t wait for this night to end. His hold on your chin loosened and the tips of his fingers tickled down your jaw before he brushed some of your hair behind your ear. His gaze was smoldering as he pressed his thumb against your lower lip, causing your heartbeat to speed up. “You’re beautiful.” His voice was barely audible over the loud music. If either of the boys had heard his confession than neither made it look like it. Your breath fastened on its own as he suddenly leaned in, pressing up against you in the small space of the backseat. His lips brushed past your ear, making you want to cling onto something. “I’ve wanted to rip that dress off of you from the moment you came down in it.” He said so without shame, his voice husky as the car pulled to a stop in front of the dorm. 

Pulling back, he wore a look of mischief on his face, and winked playfully while Namjoon turned off the radio and Seokjin shut down the car. “Alright, we’re back.” Namjoon said, as though the two of you hadn’t been able to notice. Your ears turned pink as you thought about what they had overheard about your conversation. Nobody made the first move to get out and after a while Namjoon turned around in his seat, giving you a apologetic look. “I’m sorry about what happened in the restaurant ______________. We never would have went there if we’d known something like that could happen.” He reassured you, and you felt terribly that he thought he owned you such a thing as an apology. You smiled at him, sending him a thankful look before patting hit hand which lay beside the headrest. “Don’t worry Namjoon, I’m fine. People like that, they just say stuff they don’t mean. It doesn’t have any effect on me.” You lied through your teeth, but it seemed to satisfy the boys, who clearly looked much more comfortable now. Their shoulders visibly relaxed as they shot you friendly smiles, the matter forgotten. Only Jungkook shot you a disbelieving look, and you stomped him against the shoulder as he shook his head and opened the door. Cold wind blew straight into your face as you got out of the car and stepped onto the driveway. 

The others were already waiting for you outside, and Taehyung immediately came to your side, throwing his arm around you in a comrade kind of way. “Don’t let it get to you _____________.” He muttered, giving you a friendly squeeze against his side as he led you out of the cold and towards the front door. “Her sight was clearly as bad as my steak. If you resemble a pig, than I’m not sure I know what a pig looks like.” Yoongi blabbered from somewhere behind you. “She’s just jealous she isn’t the one wearing that dress.” Jimin joined in, and Hoseok joined in with a loud, “That’s right!” Your cheeks warmed because of all the sweet words, and you were glad when you finally got inside and the attention was no longer on you. Everyone slowly went their own way, two towards the bathroom to take a shower, two spreading themselves out in front of the TV to watch a movie, one trotting over towards the kitchen to get a drink and one towards the terrace to get some air. Only Jungkook remained, glued to your hip. “Come on.” He muttered softly, tugging your hand and navigating you towards his bedroom. He shut the door behind himself as you wove deeper inside, shrugged off your coat and lay plopped down on top of the huge bed. 

You jumped up and down a few times, the suspension of the bed giving into your weight. You knew you’d feel better about this in the morning, but tonight, you just wanted to drown in self pity. “You know, perhaps this entire thing wasn’t as bad.” Jungkook suddenly stated as he loosened the button of his jeans and began to lower them down his legs. You tracked his movements, watching him intently inside of his boxers as he reached for his sweatpants and began to pull them on. You were so concentrated on this you even forgot to be annoyed by his words. “And why’s that?” You mumbled, ogling the way his fingers neatly made a knot with the strings, securing the sweats on his hips before he tugged out his shirt and replaced it with one of his old ones he referred at home. He showed off a blinding grin, pleased he had been able to give you a bit of a view before he made his way over to the bed. Without even the slightest bit of a warning his hands hooked themselves behind your knees and you squealed as he used his hold to tug you back towards the end of the mattress. “Because…” He said, leaning down, his face right in front of yours, noses touching. You could sense the smell of wine inside of his breath as he let go of your legs and placed his hands beside of your head. 

“At least I’ve got you to myself now.” He remarked before pressing a quick peck to your lips and throwing himself onto the bed beside you. You bounced slightly underneath his weight, and you rolled your eyes at his cheesy words. “I’m not in the best mood.” You warned him, hoping he wasn’t expecting too much from your alone time. There was no way you were getting naked in front of him tonight, not with all of these thoughts stuck inside of your mind. He scoffed and scooped you up as if you were some kind of feather and you giggled as he rolled you on top of himself. Folding your hands underneath your chin you wanted the way his hair fell in front of his eyes as he stared up at you. “I still can’t believe she had the nerve to say that to you. We were all there, we could all hear her.” He mused, pushing your hair back so it wasn’t falling in front of your face. You shrugged and followed the stitching on the collar of his shirt. His hands folded together in the small of your back, hugging you close. “That’s probably exactly what she wanted. She wanted to confront me in front of you, just to make sure I wasn’t the only one who knew she’d humiliated me.” You said, frowning as you stared at his collarbone peaking out from underneath the shirt. 

“But she didn’t, humiliate you.” Jungkook suddenly said, and you shot him a disbelieving look, wondering if he had attended a different dinner than you had. Before you could make a remark about that he quickly came to his own defense. “The only person she humiliated is herself. We all know you’re beautiful, no matter what people say. Once her manager is done with her, I’m sure she’ll regret causing a scene like that.” He explained, shrugging as thought what he said made perfect sense. You felt yourself blush but kept quiet never the less. No matter how much you disliked everything that had happened, you couldn’t help but be pleased with his flattering words. The corners of your lips tugged upwards as he rolled you over, careful to keep up his weight as not to crush you underneath him. “Besides, she’s probably right. I wasn’t in the right state of mind when I fell for you.” He said, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, the tips of his lashing brushing against your throat, causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin.  

“Is that quite so?” You asked, coming your fingers through his soft hair, tugging it slightly at the nape of his neck. He hummed playfully and you could hear the smile inside of it. “After all, I was a love sick fool.” He whispered, causing your heart to stutter inside of your chest. Pulling at his hair, he lifted his head and you were quick to guide his lips down on top of yours. His kiss was passionate as his hand slipped down the side of your body, stopping on top of your hip to keep hold on you. He gently nibbled at your lower lip, causing your nails to dip inside of his biceps. He chuckled, pressing sweet pecks down your jaw before putting one on top of your nose. “Now, I think you should take off that dress.” He recommended, and you blinked up innocently at him. “Why? Because it makes me look like a pig?” You asked sweetly, and something inside of his look darkened as he curled his arm around your back, searching for the zipper himself. “No, because I love to see what’s underneath it.” 

∙ BTS Masterlist ♡   ∙ Masterlist ♡

[space-------kid]

you need not ask.

Anime/Manga: Kimetsu no Yaiba Pairing: Genya/fem!Reader Additional characters: mentions of Sanemi and the rest of the Shinazugawa family Warning: Is Genya being adorably shy and flustered considered as one? Additional tags: Modern day AU, adult!Genya and Reader (you’re both 20-somethings *wink* *wonk*) A/N: No beta as always. Also – wow, this took too damn long hahaha pls don’t hurt me –

Summary:

After months of being into the relationship you think you could only experience in your dreams, your silly, adorably shy boyfriend finally asks for a kiss.

i. linger

“can i please have her?”

- crawl (alt. my heroine)/angels and airwaves

               “You have to move it like this, see?” Genya says as he separates locks of your hair into three portions, nimble fingers quick and precise as he weaves your hair into a pattern. “Over and under, then this one goes here. The rest is just a repeat. Over and under, you slip this one here, over and under…”

                He makes the mistake of looking at you where you sit close to him and sees the look of gentle adoration on your face. The familiar sensation of heat creeping up his cheeks makes itself known as Genya fumbles, messing up with braiding your hair. You chuckle at the adorable display and cups his face with your hands, carefully tilting his head up to meet your gaze when he looks away.

               The two of you have been dating for several months now and yet your giant of a boyfriend still maintained the endearing shyness he displays towards women, more so to you. Anything you deem cute is one of your many weaknesses, and your poor heart has been blessed with such a loveable man who goes by the name of Shinazugawa Genya.

               All those times serenading him with a single song whenever he passed you by months ago has definitely paid off, your huge crush for him being granted a step forward when he (finally) asked for your name and number. You never consider yourself to be a bold type of woman, but the very first time you’ve laid your eyes on Genya, your heart and mind seem to make a consensus and set themselves into grabbing his attention by doing what you’re terribly good at.

               And so you sang to him, silently pleading to any higher power who might listen for Genya to make the first move (as if you haven’t done it already, always singing the same song to him whenever you spot his adorable mohawk in the crowd and attempting to charm him with your winning smiles). You know you’re diving head first into your attempts at getting his attention, but who are you to blame? You’ve never had a proper crush before him, and you’re the hopeless romantic type who wants for her very first boyfriend to also be her last.

               God, you’re so cheesy. And you have a strong feeling that you’ve gotten worse when Genya finally asks you to be his girl.

               Genya’s girl. Damn, that sounds so nice. And you’re damn well sure that you won’t be choosing anyone else. You’ve never been more certain that it’s him you’ll only want in your life every single day.

              You grin, knowing that you’re sporting a blush on your face much like his.

              “Genya. You’re teaching me how to braid my hair. Don’t stop now,” you tease him, inching your face closer to his and rubbing your noses together in an eskimo kiss. The action seems to deepen the blush on your boyfriend’s face, the lovely colour creeping up his ears and neck.

              He ducks his head, closes whatever distance is left between the two of you (practically none), and buries his face in the crook of your neck while he wraps his arms around your waist and you know that he is steadying himself. It’s taken you a solid two months before he can even initiate physical affection and instead of getting annoyed, you love him all the more for it. So shy and respectful. Damn this man and his natural shyness. You’re positive that he will be the death of you, but it is a death you’d gladly embrace.

              “Then s-stop being so cute,” he whines against your skin, and you can practically feel his bashfulness as he hesitantly places a soft kiss on your pulse point.

              Alright, point taken. He really is going to be the death of you. For someone who only limits himself to kissing your cheeks or your hands, Genya moving up to your neck was a rather bold move for you. You’d be a hypocrite if you deny how much you like it, though, as butterflies not just danced but partied in your stomach.

              Thoughts of teasing him flee you when Genya’s lips move further up your lower jaw, your eyes widening in surprise while your heart practically pounds against your ribcage. He slowly pulls away, a hint of a smile making the corners of his lips twitch minutely at the sight of your flustered face.

              “Alright, I take that back,” he tells you as he stands up, leaving you seated on the couch by yourself. He places a hand to your head to gently pat your hair as you look up at him, confused and still blushing.

              Emotions still reeling pleasantly from your boyfriend’s boldness, you tilt your head to the side and stutter a bewildered, “W-What…?”

              “Ah…” Genya lifts a hand to gingerly scratch at his cheek with a finger, diverting his gaze from you as the small smile on his face blows up into a huge but still shy grin. “Stay cute, [Name]. Nah, scratch that. You’re always cute, even now.”

              With that, Genya makes a hasty retreat to your flat’s kitchen, his muffled and adorably meek chuckles at the stunned look you’ve given him making you fall even harder in love for him.

______

              Your silly boyfriend has been acting weird these past few days, and you have to be honest to yourself and admit that it worries you.

              If you remember it correctly, Genya’s strange behaviour began when he has spent one afternoon with Mitsuri-san and her husband, Obanai-san. One of Genya’s younger sisters – Sumi, you think – is a fan of the city’s resident herpetologist, and the second eldest Shinazugawa child have told you of his planned trip to the Iguro household to get some advice on what small reptile should Sumi take care of first.

