#lol she really had to make me listen to this song
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rosegoldenatlas · 1 day ago
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A Smallishbeans Centric Epic! Au
Okay so first off I am going to set it up like so:
Epic!Character - Hermit/Lifer/Empyrian - my reasoning and design choices
Also this comes with new watcher lore at the end
please give ideas for Calypso and Apollo <333
Odysseus - Joel - He can be surspisingly clever at times, but I chose him for Ody more because 1 he’s straight and obsessed with his wife 2 he is a bloodthirsty bastard when he is red raging and 3 because he isn’t good with teammates
Zeus - Ren - It’s simple really, 1 he’s a theatre kid, 2 the red king
Penelope - Lizzie - well fist off, she’s Joel’s irl wife, but also because she is girlboss and a clever bitch
Telemachus - Hermes - he is Joel’s canonical kid and yeah
Eurylochus - Grian - very serious when he needs to be, is logical during the life series, and so would open the windbag for the lols
Polites - Jimmy - Canary curse, is baby, he can’t fight good and supports Joel and also would ensue shenanigans as soon as they are alone
Winions - Tanukis - a reference to @Mellozheist ‘s Hermitcraft tanuki!Joel design
Athena - Gem - She is an excellent fighter and is very logical when picking fights, she isn’t afraid to finish the job and the dynamic she and Joel had in Wild life felt similar to Ody and Athena’s (imagine Gem scolding Joel for going all bloodlust again after telling him not to red rage all season)
Polyphemus - Xornoth - big and only one eye but same design otherwise. Xornoth is terrifying in Esmp s1 lore. Imagine a giant one-eyed demon using corruption magic and a club to kill you, it’s also fun to point out that Joel didn’t acknowledge Xornoth at all in Esmp s1 and this is referenced in ‘tell me what’s your name?’ ‘My name is nobody’ Also this choice will make a lot of sense when you take into account who I picked for Poseidon
Aeolus - Scar - Now hear me out here, Scar is a prankster. This is a good prank. Aeolus’ whole thing is ‘do my lil task and u win!’ ‘What’s the catch’ ‘hahaha wouldn’t you like to know’ like Scar does that shit all the time. He rides on a cloud because he can’t walk and the cloud changes shape to accommodate him (After the time skip he just suddenly doesn’t have a shirt btw)
Poseidon - Scott - he’s dramatic, he’s queer, he’s petty, he’s been in a rivalry on life series with Joel since Last life, and in a world where both Scott and Xornoth (being brothers in lore) are evil, Scott, being loyal to his associates, would show up to defend him
Circe - Sausage - he ran a sanctuary for magical creatures and these people were attacked so he protected them. Also he owns a strip club so he would seduce people  to lure them in before brutally murdering them like a gentleman
Hermes - Oli - based on vibes tbh, but also on that one time when Joel played MCC Ender Cup at Oli’s and when they were losing Oli would hype him up by making up a song on the spot (M C C DO YOU KNOW THE WORDS!?)
Odysseus’ mom - Donkey Jeremy - for the memes, also Joel going to the underworld and finding that his donkey god is dead is brutal when you realize how long he has kept this bit up
Tireseas - Martyn - the lore man himself showing up only to lore drop on the main character and not help at all is such a Martyn move, the voices in the background are listeners dropping even more lore and all of them are giving pretty straight answers compared to Martyn only speaking in double meanings
Siren!Penelope - The Virgin Jeremy - if you don’t know who that is, when Jeremyism was created, Lizzie was brought into the cult religion as ‘the virgin Jeremy’ it looks close enough to Lizzie to be passable from afar but the outfit is all wrong
Odysseus’ ‘daughter’ - that kid Joel had with Jimmy during the Empires x HC crossover - technically his kid, but he gave it away as a Christmas gift so does it really count?
Scylla - Pearl - Scylla is a beast with 6 wolves heads for feet, 5am Pearl from Double Life is remarkably similar to Wolf Joel from 3rd life and Wizard Joel from Last Life, ‘we know that we are the same’ also she is just fucking crazy and deranged and we love her
Antinous - The Secret Keeper - Used as the leader of Watchers in this scenario. Watchers are known to be evil (or at the very least,very morally ambiguous) in lore
Calypso - Iskall fits so well but I don’t like himmmmmm give me better ideas please
Apollo - i dunno tbh, literally no ideas here. I would like ideas thanks.
Hephaestus - Doc - our machine boy, loyal to the bone so ofc he would have a problem with Joel being a traitor but not enough to fight his point because he has things to do
Aphrodite - Skizz - he’s sweet, and loyal, Aphrodite is the goddess of love, but in the musical she focuses on familial love, which Skizz does very well. He’s not on Joel’s side at all because Joel kills Skizz a lot 
Ares - False - a good fighter, would love to watch the bloodshed unfold also a fight scene with a Gem and False would look so sick
Hera - Cleo - the 80’s outfit matches Hera’s music, respects a man who doesn’t cheat on his wife, (LOOKING AT YOU ETHO)
Eurymachus - Watcher (partial sight*) - Eurymachus is the one that tries to open arms Odysseus, the partial sight bit will be explained after character list.
Melanthius - Watcher (unseeing**) - Melanthius is the man singing when Telemachus arrives and he is the one making orders and says he will ‘break the kids hands’, unseeeing will be explained after character list.
Watcher lore: 
The Secret Keeper is being used as the leader of the watchers, not needing wings to hide the eyes and instead wears a heavy mask with the watcher logo on it.
Watchers usually have two pairs of wings, a small pair where the ears would be cover the watchers eyes, the other pair on their back.
When a Watcher is starting to break away from the normal mentality the face wings begin to pull away from their eyes, Grian his his wings fully unfolded.
*partial sight means the inner half of the eyes are not hidden, meaning the watcher can now see the light/make better decisions
**unseeing means the wings are more tighly folded over the eyes that one is fully under the other like a blindfold, normally watchers can at least see the very smallest difference between being in a dark room and a light one, Unseeing Watchers can not.
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eggplantgifs · 6 months ago
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Mao Asada: Chandelier » 2024 Friends on Ice
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astertheworld · 6 months ago
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whys everyone so mad at me for saying its reasonable to consider katseye kpop likeeee. sorry man they are literally a kpop group 💀
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weezerlvr228 · 6 months ago
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flippin boobahs!
#weezer#rivers cuomo#brian bell#patrick wilson#scott shriner#OKAH HI CHAT#i’ve been thinking#this tag will be just a rant not really weezer related#yk laufey ?#i was listening to her song ‘letter to my 13 year old self’ and just started overthinking about myself when i was younger#i just think about my younger self and get so sad thinking about her; i wish i could’ve done more for her#i was a huge introvert and talking to anybody made me super super anxious; so much so that my teacher noticed and had me join a ‘social#emotional learning’ group where we spoke about low self esteem and how to raise it and everything like that#i only left it in 8th grade because i didn’t wanna keep missing class for it; but it made me so sad to think i thought so low of myself#i would wear hoodies all the time and jeans because i used to hate my body a lot#which is awful to do in socal heat!#i think it started because in my family i was always stereotyped as the fat one; yk how mexican families are? they called me gordita for#the longest time; which made me incredibly insecure and only in 10th grade did i start showing my arms 😭 IK ITS DUMB BUT ITS SO WEIRD#i still can’t do it entirely; i’ll wear shrugs and things like that because i still am insecure about my arms sometimes but ive been better#i only really had one friend but she had a different lunch; so i was alone for most of the time on the swings by myself or sitting at the#lunch tables alone waiting for lunch to end and this noon duty came to me a lot and would talk to me since she felt bad i was always alone#while everybody else played with each other ; and i don’t know why i just broke down thinking about how lonely i was at the time#i’d go to the school’s friendship room everyday after that because it was just a teacher who let kids come inside her room to play games if#they didn’t wanna be in the heat and soon i became friends w the teacher and she’d play uno with me everyday; mainly because the room was#relatively empty until they got loom bands! and i was an expert on loom bracelets so i would help others make them and that was a confidenc#e boost; i remember being proud of myself for socializing like that LOL#i just get sad thinking about that time; i like to think that if little Lyss saw me; she would be so proud because i have friends;#a boyfriend ; good grades ; and i’m well liked and regarded. i hope she’s proud of my progress socially because it was such a leap#i wish i could go back in time and tell her how much better things get and how she won’t be lonely forever#
and to not online date. definetly don’t do that one.
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browniesnivy · 7 months ago
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I wouldn't normally post about something like this, but I made a Disco Elysium playlist and I'm really proud of how it turned out! Hope y'all will enjoy it too ^^
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girlivealwaysbean · 8 months ago
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some lyrics from casual by chappell roan that make me curl up in a ball and cry
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mortellanarts · 2 years ago
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One layer challenge except it wasn't a challenge I was just losing it
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devilsskettle · 2 years ago
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whenever i hear a song that i would like if it weren’t for the fact that it was too long, i think about this:
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like you can afford to write tangentially if you/your music is already popular and you know that people are going to listen to you no matter what and in fact laud your longer pieces as being genius etc but can you really be releasing 5+ minute long songs without a built-in audience?
#idk. thinking about this because of the new lana album and i think i’d like a lot of these songs better if they were shorter lol#some of these songs drag so much especially when she includes these long sections of like one repeated line over and over again#or like when taylor swift releases the extended version of all too well and everyone freaked out#that’s all good and well but she HAD to release the shorter version first#and she knows she has this huge fanbase that will eat that shit up no matter what she does really#part of it is nostalgia admittedly but i also think the shorter version is just a better song#that song is on the longer side to begin with but 10 minutes???? why#(i did listen to both songs back to back to make sure my opinion was still the same as when the 10 minute version was released & it is lol)#idk! obviously i’m bad at this myself because i write so fucking much to express a simple point but it is more skillful to be able#to say things as effectively and precisely in a more concise way#not saying this ONLY applies to mitski because she’s the one this article is about but she is a good example of it#like being able to express a feeling in just a couple lines that would probably take a less skilled writer like a novel to express#it also reminds me of how my high school latin teacher described how in college he took a class about museum design or something like that#and their first assignment was to write a description of an artifact to tell museum visitors what it was#and every time he submitted a draft the professor would tell him to make it shorter while still communicating the necessary information#until he literally could not make it any shorter than it already was#because you have to assume that people are not gonna read all that! because they won’t unless they have some kind of external motivation to#idk there IS something to be said for including ‘unnecessary’ parts of writing etc obviously there’s nuance#but a lot of the time i think if there isn’t a reason to include something then why include it!
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catboyrightsdefender · 1 year ago
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mitski really was doing something evil when she was opening her 2022 tour concerts with love me more
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harrylights · 4 months ago
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#grief rant in the tags time#losing your life partner at 25 is just. jesus christ#i’ve been most worried for kate with everything and i hope she has a good support system around her#also teardrops hits so different now. the way it ends so abruptly is so poignant#and midnight????#that’s the song that i had playing on loop when i met my ex and used to listen to it to cheer me up#it’s been a bit different since we broke up but it still made me smile and remember that life can feel good again#it’s just too bittersweet to feel anything even close to how it used to#his voice is so beautiful :( so strong :(((#he was so fucking talented dude and obviously this is just an assumption#but i really do feel like he WANTED to be better#again the thing of like. no amount of money can truly buy you out of your struggles#sure it gives you more of a fighting chance to access different forms of help that are out of reach for low income people#but it’s such another stark reminder that i’d learned myself that like. the kind of help that most addicts/bd2 people need#pretty much just doesn’t exist#makes recovery for myself feel scarier#i’d been feeling that since i got out of rehab in 2022 and this just reignites that all over again#i’m sorry the world did this to you liam. and i’m sorry you couldn’t get the help you needed#you’re so loved#i don’t love everything you did but that doesn’t mean you’re not still loved#ANYWAY GOD DAMN IT#hopefully therapy helps today lol#rowyn rambles
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agreeeeeeeeeee · 1 month ago
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hiii <33
first i want to say that i absolutely ADORE your page on here, your writing is just wow, perfection!! i really liked your sirius story (even tho i strayed off a bit and started liking rabastan too ahahahah-) it's amazing omg
and i was wondering would you be up for writing for barty? anything with him honestly lol, but if you don't have any ideas feel free to ignore this!