              When he comes back home to your shared flat, you immediately notice how Genya shyly looks away when he spots you picking irritably at your suddenly chapped lips (damn the winter season for creeping real close). He usually stops and gently chides you for doing so and would then offer you one of your numerous flavoured chapsticks to soothe your lips.

              He hears you let out a light yelp when you picked at the skin a little too hard, a small drop of blood welling where it cracked. You remember how Genya’s face contorts with worry, one of his hands immediately cupping your cheek and softly dabbing the blood off with his thumb.

              You remember how he stares too hard at your lips, his eyes glazing with an emotion you can’t read, and how he seem to snap out of his daze and hide his suddenly flushed face from you.

              This strange obsession of staring at your lips whenever he thinks you’re not looking persists for days, and days have turned to weeks until you pull yourself out of your own obliviousness. Of course, it can only mean one thing.

              Genya, your silly boyfriend, wants to finally kiss you!

              Maybe he’s witnessed how Mitsuri-san and Obanai-san interact as a married couple during his visit. After all, Mitsuri-san doesn’t hold back with showering her beloved husband her undivided affection. Maybe… Maybe Genya is an unsuspecting witness of kisses shared between the two?

              You can only imagine how embarrassed Genya must’ve felt at that moment, and yet…

              You’d be full-blown lying to yourself if you deny that you have been thinking about kissing him, too. But you know how shy, reserved, and easily flustered your poor darling is and you find yourself curbing your desire to just pull him down to your level and give him a quick smooch. You have spent quite a lot of time imagining how soft his lips must be against yours, and how he’d kiss you – will Genya lightly press his lips to yours, or will he be peppering your lips with butterfly kisses? Perhaps he’s particular with languorous kisses, his lips sometimes finding their way to your cheeks, forehead, lower jaw, and the tip of your nose? Or maybe he’ll turn out to be the type who’d softly nibble on your lower lip with those pearly whites and cute canines?

              You are quick to rule out French kisses in your list. You’re quite sure that asking Genya for one would lead to his untimely death.

              (You’re always so sweet, mindful, and respectful of his bashfulness – you have no idea how much Genya adores you for your patience with him.)

              And so you wait for him to make his move, knowing that your patience will be rewarded sooner than later.

______

               It’s raining tonight, and Genya comes home to find you snoozing on the couch, his favourite purple, cable knit jumper practically swallowing your petite frame.

               He makes his way around your shared flat, mindful of making any noise that might wake you up. He changes into something comfortable, phones Sanemi and their mom to ask how their day have been, and quietly walks back to the couch to sit beside you.

               Genya watches you sleep, his heart beating a mile a minute as he admires how softer your features seem in your sleep. Gently, he removes the distance between the two of you and scoops you in his arms, carefully repositions you on his lap, and lets your head rest on his shoulder.

               A soft smile appears on Genya’s face as his gaze remains firmly fixed on your face. He can feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest, as well as your solid, comforting weight against him. He towers over you and yet it never escapes him how your soft curves slot perfectly in the hard and muscled planes of his body.

               His gaze find its way back to your face, and Genya doesn’t mind the red painting his cheeks because you cannot tease him in your slumber. Gently tilting your head up, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, then to your eyelids and the tip of your nose. He stops, however, when you shift a little then slowly open your eyes.

               “Hi,” he greets you voice soft and face red. He melts a little inside when you smile sleepily up at him, clutching his shirt with one hand and burying your nose on his chest to breathe in his scent. You have always been open to him with things like this, telling him that his scent always calms you and eases your worries.

               “Hi, love,” you greet him back. You pull yourself away a little and shoots him a coy grin. “I thought I fell asleep on the couch…”

               Genya catches the teasing tone in your soft tone drowsed by the remnants of sleep, sending him into yet another blushing fit while he played along.

               “You look comfortable, but not enough, see,” he tells you with an endearingly meek chuckle.

               “Mm… you’re right,” you mumble, snuggling back on his broad chest. “This is much comfier.”

               You feel your boyfriend’s lips on the top of your head, his contented hum rumbling in his chest and into your frame pressed against him. You spend the next minutes in restful silence, one of Genya’s big hands rubbing circles on your back in a soothing manner while his other arm is draped casually over your thighs. His presence and gentle touches are more than enough to send you back to your peaceful slumber, but it seems that your boyfriend has something else on his mind.

               “[Name]?”

               Fighting off sleep is an easy task when you hear hesitation in his voice. You tilt your head up to look at Genya and sees that his gaze is anywhere but yours. His face is redder than usual, too, coming up to the tips of his ears then travelling down to his neck and even further below his shirt’s collar.

               “Gen…?”

               The hand on your thighs travelled to the hem of his sweater you are currently clad in, fiddling nervously on the soft fabric while he musters the courage to look directly at your face. His smile is pinched with worry, so you place a hand on top of his busy one in an attempt to calm him down.

               “We, uh… w-we’ve been a couple for months now…” he begins, face so red you would mistake him for a mohawked tomato. You can practically feel the heat of his embarrassment, see how his eyes dart from your [colour] orbs down to your lips and you are given the whole gist of what topic he’s trying to broach – something you have also been thinking a lot about yourself. You let him finish talking, however. No use in getting him more nervous than he already is, don’t you think?

               You hum your acknowledgement, smiling encouragingly up at him while putting on an inquisitive front that screams what are you trying to tell me?

               Genya swallows down his anxiousness, reciprocating your smile with a pleading, shy one.

               “I just… I want to…” He averts his gaze for a few seconds before it’s back at you with a full-blown focus. Genya moves his hand from the hem of his sweater up to hold your hip, his eyes shining with bashful determination.

               “May I kiss you?”

               The question comes surprisingly smoothly past his lips and it is your face’s turn to explode into a blushing mess. You grin up at him with sudden self-consciousness, biting your lower lip and letting a small giggle burst out of you. What an endearingly shy gentleman your boyfriend is. Who do you thank again for being blessed with such a fine lover as he is?

               “You really shouldn’t ask, Genya,” you tell him, trying not to sound too excited at the prospect of finally unlocking this achievement of knowing how his lips would feel against yours – and out of his own volition. “Although… now I’m even more in love with you for doing so.”

               You laugh when he closes his eyes in profound embarrassment, hand squeezing your hip in a bid to chip away at your amusement.

               “W-Why do you say cheesy stuff like that, [Name]?” he groans with half-hearted heat, ducking his head to bury his nose in your hair. You stifle your laughter and gently pry his face off of your hair.

               “Do you want me to say cheesy stuff to someone else, then?” you tease him. Heavens, Genya will indeed be the death of you – he’s just too cute!

               “No!” He sounds so alarmed – you can’t take too much cuteness from him in just a single day. “Don’t try it, or else I’ll…”

               “You’ll what?” you playfully taunt him. “Kiss me? ‘Cause as far as I’m concerned, Genya, your lips haven’t even touched mine yet!”

               “You’re killing me. You’re killing me and you’re having the time of your life while doing it.”

               “And you’re killing me, too, making your girlfriend wait and all that…”

               Genya presses his forehead to yours, the tips of your noses touching. “I’m mentally prepping myself,” he tells you in a slightly serious tone. “I’ve been thinking of kissing you – wanting to kiss you – for weeks now, and–“

               “Then do it,” you tell him. “And I’m telling you, you need not ask.”

               Your words of affirmation seem to do the trick. Emboldened by your words, Genya crosses whatever distance is left between your lips and kisses you.

               It’s a simple peck, really, and he pulls away as fast as he presses down – but you’re torn between saying that it’s enough and it isn’t. You’ve only been given a second to enjoy the surprising softness of his lips but you don’t want to tell him that you’re disappointed–

               Genya surprises you by diving back down, pressing his lips against yours and actually lingering for more than a few seconds before pulling away and giving you butterfly kisses. You are quick to reciprocate, chasing after his lips when he pulls away, your hands moving up to tangle your fingers through his hair. You let out a soft noise of astonishment when you feel his tongue dart out to swipe shyly at your lower lip, causing Genya to pull his burning face away with a worried look.

               “I’m sorry! I didn’t know what came over me! Did… D-Did I overstep…?” he asks you hesitantly, but you can clearly see on his face that he doesn’t want to stop kissing you yet.

               Smiling brightly, you shake your head no and pull his face down to your level. “Of course, you didn’t. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

               The fretful look on his face dissolves into relief. “Oh. Oh, good.” And with that, he’s back to shyly blessing your lips with butterfly kisses in between his words. “You know, I’m kicking myself everyday about this… and… now I’m wondering why I…” he presses a little too long, enough to leave the two of you breathless. “…waited this long. I could…” another kiss. “…do this every day. Just… kiss you to prove how I fall in love with you every… single… day we spend together…”

               He pulls himself away, but just enough so he can stare at you oh so lovingly, you can feel yourself turn to putty in his soft kisses and beautiful smiles. Genya ducks his head to meet you halfway, your eyes automatically falling shut as sparks fly once more when your lips connect with his. It’s just pure magic, this moment you’re sharing with him, and if this is what drowning in love feels like then you would gladly sink deeper into his arms and lips and smiles and love and just drown in him–

               The two of you smile at each other through your kisses, unafraid of this moment coming to an end. With both of you being hell-bent into choosing each other, then you can always recreate the feelings you are sharing with this first kiss.

               “But seriously,” Genya wonders in mock innocence, looking as if he is trying to get back at you for teasing him. “Why did I wait so long to kiss you? Maybe–“

               “Oh, I wonder why, too,” you cut him off innocently – far too innocuous for your boyfriend’s liking. “And here I was, thinking that you’re preparing for a French kiss or something.”

               Genya tilts his head to the side in confusion. “French… kiss?”

               You grin up at him, wriggling your eyebrows suggestively. “You know… a really deep kiss, with tongues involved… and maybe a lot of touching.”

               Genya remains unresponsive for the rest of the night, face pale and constantly muttering “oh, gods, I can kiss you like that?” even as the two of you are telling each other good night. You can only hope that you haven’t brought your poor boyfriend to a near catatonic state with that smartass quip of yours.

 .

.

.

.

[rpd-rookie]

I’ll Make An Agent Out Of You - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: From cute rookie to badass agent who can supplex the s*** out of you, there's sometimes only one step, or one woman. But what a woman.

Author’s Notes: This is  the first chapter from my new fanfic. It is about Post RE2 Leon and the beginning of his training in the US.STRAT.COM because we clearly don't know enough about it. Expect SMUT at some point (probably in the last chapter) and deep sexual tension. Hope you will like it. Again don't forget to reblog, like and give me your opinion. PS: if you end up singing ‘I'll make a man out of you’ after reading the title, it's not my fault.

Warning: For now, just language because the first chapter is merely an “introduction” 

Also available on AO3

Leon had been left with no choice. Alone and locked in an interrogation room, the man who had introduced himself as Adam Benford had made sure that he would face down the ultimatum with no possibility of refusal or negotiation and he had made the terms very simple. Sherry’s safety against years serving the US government in the fight against Umbrella. A blackmail more than an offer, in Leon’s opinion.

And so here he was, a couple of weeks later or so, barely recovered from a gunshot wound and from the trauma he had experienced in Raccoon City, waiting in a meeting room of US.STRAT.COM headquarters, surrounded by a variety of highly qualified military men who were giving him the undeniable impression he didn’t belong here. After all, just a few days ago, he was still a rookie ready to start his first day in the force while now … well, he wasn’t sure who he was. Was he still a cop? Nothing at all? Or just some regular guy who had luckily survived a zombie apocalypse?  

“So, you’re the rookie from Raccoon.” Leon looked at the man sitting in the row in front of his who had just called him out. He was older that him, with a stern square face and scrutinizing narrow brown eyes, and judging by his uniform and the way he was proudly displaying the insignias on his chest, a seasoned Marine. “Is it true what the rumors say? You’ve seen those things?” You could tell there was a permanent condescendence in his deep husky voice that fitted his Alpha male persona. Leon didn’t like it at all. He had spent enough time at the academy being bossed around by that kind of asshole. But out of respect, and because he was a very patient and wise man despite his young age, he chose to remain polite. “That depends on what the rumor say, I guess”     The man unsurprisingly scoffed and looked up and down at Leon, clearly not impressed. “If a rookie like you survived, they must not be that terrible then.” He added before turning his back on Leon whose teeth were so clenched right now he could have broken them. “Asshole” He soundlessly mumbled.

“Are you lost, angel? Because heaven is a long way from here.” Leon looked up at Marine guy again; eyes furrowed and already tired of his presence. Then he looked at the victim of his terrible pickup line. And it was you, the only woman that had been invited to this meeting.         You had been searching for the seat that had been assigned to you at the entrance of the meeting room when Marine guy had called you out. And ignorance not being you thing, you had stopped to stare at him with a hypocrite smile.       “No, I think I’m at the right place. Thank you very much. However, I do believe the ‘Flirting for Dummies’ course is at the end of the corridor. You should hurry.” Marine Guy’s square jaw dropped in astonishment and he found himself unable to retort. Guess, he wasn’t used to sarcasm or rejection, especially from a woman.         “Damn, man. She burned you.” Another man - who certainly knew Marine Guy – mocked him, a hearty laugh coming out of his wide opened mouth. And that was certainly a bit too much to handle for Marine guy since he gritted his teeth and glared at you as you sat at your place.

Still like a marble statue, you decided to patiently wait for the meeting to start, trying to ignore Marine guy’s brown eyes looking daggers at you. But they weren’t the only eyes on you right now, as you could also feel Leon’s impressed sparkling blue eyes gazing at you. You chose not to glimpse at him, however. After all, you were here for work, not to socialize. Too bad, because Leon would have loved to congratulate you on your sharp sarcasm and thank you for shutting Marine guy up.

Suddenly, Adam Benford entered the room. Everyone stood up to salute him as he took place behind his reading desk with a grave look on his lined face, still looking incredibly charismatic nevertheless.   He waved everyone in the assembly to sit down and waited for an absolute silence to speak.

“I know what most of you must think right now. Why are you here? Why gathering members from so many military corps and agencies? What does an Air Force pilot have in common with an FBI agent? What does a Police Rookie have in common with a CIA officer?” Benford glanced at both Leon and you, one after the other. And that’s how your eyes met for the first time. But it surprised Leon because he had expected you to give him the same condescending look everyone had been giving him since he had entered this building, not a respectful admiring little smile and nod. But you were not like everyone else in room. You knew things. You had heard of him in ways others hadn’t.           “Why gathering the best men America ever trained in a same room? Well, here’s why.”

A video started playing on the screen of the meeting, showing images recorded during the Raccoon City incident, images from the CCTVs, tapes Leon had brought back from his nightmarish ordeal, tapes about Umbrella, about the Nest, about the Birkins. And he could not watch this footage anymore. He couldn’t watch it without feeling a knot in his stomach or the irrepressible will to puke and scream of rage. He couldn’t even hear it, the mere zombie growl reviving memories from the RPD station crowded with undead policemen and citizens, giving him the oppressive impression he was still in there with them, smelling their rotting flesh and skin flooding in the ambient air with an atrocious reek and seeing their skulls crack and burst with a thick splash of boiling blood after each gunshot. A traumatic bloodbath he knew he would never be able to forget and that would haunt him for the rest of his life.    

When the screen went white again, a heavy silence took possession of the room. No one dared to speak. No one dared to look at each other. Except you who were watching at the young man sitting few chairs away from you, still like a marble statue, haunted blue eyes looking down at his shoes. Poor Leon.

“Once you leave this room, whatever your decision may be, you’ll carry the secret behind the Raccoon City incident on your shoulder. No one can know about what truly happened there. No one. Not even your family. And I want you to think about your family. Will you allow them to live in a world like this, threatened by deadly viruses and bio-organic weapons? Or will you join us and fight the responsible behind this so that your loved ones may live a happy safe life?”        

You slowly yet assuredly raised your hands and all eyes set on you, Leon’s included. Adam Benford nodded to allow you to ask your question. “Where shall we sign?”  The old man smiled at you, far from being surprised by your bravery and your devotion. After all, he was the one who had trained you, few years ago.             “Sign?” Marine Guy harrumphed. “Sign for what? Umbrella is doomed to be bygone, right? And if that kid survived,” He pointed at Leon who immediately furrowed his brows. “then I’m sure anyone can.” You shook your head, glaring at him exasperated by his behaviour until Leon chose to stand up.       “Umbrella is still there, standing and operating in facilities all around the world as we speak. And they won’t disappear soon. Who knows how many samples of the t-virus or worse can be found in their lab, each of them having the potential to wipe out entire populations. We can’t let what happened in Raccoon City happen again. That’s why we need to sign. Because the fight has just begun and it is our duty to stop it, whatever it takes.”

He had made an impression. You could tell by the way everyone even Benford was looking at him right now. And with good reasons. He had charisma, determination and a thirst for justice who hadn’t seen much in your years of service. He had potential. Maybe Leon Scott Kennedy was merely a rookie but you were sure as hell he’d become one hell of an agent, one day.

That’s why you were not surprised when, at the end of the meeting, some men went to shake his hand and congratulate him on his words. “They’re right you know. You’ve got a thing with words.” You declared as you extended your hand. “I’m Y/N Y/LN.”       “ Leon S. Kennedy.” He said as he shook your hand. “I know. I guess we’ll see each other again pretty soon then, as well as other people.” You nodded towards Marine Guy who was talking with Adam Benford. Of course that piece of shit would join the team, not out of conviction but more out of pride and selfish ambition. “Well, I guess the STRATCOM needs to hire a certain percentage of men like him.”         “ You can say the word ‘asshole’. We’re not in the academy anymore and I won’t tell.” He chuckled and scratched his head as if he was a bit embarrassed. “I’m serious, Kennedy. You’re playing in the big league now with people that are way above your punches. You need to stop acting like a rookie and establish yourself as one of them. Be bold. Show them you’re not just a lucky survivor or they will always treat you like that, despite the few handshakes they give you at the end of the day.”           “But I was lucky.” Leon corrected you, not really knowing what to say to your advice. “There’s no such thing as luck. You survived because you had skills. And do you know what you have that Marine Guy doesn’t despite the stripes on his shoulders?”       “Modesty?” He joked and you smiled, finding him rather cute and sweet. “Experience.” You said. “You’re the only one who faced those BOWs here. Use that at your advantage.” “You seem to know what you’re talking about.”   “ I’m a woman in man’s world, doomed to be forever treated like a rookie if I don’t show my strength. So yeah, I know what I’m talking about.” Leon stared at you in silence, definitely impressed and bewitched by your attitude. You had spunk, audacity, confidence and you seemed to know what you wanted. And Leon couldn’t deny he was finding this extremely attractive in a woman. Gosh, it certainly was one of the reason Ada had got to him so easily. “ Anyway, see you soon… Kennedy”

The way you pronounced his name left him rooted to the spot and unable to speak. And so, he watched you leave with a self-assured gait, smirking like an idiot. “Women.”

[sommerfelds]

FOR ALL THREE SOMMERFELDS: HOW DO THEY SHOW LOVE??

          libby, you are an angel and i love this ask because i have SO many thoughts about this for all three kids.

          ezra :         will make you gifts by hand.   he’s never quite sure if he’s good at the whole love thing, on any front, but he sure does try really hard.  ezra’s a very  hands-on  sort of person with about a million hobbies and his birthday / hanukkah / everyday gifts for everyone tend to be gorgeous handmade items of various sizes and types.  he crochets.  he makes soap.  he makes jams and pickles things.  he builds bikes.  he rebuilt a classic car as a wedding gift for his brother and his husband.  he knows it’s kind of an odd way to express his affection, but it’s  his  way and he just can’t seem to not do it.  so if you care about him and he gives you a candle he made, or a scarf, or some preserves  ...  validate him, because he’s trying really hard.

                                 will listen to you.   ezra’s typically not much of a talker  -  although there are exceptions  -  but he will listen for hours, if you need it.  just listen.  he doesn’t always know what to say and he’s  very  bad at solving social / personal problems  ( so he thinks )  but he can lend an ear and often does with people he cares about, even if he has no real advice to give.  however, if he  does  ...

                                 will try to fix things.   that’s where the third bit comes in.  ezra often feels his greatest use is simply in his utility  -  so he has a tendency to try to fix things.  any problem he feels he can tackle for somebody, he will.  like i said, in terms of social / personal problems, he often doesn’t know what to do, but if you bring to him an issue to talk over that he feels he can help solve, he  will  try to do so, and thus sometimes has to be asked very softly to just listen and let someone work through something.  on the flip side, if you tell him that your car has been making a weird noise or that there’s something up with your garbage disposal or the chain on your bike is acting weird, he’ll show up at your place to fix it without being asked  ...  which we have to admit is pretty great.

                                  will defer to what the people he loves wants.   ezra isn’t really very good at standing up for himself to start with, but when he loves someone very much  -  romantically, platonically, or in a familial way  -  he will basically go with the flow of whatever that person wants.  this is, of course, a double-edged sword, because while it can be very sweet with the right person, it’s very NOT sweet when he’s with the  wrong  person and they steamroll him without trying to figure out what it is  he  wants  -  which is, of course, partially because he  does  need to get better about voicing his own desires and needs.

          simeon :     small meaningful gestures / quality time.   this is a love language he learned from his mother.  while sim isn’t always very good when it comes to voicing his affection,  particularly  in romantic situations, he instead does little things to subtly prove he cares.  he remembers your favorite dessert.  he cooks your favorite meal for you, even if he’s never tried that dish before.  he spirits you away for spa weekends when you’re stressed out.  if he knows you’re uncomfortable with asking for / receiving things, he’ll pretend like you’re doing HIM a favor by coming over to his place and having a relaxing movie night where you paint each other’s nails or snuggle up under a blanket on his comfy couch and watch movies or sit under the stars on his patio.  despite appearances, he REMEMBERS little things about the people he cares about and uses that information to do little things to remind them that he loves them.

                                  physical touch.   simeon isn’t very touchy  -  until he is.  there are only a small handful of people he’s physically affectionate with, but with that handful of people, he is  incredibly  affectionate.  when he’s with his husband or his best friend or his mother, or one of the very few other people he trusts, he will not stop holding their hand or brushing a hand through their hair or kissing their temple.  physical touch with someone he trusts makes him feel grounded, just as physical touch with someone he  doesn’t  trust absolutely repulses him.  to tell the truth, it’s really quite cute to watch  ...  most of the time.

                                  words of affirmation.   this one can be hard to pick out, with him, because there is a difference between his sincere compliments and the ones he gives people for show.  those who know him well can tell the difference in his tone and the way his eyes light up and get warm.  he knows how to use compliments to ingratiate himself with people when he needs to   (  he plays the entertainment world like a fiddle that way  )   but the way he speaks affectionately to those who matter to him is far different.  he’s always telling his closest friends how beautiful and cherished and loved they are, one way or another.  if you got a new outfit?  a new lipstick?  changed up your hairstyle?  found a new moisturizer?  simeon notices and comments ;  he wants to make the people he cares about feel good about themselves, always.  he also pays attention to the things that they might need to hear to validate them, and tries to do so as often as he can, when he gets to a certain place with someone.