SAY LESSSSSSS (I've been dying for someone to request Barty or rosekiller pls send all the requests). Also! so glad you enjoyed that fic! (I played myself and kinda fell for Rab too 😬)
I Wanna Be Yours | BCJ
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feat. Barty Crouch Jr. x blackcat!reader
SUMMARY: Barty is determined to win your affection, but due to his larger-than-life personality and your aloof nature, you find it difficult to trust his intentions.
CW: MDNI 18+, smut, pov switches once, a little angst and a little fluff, blackcat!reader, artist!Barty, only soft for each other, mentions of drinking and drug use, strong language, sort of insecure!reader, Barty is a giant simp
AN: i'm having my scene music renaissance, and something about that era is so Barty-coded. I have a few other songs that suit him in my mind, but I'd love to hear any ideas you guys might have!
masterlist
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“Honestly, I don't know what Slughorn’s problem is. If I want to make a love potion that makes Xeno hard for four days, I can—”
“Four days and I would die of deprivation,” Xenophilius chuckled, his arm draped over Pandora's shoulders.
“Sure, but what a way to go.”
You walked beside them, half-listening to their sugar-dipped conversation, equal parts disgusted and deeply jealous. You'd never admit it, but you so badly wanted what your best friend had. Devotion, affection, complete and total acceptance. But you walked through life like a spring-loaded trap, biting the fingers off anyone that dared come close.
“Should we grab dinner before heading to the library? I'm starved,” Pandora said, turning her attention to you.
“Sure, it's probably quiet this early anyways—”
“Going to dinner, are we?” Evan bound up between Xeno and Pandora, throwing his arms over their shoulders. “I'm fucking ravenous.”
Two arms looped around your waist, hauling you back into a solid chest. The familiar scent of clove cigarettes and paint enveloped you, as if you needed any clues to know exactly who had the audacity to handle you so boldy.
“As am I,” Barty purred against the shell of your ear.
You wriggled in his hold, slapping at his forearms until he released you. “Not in the mood, Junior,” you warned, ignoring the way your stomach flipped when you met his dark eyes, eyeliner smudged along his lashes.
“Aw, don't be cross, gorgeous. You looked like you needed a hug,” he teased, falling into step between you and Pandora, slowing his natural gait considerably. He snatched your books from your arms, ignoring your protest and cradling them against his chest. He was dressed in a white dress shirt and a Slytherin vest, his tie loose and sleeves pushed up, hand-poked tattoos sprawling and dark against his forearms.
“I'm fairly certain she needs a hug as much as she needs your dumbass in her space,” Pandora said, rolling her eyes. “Which is not at all.”
“Oh, she needs me.” Barty grinned. “She just doesn't know it yet.”
“Give it a rest, Crouch,” Xeno cut in. “Keep pushing her and you'll end up on the bottom of the Black Lake.”
“Oh, how exciting! How will you do it, treasure? Stabbing? Maiming? Choking? Oh Merlin’s fuck, please say choking—”
“Maiming sounds about right,” you bit, attempting to get your books back, but he was far too tall, holding them way above your head. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of jumping for it, and crossed your arms over your chest with a huff.
“You can maim me whenever you like,” he said, a cheeky smirk on his stupid, handsome face. “Will you do it now if I ask nicely?”
You ignored him, looking forward again.
Barty Crouch Jr. loved nothing more than fucking with you, finding the gaps in your armor and trying to pry them open. But no matter how attractive you found him, because saints was he attractive, or how endearing he could be in the in-between moments, you refused to play his game.
You would not be made a fool of, not like every other person he set his sights on and got bored with a week later.
“So are we eating or what?” Evan asked, walking backwards at the front of the group. Any student unfortunate enough to be in his path quickly scurried out of it, cowed by the Slytherin's reputation for retaliation.
You watched them shrink away from Barty too, who clearly got some sick sense of pleasure from it. He even bared his teeth at a Gryffindor that veered to close to you, flipping your bodies around so he was on the outside and you were next to Pandora again.
“I'm actually going to head back to the dorm,” you said, slowing so you fell out of line with them. “See you later?” You said to Pandora, who gave you a tight frown.
“Are you sure?” She asked, tilting her head like an avian.
“Yeah, you guys enjoy,” you said, pretending you didn't see the disappointment flash across Barty’s face as you turned on your heel, letting the opposite flow of students sweep you up and away from your friends.
The truth was, Barty scared the shit out of you. He was everything you weren't: outgoing, bold, rebellious, and just charming enough to get himself out of whatever mess he and Evan made. And for whatever reason, he was obsessed with pushing your buttons. And he did, with infuriating efficiency.
Pandora insisted it was all in good fun, that he was harmless, but you knew better. You saw the way he manipulated others to get what he wanted, the way he masked his calculation with charisma.
Barty Crouch Jr. was far from harmless, and even if he had his friends fooled, he would not fool you.
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Barty's POV
Barty watched your head bob away through the crowded corridor, your books still heavy in his arms and guilt gnawing a hole in his chest.
Why couldn't he just fucking control himself? He felt like a noxious ball of energy, filling whatever available space he could, unable to contain his own impulses, a slave to his own existence.
He just wanted you so badly. You occupied every part of his mind, owned every thump of his wretched, ruined heart. He was irrevocably, intrinsically yours, but you couldn't stand him, and it was largely his own damn fault.
Because he was broken. Couldn't hold a normal conversation. Couldn't flirt in a way that wasn't deeply vulnerable, or obscene and intense. For Merlin’s sake, he'd begged you to choke him just now.
You were a fix he couldn't get, so he was suffering withdrawals from a drug he never had. He was going mad with it, the desperation for your attention. He would do anything to hear you say his name, to occupy an ounce of space in that beautiful brain, even if meant looking like an idiot. Like a psycho.
It was worth it just to have you look.
After dinner, the four of them returned to the Slytherin common room, Barty still carrying your books with a wrapped bundle on top. Every step towards your shared dorm with Pandora made his heart beat faster, a nervous sweat collecting along his spine.
Nothing made him nervous like you did.
Barty walked into the room last, his eyes immediately drifting towards your bed even though he tried to resist. You were curled up against a pile of pillows, surrounded by parchment and open books, your quill scribbling furiously across the page in your lap.
You glanced up when they entered, meeting his eyes for a split second, low-lidded and disinterested, per usual, and turned your attention back to your work.
The dismissal itched like a bug under his skin, his blood going hot and tingly. He needed you to look at him again.
He set your books on your desk and kicked off his shoes, flopping onto your bed before he really thought about it. It was softer than his, covered with quilts and pillows, and he noticed a little stuffed cat tucked away under your covers. He could smell you all around him, so sweet and warm, and whatever rationality he had left dissolved into goo.
“Who invited you?” You snapped, shoving at his shoulder with little success. A swell of affection at your pitiful attempt made his heart beat quicken, you were just so fucking cute.
He set the paper bundle on your chest. “Thought you might be hungry, sweetness,” he said, hugging one of your pillows to his chest.
Merlin, you were so beautiful when you glared at him like that. He filed the image away for later, mentally sifting through his paint collection for the perfect shade to match your pout.
You looked a bit perplexed at the package, almost angry, and his anxiety returned, fighting through the haze caused by your proximity. “You brought me food?”
He nodded, biting back ‘and dessert too’. He wanted you to actually eat the food, not throw it at his head.
Hesitantly, you unfolded the bundle, as if he'd given you something rotten, or was pulling a prank. It made his lungs squeeze with guilt. He was shitty to a lot of people, most people. But not to you, never you.
Your brow softened with relief when you realized it was just a sandwich, before quickly furrowing again. He wanted to smooth it with his lips, kiss you until it never creased with worry again.
“I'm not hungry,” you said, setting the bag on the side table. A twinge of hurt stabbed between his ribs, but didn't let his smile falter. He knew that's what you would say. And he also knew you would eat it later, when no one was around to see you accept a small gesture of kindness.
That was good enough for him.
You slid out of your bed, leaving his side cold, and he stretched out against your sheets, wallowing in your residual warmth like a niffler in a pile of gold.
The others chatted around you, Xeno lighting up a joint by the cracked window, but you sat down at your desk, turning back to your work and tuning them out.
Barty sighed, letting his eyes flutter closed so he could pretend he was wrapped in you body instead of your sheets, his nose buried into your hair instead of your pillow.
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Reader's POV
You and Pandora walked arm in arm into the library, chatting about the idiots in your Transfiguration class. You were headed to your usual spot at the back of library, a collection of over stuffed chairs by a stained glass window overlooking the Forbidden Forest, and stopped short when you saw Regulus, Evan, and Barty already there.
Barty was reclined in the window, his long legs propped up against the other side, a sketchbook in his lap, quill between his teeth.
“Excuse the hell out of me,” Pandora said, startling them all from their abnormal quiet.
Barty's head snapped up, his eyes immediately landing on you, and he about fell out of the window.
“What? Like you own this table?” Evan drawled, not looking up from his book,his expensive loafers propped up on the table.
“Yes,” Pandora shot back, dropping down beside him and pulling out her books with clear agitation. "So if you're staying, keep your mouth shut."
Evan mimed zipping his lips and crossed his heart. Barty just turned back to his sketchbook instead of sauntering over to you with some cheeky quip on his tongue.
A prickle of uncertainty climbed your neck. Perhaps you really had upset him about that sandwich. You wish you hadn't said you were hungry as soon as it came out of your mouth, but you were too proud to apologize. You were so stunned by the gesture, so overwhelmed by his body pressed against you, his warmth mixing with yours, that you clammed up. Shut him down.
But even now, you couldn't bring yourself to approach him and apologize. Thank him. So, you sat down beside Regulus, the only other member of the group you found tolerable most of the time, and he greeted you with a dip of his chin.
You pulled out your work, determined to pretend Barty wasn't there at all.
Of course, you failed. Your eye kept wandering back to him, his sharp jaw silhouetted by the light, his pierced brow furrowed in concentration as his hand moved across the page, silver rings adorning ink stained fingers. He was dressed down today, jeans and Slytherin sweater, the collar of his shirt underneath it crooked.
After an hour or so of quiet, he dozed off, his head lolled against the window, quill dangling loosely in his fingers. Barty did that a lot, slept in unusual places at unusual times when the quiet dragged on a little too long. Evan mentioned once that Barty struggled to sleep at night, insomnia or something, and even the draughts Madam Pomfry made him only worked sometimes.
Unable to quell your curiosity, you got up to retrieve another book, brushing past him and sparing a glance down at his sketchbook. Your own face stared back at you, framed with rough sketches of your hands, your eyes, the bow of your lips.
Your heart gave a painful lurch, a burst of affection making your bones soften, and you nearly stumbled over the carpet, catching yourself on the bookshelf at the last second.
You hurried down another row, praying none of your friends saw you, and braced yourself against the shelf.
Did Barty like you? Like, actually like you? You couldn't fathom it. It didn't make sense. You weren't kind to him, or outgoing, or special. He was all of those things and more, the most fascinating, maddening, all-consuming person you'd ever met in your life.
Surely, he didn't see all of those things in you? But why would he draw you if he didn't see something of interest? Something he liked?
Fuck, you couldn't breathe in this stuffy library. You needed air.
You steeled yourself and walked back to the table, collecting your things.
“Something wrong, y/n?” Regulus asked, always too perceptive, and Barty stirred, picking his head up from the wall to peer at you through drowsy eyes.