                                  reading your love language.   sim is fairly adaptable in this regard, believe it or not, and once he’s close enough to someone, he will make sure he learns  their  love language and try to speak to it  -  even if he isn’t always the best at it.  of course, this requires that he becomes  very  close to someone and trusts them  very  much  -  but despite appearances and despite how guarded he can often be about his heart, he is fundamentally an incredibly soft man who, by nature,   wants   to give back, especially when he feels safe and cared for.

       shoshana :     lets you into her space.   shoshana is a fairly closed off person in general, which is no secret.  she likes to cultivate and maintain her space as her own, which is why she would always have trouble with the concept of living with someone.  a good indication of sho starting to open up is her being more and more willing to allow someone into her private spaces, such as allowing lovers to sleep over and stay at her apartment for significant periods of time, allowing them to leave a jacket or sweatshirt at her place  -  god forbid a  toothbrush !  if it becomes actively obvious that somebody is staying over at her apartment with some frequency, it means she’s beginning to grow feelings, and with that comes a growing space in her life that may seem small and quiet but is actually very significant.  this also applies to shoshana inviting someone to events, especially those at which family will be present, or ANYTHING having to do with her work ;  both of those things are actually deeply important to her.

                                  small touches in public and private.   she isn’t terribly affectionate, typically ;  not with her family or friends or anyone else.  but while she’ll never be an overly affectionate person, it’s a pretty clear indication that she’s growing some serious feelings for someone if she’s seeking small touches here and there.  if she takes your hand, if she leans her head up against your shoulder, if she links her arm in yours or brushes your hair behind your ear  ...  these are all things that seem very small, but shoshana ABSOLUTELY does not like to touch or be touched unless she feels very close to somebody  -  something that goes not only for other people, but sometimes for her own family as well.  if she is seeking physical contact with someone outside of sex, that is incredibly meaningful, even though it may not be obvious.

                                  jokes / laughter.   shoshana is a very serious woman, typically, with a serious job and a serious schedule and a serious demeanor.  her humor, when she has it, tends to be incredibly dry and often difficult for people to understand ;  it often makes others uncomfortable because they can’t tell if she’s joking or not, especially since she doesn’t tend to do much laughing  ...  pretty much ever.  it’s when she’s willing to cut loose a little and PROPERLY laugh, when she’s willing to be a little bit sillier, when she actually  relaxes  a bit, that you know the person eliciting that response is important to her.

                                  ???   at the end of the day, sho tends to be pretty closed off  -  and both she and I are still fairly in the dark about what, exactly, all her love languages are.  she, frankly, hasn’t allowed herself to become close enough to somebody to find out.  unlike her brother, who closed himself off due to the things that happened to him when he was young, but who is nonetheless starved of love and wants it more than anything, shoshana finds she doesn’t really  need  love to find fulfillment  -  so she hasn’t made it a priority and fears that, if she did, it would interfere with her career and the rest of her life.  when she gets to that point with somebody who’s willing to take her as she is with no reservations about her somewhat colder personality, then she might discover something long dormant that will surprise her.

ALWAYS ACCEPTING HEADCANON ASKS !!

[starblazerm31]

If you’re taking requests, how about a main six headcanon where the MC had children that they’ve left when they died and being reunited with. How would the LIs go about welcoming them/seeing them for the first time? To narrow it down let’s say 8-4yrs old Sorry if too specific

OMG the feels on this one!!  Thanks, @animationexhilaration!

Requests open, btw!  Send me some more headcanons or kiss prompts!

Main 6 Meeting MC's Previous Children

Asra

Let's face it...he's the dad.

He's been waiting for this moment for so long...he's wanted to re-introduce you to your children, but he was afraid that the memory of them would cause you to go catatonic again.

He sits you down and carefully tells you that the two of you have children.  He explains his reasons why he hadn't told you until now, and where they have been staying.

You had them before the Red Plague.  The older was 5, the younger was 4.  They lost you when they were still babies, so they have no memory of you.  And Asra has only sung your praises around them.

He asks if you would like to meet them.  Of course you would!!

After you have cleaned the entire shop top to bottom,  Asra leaves to get the children.

Few things in life have brought you to your knees.  But when wrap your arms around the two little angels in front of you...you crumble, weeping.

There is no mistaking it.  They are the perfect combination of your features and Asra's.

Asra wraps his arms around all three of you, and for the first time in four years, you share a family hug.

Things will be different now...but in the best way.  You now know that you truly belong and that you've always had the family you've longed for.

Get ready for morning magic during breakfast, happy laughter and squeals filling the shop and family trips to the magical realms.

Nadia

She is just as surprised as you to learn that you had children before you died.

It doesn't bother her in the least.  She talks with you about the possibility of meeting your children.  Would you like that?

The arrangements are made and your children are brought to the palace; Julian is on hand to help with any headaches/emergencies you may suddenly have.

Portia sees them first.  She gets them comfortable with some snacks and toys, has another servant watch them,  and then comes rushing to find you and Nadia.

You are terribly nervous when you reach the parlor.  You can hear them inside, playing and laughing.  Your fingers tremble on the doorknob.  Nadia puts a comforting hand on your shoulder and a kiss on your forehead.

You open the door and are greeted by the sight of two little twin cherubs, age 6, playing Stop/Go with the servant.

They are ushered up to you and Nadia, and you are just beside yourself.  You kneel down to them and introduce yourself.

You weren't expecting them to launch themselves at you like they did.  But you end up on your back on the floor with YOUR adorable twins covering you in hugs and kisses.

They are entranced by Nadia.  She is the most beautiful person they have ever laid eyes on.  One asks "Are you a princess?"  To which Nadia replies "Yes I am, in my home country.  Here, I am the Countess."

You spend the day with your children and not a single headache.  The more you watch them and talk to them, the more you know...they are yours.  And you will never leave them ever again.

Arrangements are made for them to have their own room in the palace.  Nadia spoils the absolute hell out of them.  Tiny adorable matching outfits?  Oh yes.  Small shiny shoes?  You bet.  They look like little porcelain dolls all day every day.  Even their play clothes are gorgeous.

But your favorite times are when they crawl into bed between you and Nadia at night.  The best most wonderful family hug as you all drift off to sleep.

Julian

You could hear a pin drop from a mile away when the two of you found out.

Julian loves kids.  And he loves you.  Of course, he will love your kids.

The two of you discuss the possibility of meeting your children, and the effect it may have on you.  Once Julian is satisfied, you begin to make plans.

Asra will bring the children to you at the shop.  Julian frets over his eyepatch, worried that it will frighten the children.

The two of you stare at the shop door with anticipation/anxiety.  When it opens, Asra steps in with the children following close behind.  You hear a whimper from Julian as the two of you look upon two adorable little gifts, ages 6 and 8.

The eight-year-old bursts into tears upon seeing you and launches themself into your arms.  They tell you in between sobs how much they missed you.  The six-year-old patiently waits for a turn to hug you.  Their sibling remembered you more and therefore was hurt the most when you died.

You spend the day with them, learning about them and gazing at them in wonder.  Eventually, the six-year-old gathers up the courage to ask Julian if they can have a piggyback ride.  Of course Julian obliges and the child is awestruck at how high up they are on his shoulders.

You take them to meet Mazelinka and Portia.  They fawn over the children, remarking on their resemblance to you.  The eight-year-old is very shy at first, but when they taste Mazelinka's soup, they simply can't stop talking.

You're surprised at how mature your young children seem to be.  But that can be expected when you lose your family so suddenly.  You like how plainspoken you can be with them and they both seem to understand.

Eventually, you ask if they would like to live with you.  Be a family again.  Naturally, they accept.

The first time the older one calls Julian "dad," you have to practically mop him up off of the floor.  And when they both later proclaim that they wanted to be doctors, his face shines like a beacon of pride for a solid week.

Muriel

He knew.  Of course, he knew.

He's really nervous about the possibility of meeting your children.  He's worried that he will scare them.  But he knows this is important to you, so he will muster up all of his courage.

When you meet them, Muriel's anxiety goes into overdrive.  They are tiny.  They are age 6 and 4.  The 6-year-old doesn't remember you very well and the 4-year-old doesn't remember you at all.

They stare up at him in wonder, not fear.  They have never ever seen someone so big.  They ask if he is a giant.  Muriel turns bright red.

The four of you spend the day walking through the forest.  Muriel is shocked when the 6-year-old points to one of Muriel's protective charms up in the trees and says that they feel his energy in it.  They ask if he can teach them how to make charms.

Muriel freezes in absolute terror when they start to climb up him.  They're very light to him, so the weight doesn't bother him; what worries him is that they might fall and get hurt.  So he carries them both.

Inanna is very protective of them from the start.  She smells your scent in them and tends to walk very close to them.  If they stray too far from the paths, she herds them back.  The children love her.  She allows them to pet and hug her.

You end the day at the hut.  Muriel cooks dinner for all of you while the children play with Inanna on the floor.  All the while, he's giving you shy glances; like he wants to ask you something.

The person who has been caring for your children comes to reclaim them.  Muriel tries to hide his tears as they wave goodbye to you and promise to see you again soon.

Once they are out of sight, you look to Muriel who is staring at his hut.

"Needs to be bigger," he says.  "So they can stay."

Portia

Being the amazing info gatherer she is, she is the one who comes across the information about your children.  She tries to break it to you easy but gets far too excited.  You're not exactly sure how to handle this info.

The two of you have a long sit-down with Mazelinka about your kids.  What should you do?  What if they hate you for being out of their life for so long?  How do you even deal with kids?

Long story short, you end up at Portia's cottage a few days later, staring awkwardly at two young children who stare just as awkwardly back.

"Yep, MC.  They're yours."

You and Portia show them around the palace gardens.  Each time you come across a guard, they salute your group.  Soon the children find themselves saluting back.  It brightens the guards' day.

Eventually, you end up at Mazelinka's place, and she sets to work fretting over the children.  She makes them a fantastic lunch and soon everyone is sitting around listening avidly to Mazelinka tell stories.

Afterward, you take them to your shop and show them around.  They are captivated by all of the charms and potions that you have made.  Portia nudges you.  You've earned cool points with your kids.

You make your way back to the palace just as dusk is setting in.  While Portia cooks dinner, you and your kids play in the grass.

As you all eat, Portia flat out asks "So do you want to stay?"

You look to your children, your eyes pleading.  You haven't been there for them, but now you are.  You want to love them like they clearly deserve.  You want them back as your family.

The children agree;  now they have not only two loving parents, but a loving uncle and honorary great-grandma who teaches them all of the really cool tricks behind their parents' backs.

Lucio

He is shaken to the core.

It's not that he doesn't like kids...he just never knew how to deal with them.  His own childhood wasn't exactly a prime example of how children and adults should interact.

Though don't let him keep you from seeing your children!  Hell, he'll make the arrangements immediately!  He'll also ask Portia for some advice on how to behave.  (Help me, Porsh, heeeeeelp meeeeeee!!!)

When the children arrive at the palace, Lucio is blindsided by how cute they are.  He sees you in their faces, and that immediately endears them to him.  They freaking tackle you.  They are 7 and 8, and both remember you.  They knew you would come for them.  They knew.  Magical kids are great, huh?

They are well behaved, but you can see a little bit of rapscallion in them.