“Nothing, I—”
Barty slid off the window and you lost your train of thought, heat scorching your cheeks. “Rushing off to hang out with your more interesting friends?” Barty asked, his voice a little gruff from his brief nap.
“More interesting friends? Not at Hogwarts,” Evan chuckled. “We're as interesting as it gets.”
“If you're bored, babygirl, all you had to was say so,” Barty hummed, striding up to you.
You placed a hand on his sternum to stop him from coming any closer, ignoring the flare of heat that accompanied the contact. “You were asleep five seconds ago,” you argued.
“Asleep and dreaming of all the ways I could keep you entertained.” He grinned, wicked and sharp, and the simmering heat spread to your lower belly, your heart beating fast.
“What are you, a fucking court jester?” You bit, unable to stop your arm bending as he pushed closer, the smell of ink and his cologne making your mouth water.
“I'm whatever you want me to be,” he flirted, and Regulus and Pandora groaned in unison.
“Will you leave her the fuck alone?” Regulus snapped, tugging Barty back by a belt loop. “She's not interested in your act, Junior.”
“Act?” Barty quirked a brow. “I’m dead serious.”
“Don't talk about his brother that way!” Evan shouted, far too excited to make the over-used joke once again, and you rolled your eyes. Apparently, the rare quiet time had come to an end.
“I don't give a fuck about his brother!”
“I don't give a fuck about you!”
“Oh, so you're a bitch and a liar?”
“I'm not a bitch, you cunt!”
“I'll see you guys at the party later,” you said, using their bickering as your window of escape. You all but fled the library, desperate for some fresh air and clarity.
If Barty sincerely liked you
did that change anything? Was there a way to know for sure how he felt? You didn't even know how you felt, not really. You'd never let yourself really consider it for fear of inevitable disappointment.
Sure, you found him attractive, everyone did. And yes, despite yourself you thought he was funny and sweet, in his own, odd way. And he was especially sweet to you. He never brought your other friends food, or waited for them after class, or snuggled in their beds. Well, besides Evan.
He didn't really touch anyone else either. But if you were close enough, as he often ensured you were, he was touching you whenever he could. Knocked together knees in the Great Hall, leaning on you during class no matter how many times you shoved him off, throwing his arms over your shoulder when it was cold, wrapping his pinky around yours in a particularly crowded hall.
Yes, his words were often obnoxious and bordering on insane, but his actions
his actions were sincere, thoughtful, almost tender.
Was that the real Barty?
Maybe you had been fooled just like everyone else into thinking he was nothing more than a joker, a rowdy troublemaker, when the reality was so much deeper.
Had you been all wrong about him?
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By the time you and Pandora left your dorm room to join the party, the common room was a madhouse. Green lights flashed in time with the thumping bass, bodies dancing and mingling in every available spot on the dancefloor, a haze of smoke and glitter over their heads.
You were wearing a black mini dress and heels, held together by string and a prayer. Your hair hung in loose waves down your back, your eyeliner sharp and lips painted. You knew you looked good, lethal in the best way, but all you could think about was Barty's reaction.
Would he like it? Hate it? Or even worse, not even notice?
Together, you and Pandora moved through the crowd towards your friends usual place at the far side of the common room.
Of course, you spotted Barty first. He was leaning against the bar, dressed in all black, tailored trousers and a sleeveless undershirt. Apparently he ditched his actual shirt before you arrived in favor of displaying his countless tattoos, most of them done by his own hand. His hair was dark with pomade and pushed off of his face, glitter clinging to the sweat along his lean chest and shoulders.
He looked like a wet fucking dream.
Xeno let out a low whistle when you and Pandora stepped out from the crowd, drawing Barty's attention from Evan and Dorcas.
His jaw dropped instantly and with a dramatic flourish, he pretended to faint into Evan's arms, clutching at his heart. Despite yourself, you giggled, and Pandora shot you a surprised look through a gap in her boyfriends embrace.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Barty gasped, sliding out of Evan's arms and onto his knees. “Look at—baby, look at you!”
You flushed under the attention, your blood heating as it raced through your veins, but you just rolled your eyes at him, a new confidence blooming in your chest. He loved it.
You strode over to the bar, closing his mouth with a finger, and leaned against the counter. “Firewhisky?” You asked the student bartending, and they stared back at you, dumbstruck, before rushing to collect your drink.
Barty leaned against your legs, his cheek against your thigh. “What are you doing to me?” He whined up at you, feeding into your surge of confidence.
You pushed his head away, tugging at the roots of his hair before releasing him, and he groaned, a low, panty-melting sound. “I'm not doing anything. You're just insufferable,” you chastised, accepting your drink.
“And you're beautiful,” he said, sounding almost reverent, and you nearly choked on your drink.
“Fuck off and drool on someone else, yeah?” You snapped, overwhelmed by his candor, even though it was exactly what you thought you wanted.
Fuck, you didn't know what you wanted. And even when you did, it seemed your subconscious wasn't always in agreement. You had wanted him to drool over you. He was literally on his knees, but some broken part of your brain couldn’t accept it. So you pushed him away.
“C’mon, you simpering mutt,” Evan said, hauling Barty up. “I think I saw a kegger over there.”
Barty started to protest, but Evan and Regulus dragged him away.
“You should have some mercy,” Xeno said, leaning on the bar beside you.
“Oh?” You raised a brow at him, taking a sip of whisky.
“Poor prick is besotted,” Dorcas supplied.
“He's full of shit,” you bit, that panicky feeling crawling up your spine.
Pandora shook her head, and your eyes widened. “It's true, I’ve never seen him so fucked up over someone before.”
“He's not the obsessive type. Not when it comes to dating, at least. He loses interest as often as he changes his underwear. But he's been stuck on you for months,” Dorcas said.
“Yeah, he usually obsesses over like quill tips, and arson—”
“You guys are serious?” You asked, cutting off Xeno. “You think he actually likes me?”
They all stare at you, dumbfounded.
“You can't tell?” Pandora asked, grabbing your face and shaking you. “Babe, he's absolutely gone for you.”
“Like, gone gone,” Dorcas added.
“But it's Barty, I mean—he’s never serious—”
“Exactly, that's what makes it so obvious!” Pandora cried, exasperated. “I thought you knew!”
“Why would you think that!” You shouted back.
“Because he says it constantly!” Your friends yell in unison.
“He was on his knees, y/n. Like literally on his knees,” Xeno said, shaking his head. “It doesn't get much more devoted than that.”
Devoted. It clicked then, the signs you'd been brushing off, refusing to see clearly because of your own veil of distrust. Because you didn’t allow yourself to accept the truth out of fear. Barty had been showing you for months how he felt, and not just in his words, in his actions. Bringing you food when you were hungry, walking you from class to class, meeting your barbs and verbal lashes with a smile.
He’d been wearing his heart on his sleeve this entire time, and all you’d done is punish him for it.
Oh, fuck. How could you be so blind?
You set your drink on the bar and pushed through your friends, ignoring their calls as you forced your way through the crowd, searching for Barty in the sea of green. You found him standing with Evan and few other members of the Quidditch team, cheering while a fifth year shotgunned a dandelion draught.
“Barty!” You shouted over the roar, grabbing his wrist.
He turned, his eyes widening in surprise. “Y/n? Are you alr—where are we going?”
You dragged him into a shadowed alcove, slightly hidden from the party. Your heart was pounding in your ears, tears already burning behind your eyes. “Be honest with me,” you said, forcing yourself to hold his gaze.
“Always,” he said automatically, brow heavy with uncertainty.
“How do you feel about me?” You asked.
Understanding dawned, and Barty's expression melted into something painfully soft, painfully sincere. “I just wanna be yours.”
The admission stole the air from your lungs, made your heart freeze in place. "M-mine?"
“Yours,” he breathed, his hands finding your waist, grip tight as desperation filled his eyes. “Please, let me be yours.” He lowered to his knees again, his head by your navel. “I promise—I promise I’ll be good, if you’ll just give me a chance too—”
You leaned down and grabbed the silver chain around his throat like a collar, dragging his mouth to yours in a fervid, frantic kiss. He surged upwards, lifting you into the air and crushing you between his body and the wall, forcing air out of your lungs. You wrapped your legs around his narrow hips as his tongue pried open your mouth, desperate to taste you. Desire pumped through you, scalding hot and more potent than the whisky, making your head spin, your skin tingle.
You tugged at his hair, drawing him closer, and he whimpered low in his throat. Your cunt clenched at the sound, your thoughts turning singular: make him beg. Your tongue traced his lips, tasting beer and cigarette smoke, and you sucked his lower lip between your teeth, biting hard before soothing it with your tongue.
His hips canted up into your core, his hands moving down to squeeze your ass beneath your dress and grind your core against him. You gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment, and he seized the opportunity to pillage your mouth again, licking at your teeth and the roof of your mouth.
“Your dorm,” you panted, yanking his head back by the roots of his hair.
He didn’t hesitate, throwing you up and over his shoulder in a startling feat of strength.
“Barty!” you squealed, giggling and slapping at his back while he carried you to the stairs, his hand keeping your dress in place so you didn’t flash anyone. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious what was happening, and you found that you didn’t care. If you were going to be with Barty, you were going to have to get used to being loved out loud.
“Look at her ass again, see what happens!” You heard him bark, his voice a rumble through his ribcage, and you rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself as he carried you up the stairs.
A moment later, you were being tossed roughly onto his bed, the door slamming shut with a muttered alohomora. Barty crawled up your body, his dark eyes flashing with a feral hunger that made your pussy purr, and he dove into your neck with his teeth and tongue, making you gasp and arch into his body, your whole body alight with pleasure.
“Easy, baby,” you cooed, petting his hair to try and settle his frantic affection. Poor thing couldn’t seem to control himself, so worked up he was rutting against your thigh. “I’m not going anywhere, darling, relax.”
He whined into your neck, clutching at the fat of your lovehandles. “Need you so bad,” he groaned. “M’sorry, can’t help myself.”
You rolled over him, straddling his hips with yours. “I know, love. Just sit still and be good for me, yeah?”
He nodded vigorously, watching you kiss down his body with heavy-lidded eyes. You pushed up the hem of his undershirt, licking a stripe between the valley of his abdomen muscles, admiring the tattoos you’d only gotten glimpses of.
“So pretty, Bat,” you purred, and felt his cock twitch against your chest, his head falling back against the pillows. “Been wanting me this whole time?”
“Yes, so badly—fuck, treasure, please—” he moaned when you grazed your teeth along his hipbone, sucking the skin into your mouth to leave a mark. His hand tangled in your hair, rings cool against your scalp, and you released his skin with a pop, admiring the plum-colored bruise left behind. “I’m getting that tattooed,” he panted, dragging a thumb over your spit slick lips. “Swear to Salazar.”
You giggled, shifting further down to undo his trousers and finding that he apparently skipped boxers. His cock sprung out to slap against this stomach, rigid and flushed, a bead of pearly precum dripping down to his navel. Gently, you traced a finger over the protruding veins along his shaft, admiring him.
Barty hissed through his teeth, his muscles tensing to keep still.
“Good boy,” you praised, wrapping your hand loosely around him, pumping once, twice without any real pressure. He was long and slightly curved, gorgeous, and you couldn’t resist dragging your tongue up the root of him, feeling the velvety texture against your lips.
“Fucking shit, you’re going to kill me.” His fingers tightened in your hair as you lapped at the head, savoring the salty taste of him.
You looked up at him through your lashes, his head thrown back, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, every muscle flexed tight. Fighting for his life to hold still.
“Baby,” he whined when you stopped, picking up his head to look down at you.
“Say your mine,” you ordered, hovering just over his cock, holding his wild-eyed gaze.
“I’m yours. I’m so fucking yours.”