Lucio is kinda unsure what to do.  So you encourage him to talk about what he knows best.  Himself.  Their eyes light up at his stories.  Who cares if they're blown completely out of proportion, those kids are captivated.  And Lucio loves it.

Then they see his animals.  And his weapon collection.  And his palace.  And then...just when they thought it couldn't get any better...Lucio suddenly strips off his boots and teaches them how to sock skate throughout that palace.

Turns out Lucio is a natural with your kids.  Yeah...they're not leaving.

The days seem blissfully fuller, and Lucio now has two kids who love playing pranks with him, sparring with him, listening to his stories, and playing with his dogs.

He gets some great new portraits commissioned.  Your favorite is the one where Lucio and your kids all dress exactly alike and strike the same cheesy heroic pose (and all holding wooden toy swords, but Lucio's is HUGE).  But the best one is on display in the palace entryway.  The four of you together, all looking the happiest you've ever been.

Ko-Fi  ☕

[chibi-tsukiko]

“Catching Up”

I finally finished that fic I’ve been working on!! 

HUGE shoutout to my Angel @my-archerboy who graciously volunteered to be my Beta-Reader. This was my first time writing Catarina and the anxiety was & is REAL! Thank you so much Twin!!

You can read it here on A03 or down below : 

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TAG LIST (let me know if you want to be added) : @tiberiussblackthrn

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Magnus needs a distraction. He hits the call button again and taps his fingers on the arm of the chair as he waits for the line to pick up.

*brrrring, brrrrrringggg*

He sighs, shifting to lean his entire right side against the arm of the chair.

*brrrrinnnggg, brrrin-

Suddenly, the ringing cut off.

"My dearest Catarina!" Magnus beams, immediately jumping up from the chair, "I'm so glad you finally decided to answer."

"Well, after the first two missed calls I figured I better, wouldn't want you sending out another search party like last time."

"You weren't answering my calls or texts! It had been three months! I was concerned for my friend, take pity on me!" He hears Catarina grunt in disagreement. "Oh come now Cat, I was really worried then, how was I supposed to know you were off assisting doctors in Malaysia?"

"Because I told you, Magnus. I told you several times that I was going and that I'd be gone for 6 months without a phone."

"Well, excuse me for being a forgetful and worried friend."

He can almost feel her roll her eyes as she sighs at him. "So what can I do you for?" She asks, "and I swear if you're calling to ask about gift advice again, I'll put itching powder in your glitter like you did to Ragnor's hat that one Christmas."

"Now Caterina, there's no need to be cruel" Magnus drawls trying to hide the smile in his voice "that was eons ago, and as I recall you didn't even give me the courtesy of trying to help me. "

"As I said then, I had more important matters to attend to."

"What's more important than matters of the heart?!" Magnus whines placing his hand over his heart dramatically.

"You're hopeless," she says, but Magnus can hear the smile in her voice. "If you're not calling for relationship advice, then there must be something else. So what is it? Did you get caught attempting to hex someone again?"

Magnus scoffs, "Catarina, I'm not 200, I don't 'hex' people"

She pauses for a long moment.

"I don't."

"All right, did you drink Seelie wine again?"

"Gracious no! Dreadful thing, I've more than learned my lesson after that night. Why do you assume that I require your assistance or that I've gotten myself into some sort of catastrophe?"

"Magnus, you're always into something. You're dating a Shadowhunter of all things ."

"You hurt me. Can't a man call one of his oldest and dearest friends just to say hello? It's been months since we've had time to catch up, I thought we could grab a coffee or something." Magnus chews on his bottom lip hoping he was able to play off the knot in his stomach.

There was silence on the other end. "Catarina?"

"Sure, that sounds great. Let me finish up at work"

"You hesitated, why did you hesitate?" Magnus asks worried he may have let on to his troubles.

"I did not. Now, is there someplace you want to meet or?"

"You can just portal here, we can decide then."

"Alright, I'll be about 20 minutes. See you then."

Magnus sets the phone down with a sigh and summons a book he had been translating earlier from the shelf. He stretches his legs out onto the couch and busies himself to keep his mind distracted while he waits for his friend to arrive.

— 45 minutes later —

Magnus smiles as he feels the familiar press against his wards. With a twirl of his fingers the door to his loft swings open. Without looking up from his book as he lays across the couch, he glances at the non-existent watch on his wrist.

"I'm glad I didn't make any reservations. We would have never made it." He smirks.

"Not all of us get to lounge around all day, you know, some of us work for a living."

He peeks up from behind the book to watch as Catarina saunters in from the entryway. He tosses the book over his shoulder, snapping his fingers so that it appears back in its place on the shelf. Before he can get up to greet her, Chairman Meow, who had apparently perched himself on the back of the couch while Magnus had been reading, jumps onto his lap and down to the floor prancing over to Catarina.

He weaves in between her legs rubbing his head along her shin.

She smiles, crouching down to scratch behind his ears.

"Hi there handsome" she coos

"No one ever greets me so emphatically" Magnus pouts swinging his legs off the side of the couch to stand. "I'm beginning to think everyone just loves me for my cat." He states crossing his arms.

"That and no one makes a cocktail quite like you do," Catarina says winking down at the cat.

Magnus snorts. "Perhaps I should quit being High Warlock and open a cat café. I'll call it Banes' Cats and Cocktails."

Catarina laughs shaking her head, "Terrible plan. What would your little Shadowhunters' do?"

"They are not my Shadowhunters!" Magnus protests while Catarina rolls her eyes "Are you going to spend your whole visit with my cat or the person who actually invited you over?"

"Uh oh, someone's getting jealous" Catarina whispers to Chairman Meow while continuing to pet his head.

Content with the attention he's received, The Chairman gives one last head rub against Catarina's palm before traipsing past Magnus, making sure to wrap his tail around Magnus' leg before disappearing into the bedroom.

Magnus watches Catarina as she stands back up, her glamour slowly billowing off of her, revealing her royal blue skin and snow colored hair. She scrunches up her nose, as she stands on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck giving him a tight squeeze. "Hi, Magnus," she says into his collarbone.

Magnus hugs her back, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. "It's good to see you my little blue dove." He feels Catarina give him a smack on the back of his neck in response. He chuckles, "Now then, sit, tell me everything."

"I thought you said you wanted to go for coffee?" Catarina asks, taking a step back.

Magnus grins and with a wave of his hand, he summons two large coffees onto his coffee table, Joe, the Art of Coffee logo printed on the cardboard sleeves. He gestures towards the chair across from the couch. Catarina quirks an eyebrow at him before grabbing the cup off the table. She plops down into the chair, crossing her legs along the ottoman and takes a long sip from the cup.

Magnus relaxes back onto the couch, "So, how are you, my dear?" He reaches for the cup on the table. "Last I heard you were going to a conference upstate. How was it?"

Catarina stares at him for a long moment her eyebrows disappearing into her ivory bangs.

"What?" Magnus asks.

"You actually want to hear about my boring work conference?"

Magnus tilts his head, "Have you been away so long that you've forgotten what 'catching up' means?"

Catarina shakes her head "I know what it means" she starts, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear "but Magnus, we've been friends for centuries. When you call it's usually because you need my help getting you out of something or to ask for my advice regarding some aspect of your relationship. Especially since you started dating that Lightwood fellow."

"I don't always call you to help me with Alexander."

Catarina gives him a knowing glare and begins to count on her fingers "his birthday, your first date, the fiasco in Europe, when you broke up with him, when—"

“All right" Magnus interrupts holding up his hand, "forgive me for valuing advice from my best friend.”

Catarina snorts, "I'd buy that, except you never seem to listen to any advice I give you."

Magnus takes a quick sip of coffee to hide his grin.

"Where is Romeo anyway?"

Magnus blinks. "If you mean Alexander, he's at the Institute,” He says casually while fiddling with the cardboard sleeve. "He went on a mission with blondie last night."

"And he didn't come back? That's surprising" she notes.

"He has responsibilities just as I do, he'll come back once he's finished,” Magnus reasons.

Catarina scoffs, "I'm aware Magnus, I'm just surprised is all since I'm the one you're usually texting while you're up until the early hours waiting for him to get home."

Magnus shrugs, but he feels a pang in his chest regardless. The same pang he had felt this morning when he awoke without the familiar smell of coffee in the air.

"Did something happen?" She asks.

“No,” Magnus answers quickly "Why would you assume something happened?" He looks back down at his hands as if here were checking his nail polish.

Catarina shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee. "Just asking…" she pauses "Look, I know what you said about wanting to see me…"

"I did-I do—“

"But I also know you and I saw the way you tensed up while you were talking about him."

Magnus looks back up and he's met with his friends starlight gaze. Her blue eyes scan his face, she's searching for something, for what Magnus isn't sure. He's never been one to let others read his emotions. He doesn't like being transparent, but with Catarina, he might as well be stained glass, his thoughts, and emotions reflecting onto her like a kaleidoscope.

"Magnus?"

"Hm?" Magnus hums, blinking to bring himself back out of his head. "Yes?"

Catarina takes a deep breath and sets her coffee down on the table in front of her, moving to sit almost completely on the ottoman. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Magnus responds in a laugh. It was the truth. Nothing was wrong, everything was fine.

"Magnus," Catarina leans forward, her voice taking that Motherly tone it always did when she knew Magnus was running. He wasn't getting out of this and if he didn't get it off his chest then Alec might notice when he returns and Magnus didn't want that. He didn't want to cause problems or make Alec worry.

"Nothing is wrong Catarina, I assure you. Nothing happened." He watches her sit back, crossing her legs. "I guess… I've just been…thinking….about Alexander and me."

Catarina raises an eyebrow.

Magnus huffs and settles the coffee cup in his lap. "It's just…I know that I'm a lot to handle —"

"I think he handles you just fine,” Catarina mutters.

"—and I try not to be too much.”

"Are you saying you're still holding yourself back? Magnus we've talked about this, Alec has more than—"

"I'm not. It's just…lately…." Magnus trails off trying to find the right words to describe his worry.

"Lately?... What? Has he not been treating you well?"

"No! No, he's, he's perfect.”

"Nobody's perfect Magnus"

But he is. Magnus thinks. He's everything. It had always surprised him, how quickly Alec had latched onto his heart. It seemed ridiculous at first, this Shadowhunter who had sympathized when Magnus had talked about the struggles of a Downworlder. Magnus had sworn to himself not to get involved with anyone for a while, especially not a Shadowhunter. But then Alec laughed at his joke and his smile lit up Magnus' soul like fireworks.

"Magnus?" Caterina eyes him, waiting for a response and Magnus shakes his head.

"He is good for me, too good I'm afraid, he's more than I could have ever hoped for."

"Then what's the problem?"

He leans back in the couch his hands curling around his cup until his knuckles turn white, "am I enough?" he whispers.

Catarina's eyes widen for a moment before softening. "Magnus," she says quietly, "of course you're enough."

Magnus shakes his head. "I know I'm" he raises his hand and gestures vaguely around him "you know" he sets the cup down on the table in front of him and stands "enough" he finishes using air quotes to frame the word. "Ragnor would say, I can crowd an empty room."

Catarina smirks fondly as Magnus stands and begins to pace around the sitting area.

"All my life I've been told how empirical, outlandish, and over the top I am, but it never seems to make a difference!" He says throwing his arms out in exasperation. "How can I be too much and still not enough?"

Catarina watches him as he pauses, caught in a web of memories. He shakes his head clear of them and continues.