You smiled and wrapped your lips around him, swallowing down as much of him as you could manage and he cried out, rough and breathless with relief. You bobbed up and down on his length, tongue pressing against the root of his cock and using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t reach, and you watched his soul leave his body.
“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted, using your hair to lift and lower you a little faster, his control starting to falter as you pulled him apart. “Bloody hell, you’re way too good at this. What the fuck—oh saints. Your mouth feels like fucking heaven.”
You hummed in response, letting him push you further down, gagging on his length before he released you and you pulled off of him to catch your breath, a trail of drool connecting your lips and his head.
Barty groaned. “Never mind, I’m getting that tattooed. Right on my fucking forehead so every time I look in the mirror—”
You climbed back up his body and draped yourself over him, silencing him with a sloppy kiss, his tongue laving across your lips to taste himself. “Do you ever stop talking?” you teased, kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheekbone, his temple.
In a quick movement, he flipped you beneath him. “There’s one sure-fire way to shut me up,” he purred against your ear before kissing and licking down your neck and chest. Every pass of his lips was electric, a bolt of pleasure straight your weeping pussy, swollen against your panties and desperate for attention. “This dress,” he murmured, tracing the swell of your breast with his tongue. “Wear it for anyone in particular?”
“I wanted to see your reaction,” you admitted, gasping when his big hand came up to knead your tit, fingertips still a little stained from sketching. His rings were harsh against your skin, and you arched into him, relishing in his greedy touch.
“Sent me to my knees, sweetheart. Damn near killed me.” He pulled the top of you dress down, your tits spilling free, and he took one pert nipple into his mouth, lashing it with his tongue while he teased the other with his hand.
You keened, hands flying into his shaggy hair. Every pull of his mouth went straight to your cunt, making your hips buck against his thigh. He shifted to press his leg harder against you, letting you chase your pleasure, and hummed in approval against your chest.
The friction was amazing, buzzy heat spilling under your skin and making you moan and cling tighter to him, trembling with unspent energy. “Fuck, Barty—please.” You weren’t sure what you were begging for, but he seemed to understand you perfectly.
“Say your mine, treasure,” he said, biting at the side of your breast, and you yelped.
“Yes, Barty! All yours! Just please—”
He pushed two fingers into your mouth, silencing you while he shifted down your body. Without warning, he buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your pussy through your panties with an eagerness that made your eyes cross, your teeth sink down on his digits.
“So fucking sweet, baby. Melting like sugar f’me.” He yanked your panties down your legs and returned to his feasting, laving his long tongue through you before sucking hard at you clit. He slipped his fingers from your mouth, needing both hands to spread you open for his consumption.
Your mind was wiped clean, erased completely by all-consuming bliss as he practically mauled your pussy, vicious in his pursuit of your pleasure. His tongue fucked into you, the slurping loud and lewd, while he massaged your clit with his thumb. You dug your nails into his sheets, trying to stifle your screams into his pillow.
"So responsive, baby. Ready for more?" He asked, easing his middle finger inside of your clenching channel, curling against the gooey spot behind your pelvic bone that made you melt into the mattress. Adding a second finger, he started nursing your clit again, letting his dexterous artist’s fingers coax you open.
Once you were moaning, loose and languid against the mattress, he ramped back up, working your g-spot like it stole something from him he was hellbent on getting back. He dragged his teeth against your clit, soothing the flare of pain with his tongue, and you felt yourself draw tight, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
“Barty—oh God, I’m going to come—oh fuck, oh fuck!” You lifted almost completely off the bed as your orgasm slammed into you, ripping through sinnew and bone to consume your heart, devour you entirely.
Barty slowed his ministrations, dragging his tongue through your spasming pussy with long, lush licks, his hold tight on your thighs when you started to inch away from him, your body twitching and shaking as you came down from your high.
“That’s my treasure, so fucking gorgeous when you come for me,” he hummed, smiling against your skin, and nuzzled his nose against your clit while he withdrew his fingers, making you jump and whine. “Not so mean now, are you, sweetness?”
You shook your head, trembling and weak, completely boneless beneath him.
"So soft for me, hm?" He dragged you down the bed, throwing one of your calves over his shoulder while he swiped the head of his cock through your messy slit. “Better hold onto something, darling. You've got me at the end of my leash.”
You wrapped your hands around the bars of his headboard and he grinned, a wicked slash across his handsome face.
“Fuck, I knew you were perfect for me.” He notched his cock at your entrance and with a smooth roll of his hips, buried himself to the hilt. You both cried out, the fullness, the stretch more intense than anything you’d felt before. “I was fucking made for you, baby,” he groaned, dragging his hips back before snapping them forward, your pussy fluttering around him.
“Fuck, B, feels so good,” you mewled, rocking your hips to meet his thrust for thrust, the bed creaking loudly beneath you.
He used his hold on your elevated leg to lift your hips off the bed, ratcheting up to a punishing pace, making you scream and thrash on the bed while he fucked you with every ounce of desperation and determination he’d harbored over the last few months. His teeth sunk into your calf, hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your leg and make you cry out, heightening the pleasure radiating from your core until you were teetering on the edge again, every graze of his cockhead against your cervix winding you tighter, higher—
“Shit, baby, I’m gonna come soon,” he grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy, erratic and rough, and you could only nod. “Can feel it, tres. C’mon, babygirl, come with me. Please, need to feel you come around me, m’dying for it, please, please—”
You came with a scream, your vision whiting out as sunlight blazed through you, eviscerating every ounce of tension, trepidation, fear, and leaving you a beacon of light, nothing but giddy, delirious stardust.
“Fuck, yes, that’s it—fuck!” Barty came a heartbeat after you, the swelling and throbbing of his cock as he painted your inside white prolonging your release, wringing every drop of pleasure from you until you both collapsed onto the bed, chests heaving and sticky with sweat, the glitter from his skin decorating yours.
You reached for him, trembling and raw, and he gathered you into his chest, kissing your cheeks and forehead with a dizzying gentleness. “Barty,” you breathed, hands curling against his chest, too overwhelmed with feeling to say anything else.
“I’m yours,” he whispered, cradling your face to bring your gaze to his. “I’m yours.”
You nodded, leaning forward to kiss him, taste him again, letting the warmth of his body, the heavy beat of his heart, ground you in the reality of this moment. Barty was yours, and you were his. And you were safe. He wanted you despite your attitude, your armor, your callousness. He wanted you exactly as you were, more than happy to lay in the shadows with you, or draw you out into his light to dance.
“And I’m yours,” you breathed against his lips, and he smiled.
“I'll be right back,” he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to your head before flying out of bed and wrenching open the door, his cock barely stuffed back into his pants. “SHE’S FUCKING MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNEEEEEEE!” He screamed down the stairs to the party.
A chorus of cheers rang out, reaching you from the common room. You buried your face into his pillow, laughter bubbling up despite the embarrassment scorching your cheeks.
Barty whirled around, a maniac’s grin on his face, and he dove back into bed, determined to stake his claim as many times as possible before sunrise.
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Thank you for reading!
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lxvsiick · 5 months ago
Text
SINK INTO THE MEMORY | HAN TAESAN X READER
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PAIRING: sunshine protector! han taesan x sunshine! fem! reader
SUMMARY: Taesan feels the need to protect his ball of sunshine, Y/n.
GENRE: sunshine and sunshine protector, imagine, fluff
WORDCOUNT: 3.9k
A/N: A Taesan fluff imagine because I keep giving him angst imagines . . . LOL! Inspired by another BOYNEXTDOOR Taesan self composed song -- SINK INTO THE MEMORY ,, man he's so talented it makes me cry
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à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
The sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting golden light over the playground. The sound of children's laughter filled the air, but on the far side of the park, Y/n sat alone on the swing, kicking her legs to gain height, her tiny hands gripping the chains. At just six years old, she was already a little ball of energy, always smiling, always friendly. She hummed to herself as she swung higher, her eyes bright with the joy of a carefree afternoon.
Suddenly, a group of kids, a mix of her age and older, approached her with narrowed eyes. One of the older boys stepped forward and shoved her hard, knocking her off the swing. She landed with a soft thud in the sand, her hands stinging from the fall.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, her face scrunching up in confusion. "You didn’t have to push me! I was almost done, you could’ve waited your turn!"
The group of kids ignored her words, laughing as they claimed the swing for themselves. One of the older girls sneered at her. "Who cares? It’s ours now."
Y/n stood up, brushing the sand off her knees, and stomped her foot. "That’s not fair!"
The group started to move toward her, their tone shifting from playful to aggressive, and for the first time, she looked nervous.
That’s when he appeared.
Han Taesan, also six years old, had been watching from a distance. Though he was known as a "troublemaker" by his parents and the other adults around, he wasn’t bad—he just didn’t follow the rules like everyone wanted him to. Seeing the group ganging up on her, something stirred inside him. He walked up to them without hesitation, his little fists balled at his sides.
"Leave her alone," he said firmly, his voice steady despite his small size.
One of the boys from the group turned to him, sizing him up. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Taesan didn’t flinch. He pushed the boy hard enough to make him stumble back. "I said, leave her alone."
The group exchanged uncertain glances. They had heard about him—how he wasn’t afraid of getting into trouble. It was enough to make them think twice.
"Whatever," one of the kids muttered, turning away. "We were done here anyway."
As the group scattered, Y/n stood there, watching the whole thing in awe. She wiped at her cheeks, where a few frustrated tears had started to form. Instead of crying, though, she smiled brightly at her protector, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.
"Thank you!" she beamed, bouncing on her toes. "That was really brave of you."
He shrugged, kicking at the sand as if it wasn’t a big deal. "It’s nothing. They were being mean."
Y/n, still glowing with her usual sunshine-like energy, dug into her small backpack and pulled out a crinkly bag of snacks. "Want some?" she offered, holding the bag out to him.
Surprised, he blinked at her before slowly taking a piece. "Thanks," he mumbled.
And just like that, they sat down in the sandbox together, munching on snacks as if they had been friends forever. Y/n chatted away, her voice bubbling with excitement, while Taesan listened quietly, a small but genuine smile creeping onto his face. He hadn’t planned on making a friend that day, but now, with her by his side, it didn’t seem so bad.
à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow over the desks. Taesan, now 17, sat at his desk, his headphones snug over his ears as music pulsed through them. He absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the table to the beat, his gaze wandering toward the door, half-lost in the melody.
That’s when he spotted her.
Y/n was passing by his classroom, a tall stack of books in her arms. She was struggling to balance them, her steps wobbly, barely able to see over the top of the pile. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she shuffled down the hallway, clearly in over her head.
With a small sigh, he pulled off his headphones and placed them on his desk. Without a second thought, he stood up, leaving his classroom and slipping out into the hallway. He didn’t need to think twice—he couldn’t just sit there and watch her struggle like that.
Catching up to her with quick strides, he reached out and grabbed the stack of books from her arms. The sudden movement made her jump in surprise, her bright eyes widening as she turned to face him.
"Oh!" she gasped, her voice soft. "You scared me!"
Taesan gave her a small smirk, adjusting the books in his arms with ease. "Why are you carrying all of this by yourself?" he asked, his tone low but laced with concern. "Isn’t the vice class representative supposed to help with stuff like this?"
Y/n blinked at him, her face flushing slightly. She offered him one of her signature bright smiles, the kind that always made it hard for anyone to be mad at her.
"I volunteered to do it," she said softly, her voice sweet but firm. "I didn’t want to bother anyone else. Junho was busy."
He glanced at her, eyebrow raised. He knew her better than that—she had a habit of not asking for help, always shouldering the burden on her own. He didn’t buy her explanation, not one bit. But instead of pressing her on it, he simply sighed and shifted the weight of the books in his arms.
Y/n noticed the look on his face, the way his brows knitted together in quiet disbelief. Letting out a small giggle, she nudged him gently with her elbow.