"And before you say it, I know. I'm the one who always says stay in the moment. Live for now not then. And it's not that I'm spending all my time worrying about it. Really, and things are going great with Alexander, truly they are. He's done and does so much for me every day and I'm not just talking about the large scale things. I mean the small things, like the way he brushes the hair from my face when I'm stirring a potion, or how he always has a cup of tea ready for me when I get lost in research for hours, or how he insists on doing the dishes by hand after dinner when he knows I can just magic them clean because he says I shouldn't use my magic on frivolous things. And he's always trying not just with me, but with everyone and with everything he does and I just" he pauses again running a hand through his hair.

"I just want to be everything I can possibly be for him. I want to give him everything he's given me and so much more and I worry that one day he may realize that I can't. That what I have to give isn't enough or worse, that everything I am is too much. "

“Magnus," Catarina raises her hand, but Magnus doesn't hear her, too lost in his rant.

"And of course Alexander would never say anything if he felt unfulfilled, not unless I asked and I can't possibly do that and—"

“Magnus," Catarina calls summoning a small forcefield around Magnus, stopping him in his tracks. He blinks at the invisible wall, dumbfounded for a moment.

"Come here,” Catarina orders, looping a string of magic around Magnus' wrist leading him back over to the couch. He flops down on the cushion, pouting, like a child who’s been denied ice cream for dinner.

"I'm sorry Catarina, I didn't mean to go on like that. I really did want to see you. You're always able to make sense of everything, of well" he gestures to himself, "me."

"Is that why you've kept me around all these years?" She chuckles, "and here I thought it was for my impeccable wit."

Magnus smirks looking up to the ceiling. Catarina moves over to sit next to Magnus on the couch.

"Do you remember what you told me after your romantic getaway to Europe?" She asks, the word romantic soaked in sarcasm.

"I recall telling you a great many things about it. Regrettably, I may have told you too much, especially regarding the night we came home, but—"

"I'm not talking about that,” Catarina interrupts. Magnus squints.

She lets out a soft sigh. "Maybe this will refresh your memory, it went something like this,” she stands. "Oh, Catarina you should have seen it! One moment I'm bracing for my death and the next Alexander rushes in! Arrows flying! Like a knight!" She moves her arms striking different poses mocking Magnus' theatrics.

Magnus tries to hide his amusement by pushing his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. "It was very heroic,” he mutters as Catarina continues.

"It was like living a fairy tale! He was so brave, so dashing—“

"When have I ever used the term 'dashing'?" Magnus asks, knowing he's going unheard.

"And then we came home and he took me an—"

"Not that your reenactment isn't riveting, though inaccurate,” Magnus interjects, "I was being serious."

"So was I,” Catarina shrugs "and my impression was spot on and you know it,” she grins.

Magnus shakes his head, rubbing at his temple.

"This is really bothering you huh?”, Catarina asks

"I don't want to mess this up. He's already put up with so much because of me."

"Do you truly believe he's just 'putting up’ with you?"

"No…"

"Magnus, do you know what I remember most about your regalement of the Crimson Hand ordeal?" Catarina asks sitting back down next to him on the couch.

"How right you were when you told Ragnor and I to quit trying to out-drink eachother?"

"I remember" she emphasizes rolling her eyes "how surprised you were at Alecs' reaction to the whole deal. I remember you telling me that it didn't matter to him. That despite everything that happened he was just happy to spend time with you." She brushes a piece of Magnus's hair off his forehead.

"He adores you, Magnus, anyone with eyes can see that" she rests her elbow on the back of the couch cushion.

"I seem to recall you telling me that dating a Shadowhunter was my 'most suicidal idea yet'?" Magnus asks raising an eyebrow.

"I admit I had my reservations." Catarina shrugs, "He won points when he came with you to help with the young werewolf girl and he more than earned my favor the night of Malcolm's party. And he'll continue to earn my favor so long as he continues to make you happy. I want what's best for you Magnus, and I can say with certainty, I haven't seen you this genuinely happy since Etta."

Magnus smiled.

It felt like an eternity since he had felt a love like he had then. There had been others, of course, after Etta had left him and more after she had long left this Earth. At that time, centuries and bodies blurred together for Magnus. His heart stumbled its way through the dark, dazed in a flurry of affairs, learning to find solace in the growing hollowness. Until Alec. His Alexander, whose earnest passion breathed new life into Magnus' calcifying soul.

Alec's love and Magnus' love for Alec was something he'd never felt before with anyone, not even Etta. It was a love that made him believe in eternity. It's terrifying Magnus thought, and he would face all the horrors of Edom to keep it.

"I am happy," he says finally. "More than I ever thought possible."

Catarina gives the hand in his lap a squeeze. "It shows. And don't you think Alec is just as happy?"

"I would hope..."

"I think you'd know if he wasn't. Not to mention you'd have your Shadowhunter posse knocking down your door if that was the case."

Magnus snorts "They are not my—" but Catarina waves him off before he can object.

"Uh-huh, now I won't hear any more of this 'am I good enough, oh woe is me' nonsense. Look at everything you two have been through, look at everything you have accomplished together. He's never wavered. Not once. Love is not based on a scale or some give and take ratio. It's unconditional."

"I know," Magnus says quietly.

"Good. So then" Catarina says scooting in closer. Magnus' eyes go wide as she cups the side of face pulling him down to her eye level, their noses touching. "You listen to me and you listen well, Magnus Bane" her navy eyes as fierce as an ocean storm. "You are enough. You are always enough. Got it? And I demand an invitation to the wedding."

Magnus nodded slowly, blinking the wetness from his eyes, a retort fast on his tongue when his magic twitched. From behind them, Magnus hears the familiar click of the door.

"Magnus?" a voice calls out. "You home? I brought dinner."

Catarina sits back against the couch cushion and Magnus rubs the back of his palms over his eyes, snapping his fingers to fix the smudged coal. "In here!" Magnus calls out.

"You weren't answering my texts so I just went to the Thai place we like and— oh hello." Alec comes to a dead stop at the end of the entryway. "Am I interrupting?" He asks looking to Catarina then to the take out bag in his hand. "Do you? Uh, would you? I'm not sure if I picked anything you would like, but I'm sure Magnus could just" he makes a waving gesture with his free hand, "you know." He glances back over to Magnus who gives him a sweet smile.

"I appreciate the offer, but I really should be going.” She stretches her arms over her head, giving Magnus' thigh a quick pat before standing. "I've got patients I need to check in on in the morning."

She turns to Magnus as he stands up behind her, his arms outstretched.

"It was good to see you, Magnus," she says giving him a squeeze.

"Likewise my sweet Mazarine."

Alec watches as Catarina lifts her foot slightly to jab her knee into Magnus' leg.

She pulls back to look at Magnus, pointing a finger at him "you remember what I said,” she instructs as she begins to make her way out of the loft.

"I will. And Catarina,” Magnus calls causing her to turn over her shoulder. "Thank you."

She smiles. Giving a wave, and as she walks past Alec, she gives him a pat on the shoulder and tender smile.

Alec's eyes follow her as she leaves, the door to the loft giving a soft click behind her.

"My apologies darling, Catarina and I were chatting and I'm afraid I didn't hear my phone go off. Everything all right at the Institute?"

Alec turns back to Magnus, "huh? Yeah, everything's fine. Ran into some Scorpios. Made it back around 4 this morning...texted you right before I passed out. Slept most of the day. Sorry, I know I had said I'd be back by morning,” Alec says rubbing the back of his neck.

"As long as you return to me unharmed, I can hardly complain," Magnus says as he steps into Alecs' space leaning down slightly to kiss him. He'd meant for it to be chaste, but the moment their lips meet Magnus is overcome by the worry, relief, and weight of his and Catarina's conversation. His hands move to find the belt loops of Alecs jeans so he can pull him closer.

Alec lets out a small gasp before relaxing into the kiss. His hand grips the handle of the takeout bag, while the other comes to rest on the back of Magnus' neck.

When they part, they're both panting. "What was that for?" Alec asks, his lips red, eyes glossed over.

"No reason." Magnus lies. "A welcome back of sorts I suppose,” he shrugs.

"Maybe I should sleep at the Institute more often" Alec teases.

"Only if you promise to at least tell me that you'll be at the institute. You aren't the only one who needs their beauty sleep,” Magnus retorts.

Alec hangs his head, "I know. I'm really sorry. My phone died right after I texted you and by the time we got back, I was so tired I didn't even think to text you from Jace 's phone and-"

Magnus puts a finger to Alec's lips. "never mind that, I wasn't trying to guilt you. I meant what I said earlier. As long as you return to me unharmed, I have little to complain about." He smiles. "Now, I believe you mentioned dinner?"

There’s a look in Magnus’ eyes, Alec can see. It’s similar to the look Magnus had outside of Taki's bar the night of their first date or the night they returned home from Rome. And there’s a heaviness in the room he had felt when he first walked in.  Alec wonders if it's related to whatever he and Catarina had been talking about. He wants to ask, but instead, he holds up the bag.

"Wonderful!" Magnus claps, spinning on his heel to head towards the kitchen.

Maybe later Alec thinks as he follows Magnus into the kitchen. He watches as Magnus summons food for Chairman Meow while talking about plans on opening a café for cats.

He thinks back to the way Magnus kissed him. The way he tried to shrug it off as casual. But Alec knows him better than that.

"Magnus," Alec says coming up behind him. He barely hears Magnus respond before he's grabbing the collar of Magnus’ shirt and pulling him into a kiss. It's soft, just a brush of lips and tongue. He feels Magnus hum as he leans to press their foreheads together, "I missed you too."

Magnus smiles, "welcome home, Alexander."

[hecohansen31]

For the soulmate foursome, it's clear that they all love their little girl now, but... Michael is still very cold ! It's his nature, but when she sees him so sweet with Jimmy, so cuddly with Duncan, their girl has some doubts. She needs to feel that he trusts her, by showing his true face : a lil pup full of fears and love.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

How are you? 

I hope you’ll like this new piece for the foursome, I honestly love these babes and Michael in this dynamic is just UWU...

As always, if you don’t like this just shoot me an ask or a DM and I’ll rewrite it!

Have a nice reading!

WARNINGS: Mention of Work Harassment, Rejection, Slight Violence, Nightmares, Tiredness and Jim’s Idiotic Humor.

Michael was literally the embodiment of ‘are you the little spoon or the big spoon? I am a knife’ meme.

Which was something that Jim had said jokingly to you, as you had voiced your doubts towards Michael’s love for you.

You didn’t deny that he was attracted to you, at least physically, but whenever you would do something even remotely romantic, he would retreat in himself, almost frozen on the spot, and you couldn’t help but feel like he was more a puppet than actually Michael.

And he only had this behavior with you, because you saw the way he would purr as Duncan dove, almost distractedly, an hand in his hair when they were on the couch and he was checking emails, Michael immediately relaxing under him.

Or when Jimmy would make some dumb joke and Michael would laugh like he had just proclaimed an universal truth, gently holding his lover’s hand as he brought it to his lips, or when he would comfort Jimmy during his nightmares, although he had learned how to let you in.

Every sexual action never seemed to be spurred on by Michael, although by the end of the day his hard-on would wake you up on the mornings you fell asleep in his arms, but he never seemed to initiate anything with you, whereas he had no qualm dragging Jimmy in his bedroom or kissing Duncan when you both visited him in his office.

You didn’t know whether he was simply too stiff to warm up to you or you should have just given him his time.

That was what had suggested Duncan the diplomat, whereas Jimmy had gone for a more direct approach, suggesting you just tied the man to the bed and showed him a thing or two about ‘your beautiful body’.

You definitely didn’t know why you still bothered to ask Jimmy for advice.

But then Destiny decided to give you a hand, gently pushing you and Michael together.

Duncan would be gone for an entire week a business trip and that same week Jimmy had wanted to visit Medina since she would be soon leaving for a world tour of surf and he wanted to spend a bit of time together, even more when he knew the tension that staying with you and Michael would arise.

‘Everything is going to be alright’ he promised ‘… please just fuck out the tension, don’t throw knives, Duncan would be pissed if he had to redecorate’.

‘Thank you for thinking about my life, babe’ you had replied, as you had closed the door in his face ‘… suck your own dick, since you are supportive the kitchen, again’.

But strangely the first days without Jimmy and Duncan went pretty well, mostly because you and Michael stayed on your own with your own routines.

You would be leaving for work, come back by night, shower after Michael did (which meant that the water was never ‘boiling hot’ but you couldn’t hold Michael’s accountable for that… mostly with that glorious hair) and then you would dine together.

Michael would try awkwardly to ask how your day had gone and you would reply a bit less awkwardly.

And then you would go to sleep.

Each one in a separate room.

Then the third day the miracle happened.

You had just come back from work: it had been a tiring day, working with children wasn’t always easy.

That day you had also slept terribly and when you had come back home you still had papers to grade and projects to go through, which would make your night even longer no matter your need for bed and food, and a long warm shower…

You had come in the kitchen, barging in lightly more aggressively than you usually did, and you hadn’t certainly expected Michael to be there, eating softly some sweet and you couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding on his peace, immediately grabbing all the bags you had dropped and mumbling a soft ‘sorry’, as you moved away.

“No no, stay” he replied, something in his voice making you turn around, and as you came to face with him, he looked curious… almost worried “... is everything alright?”.

“Just an hard day at school” you muttered, releasing a soft breath “I do think that if it isn’t a problem I’d like to shower first, so that I can then dedicate my soul and body to going through the children’s works”.

“… sorry to hear that” and he seemed to mean it, before he pushed out a small chair next to him “… and I don’t mind it absolutely, but first do you want some of this tiramisu? It honestly tastes amazing”.

And you didn’t doubt it since it came from one of the most known bakeries of the city.

But what truly startled you was the fact Michael had just offered you one of his precious sweets and you looked at him confused as if he had grown another head, but refused politely, sure that it was a trick.

Michael would never share his sweets with anyone: he always preferred to get more than to share.

So why was he sharing it with you?

“I won’t kill you if you want a piece, I swear” he insisted “… I know that I can be… possessive on my sweets, but I just… I just think that you might need this more than I do”.

In fact, you low key felt like you might need a bit of sugar to get yourself to be better.

“… just a piece” you promised him, and he just looked at you in the eyes, honesty shining in his beautiful turquoise gems.

“Honestly you can take it all, I wouldn’t mind it”.

---

If that hadn’t been enough to scare you about Michael’s behavior, making you wonder what had made him change, something interesting had happened on Friday.

Usually Duncan would reserve that day as a day off from work with you, if his week had been calm enough: you would go out for a coffee, something rather calm and trivial, but you cherished those memories, because they made you feel comfortable and fall more in love with your beloved idiot.

You would do a similar thing with Jim, going to see him training every Wednesday and then spending time sharing a milkshake together, at your favorite diner.

You hadn’t any of this kind of things with Michael, but you knew, because you had spied the conversation, that Duncan had made him promise to cover his ‘shift’ with you on Friday, hence Michael had very ‘not genuinely’ asked you out for a coffee after you finished work.

And you were now waiting for the beautiful man to arrive, having arrived early and grading some of the papers you hadn’t been able to finish the previous days, and you had been a bit warmed up by the beautiful atmosphere of the secluded coffee.

It was a bit more expensive that the ones around the city, but you just loved it too much to notice the money you spent on it (and Duncan usually paid so…).

And as you were waiting an hand touched your shoulder, startling you but you quickly recovered thinking it was Michael and his feline-like grace but you were disappointed a you saw Mr. Tinsel, one of the fathers of your students.

Who had flirted with you at any teacher-parents meeting, to the point where you were so uncomfortable that you started to always avoid him.

But this time there was no running away.

“Mrs. (L/N)!” he called out to you with more energy than he should have, not releasing your shoulder from his grip as you raised your eyes to rank them slowly onto his greasy attire, something between a mix of ‘my wife left me because I wouldn’t shower’ and ‘this is fashionable trash’ “… so nice to see you!”.

“Absolutely” you hoped your wondering smile would make sure that he understood you weren’t feeling the same way “How is Priscilla?”.

That child was literally the original ‘problematic one’ and you could totally understand with a father like that, spoiled and brattish, but also definitely uncared and having a lack of affection in her life.

“… an angel truly” you doubted it but smiled again more out of convenience than anything else “… and very much in love, like me, with her teacher”.

‘Good Lord if you ever loved me, please please just throw a lighting on his way’ you muttered in your mind, with a wary smile to the man who sat in front of you, a distinct show that he wanted to stay, completely taking advantage of your alone moment.

“That’s actually for my partner…” you tried to say “… I am waiting for him”.

“Oh, but I don’t see him around” he gave you a charming smile, and you simply sent a worried one, checking the door, as you tried to go back to grading your papers giving Mr. Tinsel no attention, but soon your interest was caught by a small protesting ‘humph’ Mr. Tinsel released “… hey I got this lace before!”.

And as you raised your face, Michael was looming onto Mr. Tinsel, his eyes definitely burning an hole through the poor man who still stood his ground but didn’t have much choice as Michael got the chair out of his ass, making him fall onto it, with a fluid motion as he readjusted the chair closer to you, sitting on it and sending you a quick glance as you looked at the entire scene shocked.

“… hey sweetheart, sorry for being late”.

---

All those mixed signals were driving you crazy and the drop that filled and made your vase overflow was when Michael insisted on you sleeping together on Saturday night, after a movie marathon, insisting on needing a bit of help to sleep these days.

‘You wouldn’t mind, would you?’ he had asked you as you stared at him as if he had just revealed you, he was ‘the king of the world’.

‘No no’ you had almost chocked on your own saliva as you had pushed yourself to reply quickly.

And now you were in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling on your back, your hand on your stomach, aching because of the anxiety of such an intimate act that Michael regarded with the least attention, having simply slipped in bed in pajama pants and nothing more, as he curled onto one side, in a fetal position, pushing himself the furthest away from you.

In the end sleep overcame you wonderings and thoughts, but you were quickly brought back to reality as you felt something turning around in your bed, startling you and paralyzing you onto the mattress as you calmed your breath and analyzed the situation.

You immediately came to the quick conclusion that it was Michael turning around the bed, since you were in his bedroom and pushed in an upright position so that you could see what was going on.

And found Michael twisting his body in what looked like a painful memory, transformed in an awful nightmare and as you gently pushed yourself to softly brush an hand against his shoulder, aware that you had to wake him up, he snapped.

He quickly went into survival mood, gripping onto your hand in a way that pained you, pushing onto your wrist as he quickly pulled you under him, effectively stopping any movements and protests, and as his hand wrapped around your throat you found yoyrself fearing for your life.

You had never witnessed a nightmare of his.

You hadn’t even known he had such and almost cursed yourself for having used such a bold attempt till Michael’s eyes snapped open, taking in the situation and you muttered through your slow breaths.

‘It’s me, (Y/N), Michael’ and as his eyes slowly became bright eyes in the darkness of the room ‘… you are hurting me’.

And as burned, he immediately retreated his hand from your hands, definitely taking in the harshness of his action, before recognition of who you were overtook him and you immediately turned away from him, to regain your breath as you wondered what you had to do.

You were still scared by his aggressive answer but you could hear him being pained beside you, still as stone and cold as ice as you slowly moved to take a look at him, on his back and watching anything that wasn’t you, although your movement quickly caught his attention.

“Michael, are you…?” ‘ok’, ‘crazy, ‘safe’… you didn’t know what to say but Michael simply nodded your head more out of habit, than actually feeling ‘better’, and your heart chocked a bit, tightening in your chest, as you realized he had nightmare, he just hid them “… you had a nightmare, you aren’t ok, I can feel how shaken you are and I…”.

“It’s none of your business” the harshness of your words hurt you much more than is chokehold, but you couldn’t simply give up.

“It is” your voice had his same harshness as you propped onto your elbow turning onto your stomach as you softened your gaze “… you are my lover like Duncan and Jimmy and I always help them through nightmares”.

“But I am not like either of them!” he protested, not even looking at you in the eyes, and you gave him all the time in the world “… I am not cheery as Jimmy and romantic as Duncan”.

“Then you are you: elegant and algid Michael with a love for sweets and for luxurious things, I don’t really need anything else, truly, I mean… I have cheery Jim and romantic Duncan and a very very sweet Michael, I just need you the way you are”.

This seemed to breech something in Michael as he sent you a quick look to you as if to make sure that you weren’t lying.

“… I almost hurt you”.

“Also Jimmy and Duncan did, the first times they had a nightmare, it’s not you, it’s the nightmares” you explained softly, daring to let an hand out to him to settle it between you “… once I know how to deal with yours nightmares, I won’t be hurt anymore”.

Although Michael still needed more convincing, he grabbed softly your hand.

“… we are in this together” you promised him, gripping a bit tighter his hand to let him know that you were right there with him.

“I like being held when I have nightmares, not too tightly” he explained, not daring to look at you, already halfway nestling through your arms.

“… then I do think that I can do that for you”.

[realllllfangirllllll]

More Than Friends ||

Chp. 40 {FINAL}

Masterlist

CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader

College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader

Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.

{ Previous / Epilogue }

Song Recommendation for this Chp:

You clutched onto your phone as you turned away from the Effiel Tower. Your body froze, not knowing what to do as you stared at the man who just screamed your name. 

There he was. The beautiful man you thought about everyday was now running towards you, desperately trying to reach you and pushing through the crowd of tourists. He avoided the nosy glances from strangers and only had his eyes on you. He had enough empty nights without you by his side and could not prolong this meeting any longer. You, on the other hand, were taken aback by his sudden appearance.

Your limbs became ignorant of your heart, and you started running away from him. You didn’t understand why, but seeing him here in Paris made you scared. You suddenly realized that you weren’t prepared to have him in your life again. No, you weren’t ready to be in his life again. It was clear that your presence in his life made it difficult for not only him, but you as well, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that again.

You continued running down a couple of streets, trying to get rid of the man chasing you like you just committed a crime. No matter how fast you ran or how many times you swiveled through a crowded group, he would still be right behind you. Your phone rang and you looked at the caller ID. 

It read My Love.

When you saw Jaehyun’s contact name pop up, it was as if your mind was finally getting a grip onto itself. Taeyong’s advice suddenly came into mind, “Don’t give up on love because if you do, no one is going to chase it for you.” Your limbs finally listened to your heart’s desire and you stopped running, standing in front of what you assumed was an old shop. Waiting for a few seconds, you see Jaehyun turn a corner and stopped when he saw you standing there. He lowered his phone from his face and caught up with you.

He was now standing right in front of you, breathlessly saying, “Jesus y/n, how do you run like that...”