"It’s fine now," she said, her smile widening. "You’re here to help me, aren’t you?"
He stared at her for a moment, then let out a soft huff of amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I guess so."
Without another word, the two of them continued walking down the hallway together, her steps now light and carefree without the heavy stack of books. Taesan walked beside her, still holding the books, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She was always like this—too kind, too independent. But he didn’t mind helping. Not when it came to her.
As they walked, the quiet warmth between them settled in, the kind of comfort that came from years of knowing each other, from the unspoken understanding they always seemed to share. Even without saying much, they were always in sync.
And despite the heavy books in his arms, Taesan couldn’t help but feel a little lighter as they made their way down the hallway together.
à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
The late afternoon sun cast a soft glow over the college campus, the sound of chatter and footsteps filling the air. Taesan walked on the side with his four friends, his headphones snug over his ears as they laughed and talked around him. Though their conversations flowed easily, he was in his own world, the beat of the music steady in his ears.
That’s when he saw her.
Y/n was across the quad, her expression tired and frantic, her fingers flying over her phone’s screen as if typing a million thoughts at once. Even from a distance, he could see the tension in her posture, the way her shoulders hunched forward as she moved quickly, almost nervously.
With a small frown, Taesan pulled off his headphones, letting them rest around his neck. He paused mid-step, eyes fixed on her, then glanced at his friends. "You guys go ahead," he said, his voice calm but distracted.
His friends exchanged glances, then shrugged and waved him off as they continued on their way. He didn’t waste another moment, cutting across the campus to catch up with her.
"Y/n!" he called out, raising his voice just enough to get her attention.
Y/n’s head jerked up at the sound of her name, her eyes wide and slightly panicked. As soon as she saw him, she quickly turned away, looking down and wiping at her face. But it was too late—he had already seen the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
His heart clenched.
"What’s wrong?" he asked softly, stepping closer to her.
"It’s nothing," she mumbled, her voice shaky, refusing to meet his gaze.
He let out a quiet sigh, knowing her well enough to understand when she wasn’t telling the full truth. Without a word, he gently took her hand, ignoring her weak protest as he led her toward a quiet bench tucked away from the busy part of campus. The area was mostly empty, the hum of campus life just a distant noise now.
They sat down, Y/n still clutching her phone tightly, her eyes darting around as if she didn’t want to face him. He watched her for a moment, her normally bright expression clouded with stress and sadness.
"So," he said softly, turning toward her, "are you going to tell me what’s really going on?"
She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around her phone, her brows furrowed as if trying to keep everything inside. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her throat working as she held back the tears.
"Is it the group project?" he pressed gently, his voice quiet and careful.
Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. After a beat, she gave a small nod, not looking at him, her lips trembling. His eyes softened, and he felt a pang of sympathy. He knew she had been struggling with this project for a while, dealing with uncooperative group members and mounting stress.
"I’ll talk to them," he said, his tone firm. "They can’t just leave all the work to you."
"No!" she blurted out, her voice cracking. She shook her head quickly, finally meeting his gaze with watery eyes. "Don’t do that. It’s fine. I—I’m just a little stressed. I don’t want to bother anyone about it."
His jaw tightened. "It’s a group project. You shouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself."
Her frown deepened as she stared at him, her eyes pleading. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion. "Let me handle it. I can do it, really."
He looked at her, the determination mixed with vulnerability in her gaze, and felt his resolve weakening. He hated seeing her like this, but he knew better than to push her when she was already so overwhelmed. With a long, resigned sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just a little.
"Fine," he said quietly, his voice softer now. "But promise me you’ll ask for help if it gets too much. You can’t do everything by yourself."
She gave him a big, grateful smile, the weight of her exhaustion still heavy in her eyes, but at least the panic had ebbed away a little. "I will," she whispered, though they both knew she was too stubborn to ask.
He didn’t press further, instead reaching out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. As they sat there in silence, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little from her shoulders, knowing that—at the very least—she wasn’t completely alone.
à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
The library was quiet, the soft hum of overhead lights barely noticeable against the silence. Taesan pushed open the door, scanning the tables until his eyes landed on a familiar figure—Y/n. She was sitting alone, her head resting on the table, arms tucked under her cheek as if she'd collapsed into sleep.
He hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight of her, clearly exhausted. Walking over, he set his bag down quietly and slid into the chair next to her. Her laptop was still open, the screen displaying a half-finished document.
Taesan glanced at her, making sure she was still asleep. He could see the strain she’d been under from the deep circles under her eyes. Without a second thought, he reached for the laptop. Scrolling through the document, he realized she had been struggling with her group project—yet again. He sighed quietly and began typing, finishing the section she had started.
Minutes passed as he worked, his fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. When he finally finished, he saved the document, closed her laptop gently, and pushed it aside.
Turning his attention back to Y/n, he rested his head on his arm, facing her. He couldn’t help but stare at her sleeping face, the way her features softened in sleep. There was something calming about just watching her, knowing she was finally getting some rest after everything she’d been dealing with.
A few minutes later, Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Taesan quickly sat up, pretending to look busy as she groggily lifted her head.
She blinked a few times, surprised to see him there. “Oh, hey,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. “When did you get here?”
He smiled softly. “A few minutes ago,” he lied, avoiding her eyes.
She stretched and rubbed her eyes, yawning. “That’s weird. I must’ve knocked out.” She sat up straighter, looking a bit more awake now. “You won’t believe it though—my group members finally started helping me out. It’s like a miracle or something.”
There was a hint of suspicion in her voice as she turned to him, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Taesan shifted in his seat, shrugging nonchalantly. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said, avoiding her gaze as a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to read his face, but then shrugged and leaned back in her seat, letting it go. “Well, whoever it was, I owe them. Seriously. I was ready to lose it.”
He didn’t say anything, just smiled to himself, secretly pleased that his interference had helped her in some way. He glanced at her again, and for a moment, everything felt right—like this quiet connection between them was enough.
The sound of a distant clock ticking was the only reminder that time was still passing, but for now, Taesan was content to sit here, next to her, in the quietness of the library.
à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
FLASHBACK
Taesan didn’t listen. Y/n had been stressing over her group project for days, but when she’d mentioned her group members still weren’t pulling their weight, he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Even though she told him not to interfere, he decided to handle it his way.
Spotting one of her group members near the student lounge, he walked straight up to him without hesitation.
“Hey, you’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?” Taesan asked, his tone firm.
The guy—Sunho—looked up from his phone, sizing him up. “Yeah, why?”
“Well, you should really start helping her out,” Taesan said bluntly, crossing his arms. “She’s doing all the work, and it’s not fair. She shouldn’t have to carry the whole project on her own.”
Sunho scoffed, putting his phone away. “And what if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it?”
Taesan’s expression hardened, taking a step closer. “I know you’ve already got a warning for not pulling your weight on other group projects. I’m sure the professor would love to hear how you’re treating this one.”
The guy’s smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. He muttered something under his breath before grumbling, “Fine, whatever. I’ll help out.”
Satisfied, Taesan nodded and walked away, already looking for the next person in Y/n’s group.
It didn’t take long to spot Jihye chatting with her friends near the campus cafe. She was laughing, clearly not thinking about the project at all. Taesan hesitated for a second, but then pushed forward, determined.
“Hey, Jihye,” he called out, walking up to the group.
She turned around, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”
“You’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” she replied, her smile faltering as her friends looked at her curiously.
“You should stop being lazy and start actually helping her out instead of letting her do everything,” Taesan said flatly, ignoring the shocked looks from the others. “It’s a group project, not a solo one.”
The girl’s face flushed red with embarrassment as her friends stared at her. “I—I’ve been helping,” she stammered defensively, glancing at her friends for backup. “Weïżœïżœïżœre just
 working on it separately.”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Taesan shot back. “I’ve seen how stressed she is, and it’s not because you’ve been helping.”
The tension hung in the air, and her friends shifted uncomfortably. Jihye clenched her jaw, clearly embarrassed to be called out like this in front of her friends.
“Fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I’ll talk to her and help out more.”
“Good,” Taesan said, his tone still sharp. He gave her one last look before turning on his heel and walking away, satisfied that he had done what needed to be done.
à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
The sun was shining brightly on campus as Y/n walked alongside her two friends, their laughter ringing through the air. They were heading to their favorite café when she spotted Taesan across the quad, walking with his friends. Her heart did a little flip.
“Han Dongmin!” she called out, her voice bright and cheerful. The moment he turned to look at her, his face broke into a small, genuine smile, and he waved back, his friends chatting animatedly beside him.
Her friends exchanged knowing glances, smirking at each other. “Aww, look at you! You’re practically glowing!” Wonyoung teased, elbowing her playfully.
“Right? You’re like a total lovesick puppy,” Yoon chimed in, waggling her eyebrows. “So, do you guys have something going on?”
“Shut up!” Y/n blushed, shaking her head vigorously. “We’re just best friends! That’s all!”
They laughed, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “Best friends who smile at each other like that? Come on! There’s got to be more to it!”
She felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as they continued to poke fun at her. “Seriously, it’s nothing! We’ve always been this way!” She insisted, trying to keep her voice steady.
The teasing continued for a few more moments before her friends finally let the topic go, shifting to a discussion about upcoming events on campus. But even as they talked, Y/n felt a weight in her chest.
She let out a sigh of relief, grateful they had moved on, but the idea of having feelings for her best friend lingered in her mind like an unwelcome guest. Memories flashed through her head: times when he had stepped in to protect her, standing up to bullies or helping her with her books when she was overwhelmed. The way he always seemed to sense when she was having a tough day, how he’d show up just when she needed him most, his presence a comforting shield.
“Are you even listening?” Yoon asked, pulling her back to the present.
“Uh, yeah! Totally!” Y/n replied, forcing a smile, but her mind kept wandering back to Taesan. What if there was something more? What if they could be more than just friends?
She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the thoughts. “I mean, it’s just... he’s really important to me, that’s all,” She said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
“Whatever you say, Sunshine!” Wonyoung teased, giving her a playful nudge.
As they continued their walk, Y/n couldn’t help but glance back at Taesan, who was now laughing with his friends, the sunlight catching in his hair. Her heart fluttered again, but this time, it felt different—more complicated.
Could she really navigate the transition from best friends to something deeper? The thought danced tantalizingly at the edge of her mind, leaving her both excited and anxious.
à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
The library buzzed softly with the murmurs of students studying and typing away on their keyboards. At a table strewn with open textbooks and loose papers, Y/n sat, her gaze distant as she stared blankly at her laptop screen. The rhythmic clatter of keys and occasional shuffling of pages filled the background, but she barely noticed.
Taesan approached with a light-hearted stride, his usual grin replaced by a more contemplative expression. He slid into the seat next to her, his eyes scanning the scattered books and her vacant stare. Curiosity piqued, he leaned in close and waved his hand in front of her face, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek.
“Hey, Earth to Y/n,” He teased, his voice gentle but laced with concern.
Startled, Y/n jolted upright, her cheeks flushing as she found herself inches from him. She quickly backed away, her heart racing as she tried to regain her composure.
“Oh, um, hi,” She stammered, avoiding his gaze. “I was just
 thinking about stuff.”
“Stuff, huh?” He said, leaning back but keeping his gaze steady on her. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s nothing,” She insisted, her blush deepening. She fidgeted with her pencil, trying to focus on anything but his intense eyes.
Taesan didn’t press further, respecting her reluctance to share. They sat in a companionable silence for a few moments, the tension between them building like static electricity in the air.
Finally, Y/n took a deep breath and turned to him, her eyes full of hesitance. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” He replied, his interest clearly piqued.
“How do you know if you
 like someone?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Taesan looked at her thoughtfully, his own cheeks faintly pink. “Well,” He began slowly, “I guess it’s when you want to be around them all the time, you care about their happiness more than your own, and you just feel this urge to protect them. Like, you always want to see them smile.”