You stared at his tired figure guiltily and apologized, “Sorry... I shouldn’t have done that, I was just surprised to see you.” You were suddenly nervous and timid as you spoke to him. You looked down at the ground and started mumbling quickly, “I mean I did do track and field for a long time so I guess that paid off even though I didn’t know I still had that in me it was more of a kick of instinct you know I really didn’t know why I did that sorr-”

Two strong hands made its way on your shoulders, and you immediately stopped mumbling out of nervousness. You looked up at him as he lifted your chin up with his hand. He let out a sigh and stared at you apologetically, “Why are you so scared? Do I make you feel like that?”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting him to feel like he did something wrong. Softly you told him, “It’s not like that... I just feel like I should apologize for putting you through all these terrible things... I was about to call you and then you suddenly appeared out of nowhere and scared the heck outta me. So that’s why I’m kind of shaking from nervousness,” you let out a soft chuckle.

Suddenly, he stepped closer to you, closing the space between the two of you. Your heart was beating quickly and you held your breath, nervous from being this close to him after weeks of being deprived of his presence. His fresh scent of copra and lime invaded your nostrils. He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Close your eyes.” You did as you were told and anxiously waited for what he was going to do.

To your anticipation, nothing happened, but suddenly, you felt him put something in your hands. You opened your eyes and found yourself holding a hand cream. Confusion was written all over your face as you looked at Jaehyun. “Lotion?”

He gave you his classic dimple smile and replied, “Lotion.”

You were about to become furious, but he put his hands in yours and explained, “I’m sorry y/n. I’m sorry for putting you through all this mess. It was never your fault. You didn’t deserve any of this. Hell, you don’t even deserve me. You deserve someone so much better. I am too flawed... I dragged you into this lifestyle knowing you didn’t want the spotlight. I made you hide our love for the sake of my reputation. I was too caught up with loving you that I never realized how much I trapped you. It was nobody’s fault but me and my selfish tendencies. I was too greedy to ask for both success and love so now I’m face to face with its consequences. However, I choose you. I choose love. I can’t live without you because nothing in the world means more to me than you, y/n. So I hope you accept my apology. I mean, my lotion.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he waited for your response.

You smiled at him as he was the person who made you feel like everything else in the world didn’t matter too. You chuckled at the thought of him giving you a lotion. You had a quick flashback to the day you challenged him to a “tickle war” and told him how you would rather him say “lotion” than “sorry.” Intertwining your fingers together, you replied, “I’m lotion too.”

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug, softly whispering next to your ears, “I’ll never let you go through things like that ever again. You’re mine and I’ll protect you forever.” He then pulled back, giving you a long-awaited kiss. It felt like everything around the two of you disappeared as your lips connected. You took in the presence of his warmth and smiled against the kiss. Gently pulling back, you told him, “I want you to meet someone.”

You pulled him to Taeyong’s cafe shop near the area and went to the counter to find him, excited to show him Jaehyun in person, as a way to thank him. However, the lady at the cashier told you he returned to his hometown for business and left a note for me.

Dear y/n, 

I won’t be coming back to Paris anytime soon, but I know you must be happy now. You are a strong woman who knows what’s best for yourself. I believe you are now with the man you love so don’t think about anything or anyone else. The world shouldn’t judge you for the beautiful love you share. Cherish it and ignore everything else because nothing even matters as long as you’re with the person you love. I hope we meet again someday. 

Your therapeutic barista, Taeyongie~

Smiling, you placed the note in your bag. He must be your guardian angel sent from heaven, you thought.

Regardless, the two of you stayed at the cafe and sat at the same window-side table. You felt happy as you peered over the passing tourists with the man you love. The waitress came to place your order on the table and you smiled, remembering when Taeyong treated you to this delicious cake.

“What’s wrong?,” Jaehyun asked you as you snap back to reality. You smiled brightly and told him the whole story as he listened attentively, gazing adoringly at the way you explained it to him.

Suddenly, your phone rang and you became nervous again. When Jaehyun saw your face, he questioned with concern, “Is there anything wrong? Who is it?”

You gave him a forced, reassuring smile and answered the call. “Hey...” you halfheartedly greeted your brother.

The other side of the call answered, “Are you ok? Did he find you?”

“Wait what? You know?” 

You continued talking on the phone giving Jaehyun weird glances once in a while.

Before you ended the call, Xiaojun told you, “You know I always want what’s best for you right? You can go back to Korea if you want to. I’m always just a phone call away.”

“I know, thanks Dejun.” You ended the call and looked at Jaehyun with suspicion, “You met with my brother?”

He let out a deep chuckle and replied, “He’s a great person. I really respect him.”

Even more surprised, you asked him, “Are we still talking about Xiaojun here or did I miss something?”

Laughing at your reaction, he told you, “Nope, we’re talking about the one and only, Xiao Dejun.”

“Are you sure? I think you must have met his doppelgänger. We are talking about the same person who makes my boyfriends suffer and hunts down my exes.”

Jaehyun stopped laughing and leaned closer towards you with a skeptical look on his face, “Boyfriends? Exes? Is there a problem I need to take care of right now? Because I will team up with Xiaojun and hunt those people down.”

You rolled your eyes, “Now I see why the two of you got along. You possessive beasts.”

He laughed as you joined him a few seconds later. The rest of the afternoon was spent in the warm coffee-scented cafe, bickering relentlessly for fun and showing skinship every so often.

When evening came around, the two of you decided to head back to the Effiel Tower to watch the night sky. Walking hand in hand, you no longer felt empty. You were with the person who made you whole, gazing up at the beautiful night view. Jaehyun would steal a few glances at you every once in a while, gazing lovingly at you. Sitting down at a nearby bench, you laid down on his lap and examined the beautiful human being who’s heart only beats for you. You giggled and started playing with his hand, feeling like a kid at a candy shop. 

“Are you ok little baby? Do I need to check you into a mental hospital?”

You glared at him as he gave you an amused look. “I told you I. Am. Not. Little. Also, can I not admire my lovely boyfriend under this beautiful night sky?”

Smiling at you, he stared at you for a few seconds before suddenly kissing your forehead, “I wish you were little, so I could keep you in my pocket. No one would be able to hurt you and I can be by your side forever.”

Scrunching up your nose, you replied, “You’re weird.” 

“You just ruined the moment y/n...” he responded and began pouting.

Laughing, you sat up and kissed his pouting lips. Slightly pulling away, you whispered, “I’ll always be by your side, forever.”

Jaehyun’s cheeks flushed and you started laughing, “Awhh is my Jaehyunie shy?”

Rolling his eyes, you pinched his cheeks and continuously teased him. Just then, your phone rang with an incoming facetime call from Soyeon.

You press accept and the first thing you saw was her overly excited face as she screamed, “Hi! HI! CONGRATULATIONS ON ‘OPERATION LOVE’S’ SUCCESS!”

“Wait what?” you stared at your phone screen in confusion.

“Oh whoops sorry that was meant for Jaehyun,” She tried to cover her laughter by putting her mouth over her hand.

You felt Jaehyun’s head on your shoulders as he appeared in the frame of the video call. He smiled and told Soyeon, “Thank you.”

“OH MY GOD!! SO IT WAS A SUCCESS!! MARK LUCAS JOHNNY COME OVER! LOOK!!!” Both of you laughed as Soyeon dramatically called for your friends. 

“I need to know the whole story so spill!” Soyeon bombarded the two you with questions while she waited for the guys to come over. 

Jaehyun was about to say something when all three guys walked into the screen with a heavy expression on their faces. You greeted them warmly but no one seemed to be happy to see the two of you.

“Are the three of you blind or what?” Jaehyun questioned them with a skeptical tone.

A few seconds passed before Mark spoke with a sigh, “What the heck man... We’re all disappointed in you.”

Confused, Jaehyun asked, “What? For being with y/n again? I thought we were planning this together. Did you guys have memory loss or what?”

“Are you not happy for us?” You spoke out of insecurity and worry that your friends don’t approve of the relationship.

Lucas assured you quickly, “No, that’s not it y/n, we’re happy for you guys. We really are. But there are bigger problems at hand right now.”

You and Soyeon looked at them with concern as Jaehyun let out a sigh of frustration and cursed under his breath, “It’s because of me huh...”

I turned to him, surprised, “What do you mean? What happened? Someone tell me what the hell is going on right now!”

Johnny leaned forward to the cam and said, “He-”

“Don’t tell her,” Jaehyun stopped him and reached for your phone. “I’ll tell her myself. See you guys soon, bye.”

He abruptly ended the call and I glared at him, “Tell me what...”

Before speaking, he grabbed your shoulders and made you face him, “Look. Before I tell you anything, promise me that you won’t get mad ok?”

Looking at him with a straight face, you said, “Speak.”

“I quit.”

“Huh?”

“I quit.”

“You what now?”

“I resigned from my position as CEO of SM Management before coming to Paris.”

You shook his arms off you and scolded him, “Are you insane?! Even after all this mess, you decide to just give everything up? You worked so hard for it, and you throw it all away just like that?”

He held your hand and pulled you a little closer to him in an attempt to calm you down. He told you softly, “Listen baby, I’m not going to put work over you ever again. I know what I’m doing.”

You crossed your arms and scoffed, “Don’t ‘baby’ me. I’m not going to just sit still knowing I made you quit your career. Let’s go, we’re going back to Korea right now.”

To your surprise, he laughed and pulled you down onto his lap. Anger started boiling in your body and you whisper-shouted in an attempt to avoid causing a scene in public, “Jung Yoonoh! Let go of me right now.”

You tried to squirm out of his hold, but he held you in his arms tightly, refusing to let go. He spoke softly to you, his breath tickling your ear, “I’m not going to let go until you calm down and listen to me, ok?”

Letting out a huff of defeat, you relaxed your body in his lap and said, “Fine. Now speak.”

He continued softly, “It’s true that I resigned from something I worked really hard for, but I know what I’ve done and I don’t regret it at all.”

“But-”

He cupped your cheek to turn you towards him, “No buts. Listen. I know you were going to act like this when you find out because you’re afraid I might’ve lost my most precious possession, but that’s not true. I have you and that’s all that matters. You mean the most to me baby, ok?”

“But Jaeh-”

He raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to finish your statement. When you sealed your lips again, he continued, “I know you’re also worried that I might have lost my future because I’m too lovestruck right now, but that is also not true. I quit because I know there’s a better opportunity waiting for me. I’m going to start a new company, one I will build myself without relying on sponsors or other toxic elites. I will climb back on my throne solely by my own sweat and blood with the support of my love and friends. So you don’t have to worry at all, ok baby?”

You were hesitant in answering him. Suddenly, he cupped both sides of your face and leaned closer, asking, “Ms. y/l/n, will you accompany me in this journey by being CEO?”

Your eyes widen, “Yoonoh, I’m only a college student...”

Laughing, he responded, “And?”

Shaking your head out of disbelief, you thought to yourself how you met such a crazy man. All because of a drunken one night stand, you now find yourself in the bench of Paris, sitting on the most ambitious and psychotic man whom you call your boyfriend. You thought to yourself that sometimes, life hits you with the hardest challenges, but it also makes sure to reward those who work even harder. And so, you find yourself on this thrilling adventure with Jung Jaehyun— a currently jobless man who still seems to have the determination of a soldier and the heart of a lion.

At this point, what haven’t you been through? You experienced a complicated “friends with benefits” relationship, being poisoned by a jealous rich girl, and having the media of South Korea relentlessly hunt you down. 

And so, you decided to accept Jaehyun’s invitation with a soft, “I’ll do anything, as long as it’s with you.” After all, you promised him you would stay by his side forever, and vice versa, because you both know that this wasn’t just a “friend with benefits” relationship. You and Jaehyun were more than friends. 

You and Jaehyun were true lovers.

———

• You have reached the end of More Than Friends •