A long pause followed his words, Y/n absorbing the meaning behind his confession. His heart pounded in his chest as he met her gaze.
“I guess,” He continued, taking a deep breath, “that’s how I know I like you. I want to protect you and make you happy. I like you a lot, Y/n.”
Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, her entire face turning beet red. For a moment, she seemed to malfunction, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words.
Seeing her reaction, Taesan couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He reached over, gently taking her hand in his. “You don’t have to answer now. I just wanted you to know how I feel so you don’t misunderstand. No pressure.”
Instead of letting go, Y/n grasped his hand tightly, her fingers trembling slightly. Her gaze dropped to the table, her thoughts racing.
“You know,” She began, her voice wavering but sincere, “earlier today, Yoon and Wonyoung were teasing me about us. It got me thinking. I don’t know what I feel yet, but I do know that I don’t want anyone else to protect me but you.”
Taesan’s heart soared at her words. A soft smile spread across his face as he squeezed her hand gently.
“Then, let’s figure it out together,” He said softly, his eyes shining with affection.
Y/n nodded, a shy smile appearing on her lips. They sat together, hands intertwined, the weight of unspoken feelings finally shared between them.
à­­đŸ§·âœ§Ëš. ᔎᔎ 🎀
A/N: and then they all DIE! 😈 JK YAY! a happy ending for Taesan! This is my apology for all the Taesan angst imagines/stories i have wrote and will be writing in the future ... đŸ™‡đŸ»â€â™€ïž my fingers hurt from typing so much 
 but thanks for reading!
MASTERLIST
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024
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bratbarzal · 2 months ago
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Let It Happen (LH43) 1/3
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Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader
WC: 17k
If you're ready, all I mean is we could go, I've never craved someone's attention as much as yours.
General Warnings: an almost unbearable amount of sarcasm and snark, even more idiotic shenanigans, many affectionate empty threats of murder/violence, fluff, mentions of golf đŸ€ą, cursing and I'm pretty sure that's it for this half
A/N: in line with the general consensus lmao this has been split, part two will be posted as soon as it's finished (lol) but it's best read as one whole fic, it isn't a multi-part situation really!! it was originally supposed to be my submission for the eras tour fic challenge (hence the graphic I'm too attached to to change) but took a different direction to the song I was given, and I missed the deadline, and I pretty much listened to the secret of us exclusively while writing this whole thing. also dropping an overwhelmingly summery fic in december might actually be my brand. keep your eyes peeled for a christmas fic in july.
very special shoutout to shea @sleepretreat I made a random comment one day that luke gives seth cohen energy, and she fanned that flame like a full time job. ily shea!! I hope this lives up to any expectations and I owe a lot to your instigating!!
AS ALWAYS!!! never proofread!! I'll probably get around to it when the thought of a spelling mistake keeps me awake at night. and also!! please let me know what you think I am like a teeny tiny little plant that can only thrive under the constant shower of validation and you don't want me to wither and die do you? (I’m kidding) (I’m not)
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You kind of, sort of, think you might hate summer.
You haven’t always felt this way, though. Growing up, it had always been your favourite time of the year. 
No school? Check.
Going on vacation, sometimes multiple, all expenses covered by your parents? Double check.
Getting to do all the cool things you don’t have time for in the school year with all your friends? Concerts, festivals, beach days, bonfires on the evenings. Check, check and check again.
But 4 years ago, your whole world as you knew it was torn apart, and summers have never been the same, since.
A season that was once filled with light and companionship, never ending plans and joviality, became darker - isolated, getting yourself out of the house even if everyone else was busy, driving just to drive and making the best of your own company. 
School ended up becoming your escape, especially since you had started college - your studies and the chaos of Greek life distracting you from the calamitous state of your home life, making new friends that became like family and sticking to them like glue, where possible, clingy and possessive to the point of ruin, almost - and so the lack of it in the summers now actually sends you into some sort of warped spiral.
It’s manageable in the winter and spring, the breaks no longer than a few weeks at a time, but going home for summer is somewhat of a nightmare.
It’s hard to go back, hard to ignore the mess your mind has become when it’s just you and your mother - or, you, your mother and whatever bottle of pinot she’s 3 glasses deep into at any given time of the day - and you’re sat in a house that’s a cold reminder of the warmth that once filled it. 
But when Ellie - your best friend since moving to college, the girl who took the sister part of sorority sister to the next level at all possible opportunities over the years - found out you’d put your name down to be the caretaker for your sorority house instead of going home, she had put her foot down on your summertime sadness session.
Which is how you end up moving into her family home - spending the first few weeks integrating yourself into their routine while trying to grip desperately onto some form of your own - trying not to get too used to the feeling of such a big family when you know it won’t be forever.
You braid her little sister’s hair everyday, kick a soccer ball around with her little brother when he needs someone to stand in goal, wash the dishes with her mom, talk sports with her dad, and before long, you blend like a chameleon into their dynamic.
You pick up a summer job at the country club to cling back onto your independence. Your commute provides the solitude and quiet you‘ve grown accustomed to in the years before, a bus journey through town with headphones on, watching the scenery and admiring the greenery until you get to work, donning your navy blue polo and tucking your little notepad into your hip apron as you serve tables at the clubhouse restaurant and bar. 
It’s a much needed escape from Ellie, if you’re honest.
You love that girl with all your heart, appreciate her housing you more than you’ll ever be able to say, but if you have to hear her sit and mope about how hopelessly in love she is with Jack Hughes for even a second longer, you’re going to vomit. Or scream. Or both.
Jack and Ellie grew up together - their families close, Ellie’s dad best friends with Jack’s uncle, or something - and she’s been into him since he had teeth missing - a point she loves to hammer home when it comes to you always listing that as one of his (many, if it’s up to you) cons. Considering his job, and the fact he already lost one, not too long ago, a toothless boyfriend seems like a massive ick, if you’re honest. 
But Ellie is beyond reason when it comes to him. She worships the ground he walks on - talks about him non-stop, messages him every day, regales you with stories you, awfully, but realistically, couldn’t care less about - and it’s the only real problem about living with her.
Even beyond the summer, you two had shared a room your first two years in college, still live in the same house - and it’s a year round problem.
But being unable to escape, having your days tied to close to hers, and knowing that it’s bound to be worse with proximity, Jack back in Michigan for the summer, himself, she’s starting to drive you up the wall.
It wouldn’t bother you if you had never met Jack, but the two of you don’t exactly get along. He’s rude, and self-absorbed, and had looked down on you the first time he ever laid eyes on you, and you really shouldn’t let it get to you, but you do - the thought that your best friend is in love with an asshole, and that she won’t let you hear the end of it. 
Won’t stop whining about how he’ll never feel the same, or that she can’t handle another summer of biting her tongue, of being around him, feeling the way she does, and not being able to do anything about it.
She deserves better. 
Ellie has a heart of gold, and she deserves someone who handles it with care. If Jack Hughes doesn’t like her back, that’s his loss - but you’re kind of getting sick of telling her that.
Getting through a whole summer of it is going to be hard, you think, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than being entirely alone. So you put on a brave face, use work as your escape in the same way you usually do with school, and avoid blowing your top for as long as you can, suffering through the late nights and heart to hearts where Jack is the sole topic of discussion, and bask in the good stuff.
In the chaos of her siblings, in the closeness of her family, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms.
This summer could be okay, you’ve just got to give it a chance. 
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Luke Hughes loves summer.
He loves being back home in Michigan, spending his days out on the lake, or making the trip out to parade around Ann Arbor, catching up with all his college buddies, making the rounds at all the UMich sporting events he now gets a VIP pass to thanks to his last name.
The routine of it all is familiar, and warming, and it restores a sense of normality that playing in the NHL for the past year has so brutally ripped from him, already. 
He had enjoyed starting his summer overseas - making the team for the world championships and competing beyond the abysmal end to his rookie season - had enjoyed the time away from his brothers, if he’s honest. Quinn and the Canucks making it a few rounds into the playoffs, and Jack back home recovering from getting surgery on his shoulder - and it’s the latter he needed the reprieve from.
He does love living with his brother.
Jack looks after him in ways he’ll never really be able to make it up to him for. He always has, Quinn has too, but ever since Luke got drafted to the Devils, Jack has helped him adjust to the chaos of his career without much fuss or hardship.
And he really is grateful for that.
But, God, can he be annoying.
Especially when it comes to his infatuation with his best friend, Ellie.
Jack and Ellie have always been close - despite the fact she’s Luke’s age - and grew up thick as thieves, spending summers together, especially when the family moved to Michigan, and Ellie’s family were just on the other side of town. 
He’s always been obsessed with her, even if it hasn’t always been love - but these last few years have been different. Like a switch flipped in his head when Jack saw what Ellie was like when he came to visit Luke in his freshman year of college.
A version of Ellie that was no longer just his - no longer exclusive to their summer bubble, and lived in a world beyond lounging by the lake and hanging out with the Hughes family.
A version of Ellie who liked partying, liked schmoozing and charming everybody she came into contact with, liked being the centre of everyone else’s attention, not just Jack’s.
And it’s that version of Ellie that has driven Luke’s brother crazy, which has, in turn, started to drive Luke crazy. He talks about her non-stop, and it was those much needed weeks away in Czechia that almost had Luke forgetting just how stupid his brother has gotten about the whole thing.
Until he came home to Michigan, and Jack, in all the commotion with his shoulder, with ending his season early and starting his summer off alone, has worked himself into such a stupor about the whole thing that merely a week into his return, he has driven Luke up the wall. 
He’s grumpy, all the time - which leads to him being snarky, all the time. He huffs and puffs around the house so much Luke is starting to think he might need an inhaler, and he really can’t take any more.
Not when he’s making such a show of his irritation, stomping around with heavy feet and slamming doors that don’t need to be shut in the first place. 
“What crawled up your ass and died there?” Luke frowns as he follows Jack into the kitchen upon his return from therapy, holding out for the doors he swings open with a little too much vigour so that they don’t swing back into his brother’s slinged-shoulder. “I thought the physio is going alright?”
“It is,” Jack huffs, storming over to the fridge and yanking it open, the jars and bottles in the door clanking together in a way that makes Luke cringe. “I’m fine.”
“Tell that to all the hinges you’re testing the limits of.” 
“Don’t start with me, Luke, I’m not in the mood.”
“You just said you’re fine.” Luke rolls his eyes as he starts to scroll through his group chat with his friends from college, trying to check who said they might be free today to get him out of this vicious circle.
“It’s nothing.”
“Clearly not.” It’s interactions like this that confirm to Luke just how annoying Jack has become - because what reason does he have to be so evasive? Luke is handing him the opportunity to air out his grievances on a silver platter, and he’s rather slam cupboards and create creases in his forehead from frowning 24/7.
“Fine, it’s Ellie.”
Luke wishes he never bothered asking, although he has been wondering why he’s been seeing way less of her already this summer. He had figured Ellie was away with family until he saw her at the gas station the other night - had watched from the car as Jack had what seemed like a heated conversation by the entrance. 
“She’s refusing to hang out with me.”
“Has she said why?” Luke asks, although he doesn’t really care. He’s just asking to get it out of the way in the hopes that Jack talking about it might lighten the load, might make his own life a little easier. 
It’s the bitter muttering of your name that captures Luke’s full attention, his neck audibly cracking at the speed in which his head shoots up, no longer caring what could possibly be going on with the boys in the group chat. 
“She isn’t going back to whatever fiery hell pit it is that she comes from for the summer, and she’s staying with Ellie’s family, therefore Ellie isn’t staying with us.”
Luke hasn’t heard your name in a while. Not since he left college last year, not since he got caught up in the whirlwind life in the NHL, when a schoolboy crush on a girl he interacted with once in his entire college career became the least of his worries.
But one utterance of it has his spine straightening, just like it would have done just over a year ago.
You’re in Michigan. You’re at Ellie’s, on the other side of town. You’re barely two degrees of separation from him.
“Why can’t Ellie bring her here?” Luke asks, throat dry and voice breaking so subtly that he hopes Jack doesn’t notice. That could be fun. Would make up for the hell his brother has been putting him through since he got here. 
Maybe a little glorious sunshine might finally get you to notice his existence. He wouldn’t mind third wheeling Jack and Ellie if you were there, too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to prove he’s worthy of your attention - too shy and too scared to do so, back in college, but he’s different, now. Confident, almost. More sure of himself.
“She hates me.” Jack huffs, “Last time we met she was giving me the stink eye all night.”
And of course it would be his brother to ruin his plans, yet again. You’ll probably hate him, too - a hatred so strong for Jack that it seeps through his entire bloodline, because Luke of all people knows he can be annoying like that. 
“Trust me, she probably doesn’t care enough to hate you,” Luke scoffs, not realising the spool of information he’s just given Jack to unravel. 
“You know her?”
“We had a class together. I know of her.”
Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.
Luke knows a lot about you. It’s borderline creepy, the observations he can still remember, even after so long.
He knows you like only like coffee if it’s iced, had seen you with too many clear plastic cups to count, had watched plump lips chewing at straws by the time you had finished the drink. He had even, one time, tried to zoom in on a picture of your order printed on the side in one of his many states of delusion where he had been trying to build himself up to ask you out. 
He knows you can hold your own in an argument, had watched you debate with the best of them in your business comms class, has watched you shoot down most guys that approach you with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, and has watched you take down a frat guy or two, usually in defence of your sorority sisters - who Luke noticed you’re the most protective of. 
He knows you match your perfume to the colour of your outfit, had notice you smelled citrusy like lemons in yellow, floral like roses in pink, sweet like candy in purple, and clean like fresh cotton in blue. 
He knows the pieces of hair that frame your face curl when wet from the rain. Knows you used to volunteer at the pool on the weekends it was open to the kids of the community, would teach them how to swim. He knows you listen to Taylor Swift and has heard you humming just about every song of hers he knows.
But he doesn’t really know you - not on the level Jack is assuming, when his eyes widen and hope flashes across his crystal irises.
“You know how I’m your favourite brother?”
“No,”
“And I let you live with me all year?”
“My name’s on the lease.”
“Maybe you could talk to her for me?”
Luke sighs, shoulders heavy and eyes rolling practically to the back of his head. “I already told you, I don’t really know her like that.” 
“C’mon, you could at least try! I’m dying here, Luke! She’s hogging all of Ellie’s time, and she won’t give me the time of day if I try!”
If only Jack knew how much time you’d ever given Luke, he wouldn’t be asking him such an absurd request.
You’re so out of his league, it isn’t even funny. He probably couldn’t convince you to light a candle in a power cut, much less to give his annoying brother a shot to prove himself.
“You’re wasting your time, Jack,” Luke responds, “I’m gonna meet Dylan at the club. No, you can’t come.”
And by the time Luke makes it out to his car, he’s relieved to have ditched that conversation, entirely. He knows what’s waiting when he gets home, what his brother is going to be like for the next few months to come, but a temporary relief is all he needs.
He had already been planning on getting a few late morning holes in at the club, and meeting up with Dylan had been a white lie, needing some alone time away from Jack’s incessant whining to think about how he was going to survive the summer - and seeing you on your break, perched on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard by the clubhouse bar, basking in the sun and talking with your co-worker, he feels like he might have just struck gold.
Since when do you work here?
He supposes since you decided to spend your summer with Ellie’s family - it only makes sense. Ellie doesn’t live too far from the club - not as close as the lake house, but closer than Ann Arbor, at least. She’d worked in the club shop last summer, even when Jack insisted he’d pay for whatever she needed while she was staying with them - had said it was nice to pass the time with something else while they all went off doing whatever - and he assumes you’re doing the same. 
It’s the first time he’s seen you in a while, outside of coming across your pictures on his Instagram feed occasionally, or the flash of your figure in Ellie’s stories. 
He had thought that, after the year he’s had, he’d be over schoolboy crushes like this - would be over the way his breath catches just at the sight of you, over the way the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and stand to attention, over the way his throat goes dry as he watches your eyes crinkle from afar, watches your lips curve up into a heart-stopping grin.
But it’s like he’s picked up straight from where he left off at the end of his college career, pining after you from afar with hearts in his eyes and feet that start to shuffle at just the thought of approaching you.
If he’s going to do this, though, he needs to be clever about it, he thinks.
Approaching you on your break, limited to the amount of time he can use to put his point across, wasting yours, doesn’t seem like something that will work.
Which is how he finds himself bypassing you completely and walking straight into the bar, offering a friendly nod to the guy stood at the front of house, and letting him point him toward the right section to be served in. 
It isn’t long before you’re in front of him, sidling up to his booth, and he had almost forgotten how pretty you are up close. Hair clipped up with loose strands framing your face, chewing at your plump bottom lip as you scribble on your notepad to get your pen to work. And your honeyed voice settling deep in the pit of his stomach, warmth spreading throughout as you introduce yourself, like he has no clue who you are, and tell him you’ll be his server, “What can I get for you?”
“Five minutes of your time?”
The Luke that spent his college years obsessing over you might have stuttered - his voice might have broke, squeaked or choked in your presence - but while his throat does feel a little dry, he’s able to maintain his cool now, even when you look up from your scribblings to meet his eye. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he has matured.
His heart might jump in his chest, his mouth might tingle, his spine might stiffen, but he holds your gaze, hoping if you see a reflection of confidence that you might give him the time of day.
He’s seen you interact with guys before, has familiarised himself with the ten-foot walls you have in place, has seen others fold and try find a long way around, but he thinks that maybe matching your energy is the way to break through. 
Who doesn’t love a shortcut?
Your eyes narrow back at him as pouted lips form around a response, looking him up and down before tilting your head, and coming back with, “I all of a sudden feel the need to inform you we do have security here,” you point the tip of your pen to the entrance, where he was greeted on the way in. “I meant a drink.”
“Water’s fine,” his gaze flickers to the movement of your wrist as you click the other side of your pen, not even writing it down. “Maybe with a side of conversation?”
“I’ll go get your water,” you offer a smile, and the insincerity of it does little to cool his bravado, even if you head off with mutterings of why do I always get the creeps?
He watches you as you make your way over to the bar, not creep-like whatsoever, and he channels the nerves that sneak up on him, now that you’re distanced, through fiddling with his fingers on the table, pinching at the tips of them when you glance back over your shoulder, probably telling the girl behind the bar just how lucky you were to once again get the weirdo in your section.
It surprises him how little he cares, possessing more of your attention now than he ever has before, and if he could tell the Luke from two years ago, who spent every shared Principles of Marketing class ritualistically watching you chew on the end of your pen, that he’d be able to make eye contact without dribbling and breaking out into full body sweats, he’d have lost his mind.
He embodies a strange level of dislocated arrogance that manifests itself in his body language, sinking into the booth with arms outstretched across the back, a dangerous smirk teasing the corner of his mouth when you return, placing a pitcher of water down on the table and a glass with ice. 
“I’m Luke,” he tells you, placing a hand on his chest and doing his best to ignore the thudding he feels beneath it. “Hughes. Jack’s brother,” and when you look back over to him with a raised brow, he adds, “Ellie’s Jack.”
“And who’s Ellie?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your voice dripping in teasing sarcasm. 
“Funny,” he quips, biting back the urge to call you what he actually means. He can hardly call you cute, you’d probably pour that water straight over him. “I went to UMich, we had a couple classes together.”
Your eyes narrow again, and he knows it’s an intimidation tactic, a way to make him feel smaller than he’s acting, shrinking him down to a version of himself you can stamp your authority on, but he finds himself being resilient for once, carrying on like he isn’t affected.
He is. Massively, in fact. Just not in the way you probably want. Your indifference drives him in a way that presses into his spine, an inner voice pleading, notice me, I’m breaking through!
“Bauman’s class, Business Comms, you sat in the second row, I sat in the third, you dropped your pencil one time and I-,”
“I know who you are.”
So he’s been yapping on at you for no reason? Fantastic.
He can’t let his momentum slip, though, so he forces the corners of his lips into a victorious smile, and counters, “So you know I’m not a creep.”
“You literally memorised my seat in a class from 2 years ago, so
” 
“I have a good memory,” he’s quick to defend, fighting the urge to let his eyes linger on your pouted lips.
“Right,” you roll your eyes, “What is it you want, again?”
“I came to talk about Jack and Ellie.” He nods to the other side of the booth, and has to roll his shoulders so that his chest doesn’t inflate with misplaced hubris when you shuffle into the seat with a huff, discarding your notepad to the side as you level him with another raised brow.
“What about ‘em?”
“About how they’re hopelessly in love with each other and doing nothing about it.”
“You got hopeless right. What’s that got to do with us?”
Us. Oh, he likes that.
“I’m thinking they need a little shove in the right direction. And maybe we could be the shovers.”
You presses your lips together in faux-apology, a lopsided, patronising, adorable frown taking over your expression. “No can do, I don’t shove, I’m a pacifist.”
“A nudge, then?”
He isn’t giving up easy, no matter how much sarcasm you try to throw his way. You wouldn’t have sat down if there wasn’t something about this situation that irks you, too.
If Ellie is being only half as annoying as Jack is, he knows that you’re having a bad time of it. And you’re supposed to spending her summer with her - it can’t be easy, having your friend constantly pining over someone and refusing to do anything about it, if anything, making it your problem.
“Are you here to eat or annoy me?”
“Both,” he smiles, “I just figured a problem shared is a problem solved, and all.”
“How profound.” 
“C’mon, you sat down, you at least agree they’re into each other, and I know you’re staying with her this year, so I know you’ve been getting the same grief I have.”
“I’ve been on my feet 4 hours, I wouldn’t look too deep into me sitting down.” 
“Jack’s been moping around about her for years, I can’t listen to it anymore, he’s all, she’ll never like me back, this, and, I’ll never find a girl like her, that,” he whines, imitating his brother’s voice in the most annoying, high pitched tone he can muster, “I can’t take one more breakdown of her snap stories, especially not if it’s all summer if she’s not gonna be staying over, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
“How supportive,” the sarcasm in your bite does little to hide the beginnings of your smile, your glare softening into what he hopes is the start of some sort of bond, a shared feeling of exasperation. Finding your footfall in common grounds.
“It’s relentless, we can’t go a single conversation anymore without him bringing her up,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, finally giving in to all the ways this is starting to grate on him. “I don’t get why neither of them do anything.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, too, relenting a little. “She talks about him so much it kind of makes me nauseous.”
“How supportive,” he mimics, nerve endings set alight when your eyes meet his over the table, and narrow in a different way, almost appreciative, almost respectable.
“Can it, Hughes,” you scoff, “Me even entertaining this conversation right now is support enough, I’ve had it in my ear for months about how she doesn’t know how she’ll make it through another summer.”
“That’s what I’m saying. If we can get them together this summer, then we’re both better off. No more whining or crying or earaches for either of us.”
“I’d hope you didn’t make your way out here with the mere promise of no more earaches, Luke.” He tries not to preen at the way you say his name. “What’s in it for me?”
“You and Ellie can stay at our lake house.” He suggests, straightening up before he leans onto the table, elbows extending so that he can rest on them, “It’s closer to the club than her family’s place, it’s gotta be better than having her siblings running around you all the time, I can even drive you to work when I’m free, if you want?”
You blink at him slowly, as if to say, and? “So I can stay at your glorified frat house, and you can be my chauffeur?” You ask with an unimpressed raise of your brow, before letting out a humourless scoff of, “What more could a girl want to do with her summer?
“What do you want?” He asks, leaning further forward.
“To go back to work and not worry about strange guys propositioning me, funnily enough.”
Luke laughs, a deep, breathy laugh that rises from the depths of his chest and comes alive in an almost-bark, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his mouth when it comes out.
This is fun. 
There’s no way he’s letting you leave this table without agreeing - just the thought of one more singular interaction keeping him on his toes.
“Why don’t we make it interesting, then?”
“It’s about time you tried.” The quiver of your lip tells him everything he needs to know - and that’s without the entertained glint in your eye that accompanies it. You’re enjoying this, just as much.
“We could make a competition out of it.”
“A competition?” You ask, with a curious tilt of your head.
There it is, he thinks. Interest: piqued. He practically has you in the palm of his hand. Who would ever have thought, the way to a sorority girl’s heart would be a friendly little wager?
“Whoever actually gets them together, wins.”
It’s all he can think of in the moment - petulant and part-planned, but it seems to be enough.
“Wins what?” You lean onto your elbows, your gaze levelling his as he mirrors your positioning, having to slouch a little further forward in his seat to meet your pretty eyes. 
“Whatever you want.” He doesn’t intend it to come out as low as it does, doesn’t realise how close the two of you have gotten over the table, but he sees the flicker of something cross your features as your head tilts again, eyes still locked on his as yours begin to narrow, still just as pretty even when they’re glaring at him.
“It’s what you want that concerns me.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” he jibes, watching the way your lips part in preparation of another witty comeback. “What do you say?” He asks, not giving you the chance, seeing the way it makes your skin crawl that you weren’t quick enough, for once. “Are you in?”
You heave out a sigh, shoulders slumping - a tell-tale sign that you’re about to acquiesce - and Luke starts to feel his chest puff out in victory. This feels like a shut-out. It feels like the best performance of his life. 
“You’re gonna make me regret this, aren’t you?”
“Oh definitely,” he smirks, eyes tracking you as you lean back into the booth, retreating from him in defeat, a hand running through your hair as he promises, “You’ll warm up to me soon enough, though.”
“I can’t see that happening.”
“I can,” he shrugs, leaning back too. “I’ve been told I’m inevitable.”
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Luke can remember, like it was yesterday, the first time he ever saw you.
Freshman year, the week he moved into his dorm at Michigan, Jack had sent him across campus to check in on how Ellie was getting on. He had arrived with some extravagant gift basket in tow, plastic wrapped, a giant blue bow tied around the top and an assortment of snacks inside, and was left knocking for at least five minutes before you showed up.
“Please tell me you’re not another stripper-gram.”
If his throat hadn’t gone so dry all of a sudden, he thinks he would have had more wits about him to have questioned the use of another - a concept that had stuck in his head for weeks until he caught wind of a story of pledges for Pike being sent around campus and forced to lure girls to their house through way of humiliating song. 
But God, you were pretty. 
Siren eyes narrowed toward him, glossy lips pouted pensively, long lashes blinking impatiently as you awaited some kind of response that didn’t come in the form of an open, drooling mouth.
“I’m Luke.”
“Right.” You had sighed, pretty eyes rolling at him. “You’re blocking my door."
“Oh, I’m-,” he stuttered, immediately stepping to the side for you to come forward and insert your key into the lock. “Does Ellie live here?” He asked, confusion etched into his features as he watched you swing the door open, turning in your place to look him over again.
“Depends who’s asking.”
“I’m Luke.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I know her.”
“Clearly.”
“This is her basket.”
“Does she need to sign for it?”
“No, I-,”
“I’ll make sure she gets it, thanks, Lu!”
And when you had taken the basket from his hands, he had been too distracted by the way your skin brushed against his to properly respond, or worry if you had called him that as a nickname or had already forgotten his name, entirely.
He then spent days thinking about you, looking for you - at parties, in the campus coffee shop, online, despite not knowing your name - trying to commit to memory the way your eyes had sparkled when looking his way, until his first Business Communications class.
He had been a little early, first week nerves playing out and his constant craving for positive validation coming to the forefront, and was watching the door waiting for the professor to arrive. He had been slouched in his seat, chin in the palm of his hand, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor, and he had almost given himself whiplash when you walked in. 
He learned your name from there, learned a lot just from watching you in that class, but never really captured your attention.
And if the Luke that has been driving you to work every few days, who has been living with you for the past two weeks - who sits around the same dining table, laughs at the same jokes cracked when you’re all lounging around the house, sits out under the same sun, drinks from the same carton of orange juice in the morning - could tell the Luke that sat pining after you all that time, all the little ways in which he’s captured your attention lately, he’d probably have an aneurysm. 
When you and Ellie moved in, Luke had been the only one allowed to touch your stuff - and there’s a part of him that knows it was mainly because you enjoyed watching him work like a packhorse, hauling your cases up the stairs and dropping them in front of you with a huff, but there’s a larger, more delusional part that thinks you preferred him to the others, maybe even trusted him.
He’s taking credit for how quick you’ve adapted to the dynamic of the house, too. Of all the different faces coming in and out - Quinn’s friends, Jack’s friends, his friends, sometimes even his parents. If you’re around, you’re pleasant. You abide by house rules, some of them stupid, but set by the brothers so long ago that they just work now - like no phones outside of your rooms so that you can be more present. You insert yourself comfortably into conversations, you form your own relationships with everyone - you and Quinn trade book recommendations, you and Jack bicker while Ellie mediates. You do your fare share of chores - laundry, dishes, cooking, even. 
And he’s so caught up in just sharing space, just being around you, even, that for those first couple weeks, he forgets why you even agreed to be there in the first place.
At least, he forgets the incentive part - because he watches mindlessly as you interfere in Jack and Ellie’s dynamic, without a care in the world for the fact that it means he’s losing.
He watches you push one of them out of the way to claim whatever seat at the table or in the car forces them to sit beside each other. He watches you taunt Jack to just the right point where Ellie interferes, coos at him protectively and he melts into her affections. He watches you agree to plans he knows you wouldn’t in a million years follow along with, just to get them together - and all he can do is admire how easy you make it seem. 
He admires when you come out wakeboarding with the group, when you let him fasten you into a vest and don’t flinch when his fingertips brush against bare skin. Watches you bite your tongue over the fact you just got your hair blow dried - a fact you have no problems relaying back to him when he drives you to work the next day, and you’re muttering in his passenger seat about lake water giving you frizz - just so you’re not dampening the mood.
And when you agree to tag along to the golf course on your day off, despite the fact it’s so close to work if could be considered triggering, and you stick by Luke’s side so that Ellie can feign some sort of incompetence until Jack takes it upon himself to correct her form.
You stand by Luke’s side, the two of you watching with mirrored expressions of almost-disgust as Jack wraps his arms around Ellie’s body, and send a shiver down his spine when you lean in for only him to hear as you say, “I’d ask if you’ve put any more thought into what you want out of our bet, but I so have this in the bag.”
The bet.
Luke hasn’t thought about it since that day in the restaurant, if he’s honest, but he had known what he wanted then.
He’s hardly going to tell you, now, though. 
If he’s ever going to take you out on a date, he doesn’t really want to force your hand - not that he has a chance, he’s fallen so behind with this Jack and Ellie thing that it isn’t even funny.
He needs to up his game, if only for the fact that you’ll no doubt catch on to his lack of efforts, soon.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he taunts, because it’s what he does best, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“And how long do you plan on keeping them up there?” You call him out so easily, tilting your head when his eyes meet yours, mischief highlighted by the sunshine that speckles in your irises. 
“Maybe I’m luring you into a false sense of security,” he shrugs, “Maybe I’m letting you do all the heavy lifting so I can swoop in when those weak arms get tired.” He pokes at your side, basking in the way you scowl like you pertain any sort of threat to him.
He has you figured out, by now. 
“I didn’t have you pegged as being lazy, Hughes.”
“You spend a lot of time thinking about me, huh?”
“You wish,” you scoff, shoving when he dares to get too close, and it’s when Luke is biting back a full-blown grin that Ellie comes back over. 
“This sun is crazy, I think I left the sunscreen in the locker room and Jack’s nose is going all red, would you come back with me?”
You smile sweetly at your best friend and agree, only glaring at Luke over Ellie’s shoulder when she’s distracted with saying her brief, temporary goodbyes to Jack, and once you’ve turned and made your way over to the cart, he lets his eyes linger on your figure as you retreat.
The soft sway of your ponytail, the expanse of smooth skin along your legs, he’s completely hypnotised, and he needs to pull himself together, he thinks.
He tries to regain focus as he and Jack work their way through the next couple of holes, caddying their clubs around without the cart, and chatting mindlessly until Jack sighs heavily, like he’s been waiting to bring something up.
“I want to take Ellie out on the boat tomorrow,” He states as Luke tees up, resting on his club as he squints against the sun to watch his little brother, “Just the two of us, so we can talk about stuff.”
“Sounds riveting,” the disinterest in Luke’s tone is amplified by the lack of attention he’s giving overall, looking out across the green and trying to measure his swing before he takes it. “Have fun.”
“I was thinking I’d need your help for it to work.”
“I’m not being your boat-butler again,” Luke scoffs, mind immediately going to all the times their parents would make Jack take Luke out with him and his friends, and all the times he was made to wait on his older brother hand and foot to make up for crashing his hang-outs.
“I’m not asking you to tag along,” Jack scoffs, “You third-wheeling would be the ultimate buzz-kill. I thought you could be of use elsewhere.”
“You’re making whatever it is sound so fun.” 
Luke takes his swing, driving the ball and watching it soar to his desired point with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Jack watches too, stepping to Luke’s side to measure how far from his own ball it lands.
“Nice,” he mutters appreciatively as the two of them load their clubs into their stand bags. “I need you to keep Regina George busy, distract her or something, she’s stuck to Ellie like glue, it’s beyond annoying.”
If only he knew, Luke thinks, a worry in the back of his mind about how his brother owes more to you than he even realises. 
“You worried she’s gonna make her see sense?”
Jack swats at his arm and rolls his eyes.
“I’m worried she’s gonna ruin the good vibes like she usually does and I won’t be able to bite my tongue from saying something and looking like the asshole.”
Distracting you isn’t the worst thing he could be doing with his time, Luke thinks. It’s not like he has to go all out, you’ll no doubt be hanging out around the house and the two of you can hang together. All he has to do is keep you off your phone. Shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve adapted pretty well to mimicking the guys when it comes to staying off theirs.
It ticks off the box of trying to fight for a scrap of your attention. With no one else around, you’ll have no choice but to entertain his company.
And it puts him in front of your little race - lending a helping hand to Jack’s plans to talk to Ellie is surely the same as getting them together. It’s all falling so perfectly into his lap. He isn’t being lazy.
But he can’t let Jack know that, so he heaves out a sigh and offers a slow shake of his head for dramatic effect. “Fine,” he groans, “But you owe me. Big time.”
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You’re starting to find it harder and harder to pretend like you don’t want to be at the Lake House.
If you’re being honest, you don’t entirely know why you’re even trying to keep up pretences, but using your disinterest as armour has become like second nature over the years, and you’re hardly going to stop now.
Even if there are already so many little things about being there that are starting to wear you down.
Quiet, early mornings, for one - birds chirping just outside your open window, sun rays pouring in through sheer curtains that flow in the slight breeze, that light feeling that blows through your chest when you’re sat out on the deck behind the house with a fresh cup of coffee, looking out over the still lake and basking in the peace of it all.
And even when it’s not so peaceful, when the kitchen is full of bodies swerving around each other to try and throw together some sort of breakfast spread - pastries and fruit, bacon and eggs, various boxes of cereal on the counter. Quinn had even made a whole batch of pancakes one morning, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t come down every day since hoping to see him donning that same frilly apron that Cole had draped around his waist and working his magic with a pan. 
You’ve never really been a part of such a full house. You had been an only child for so long - and by the time your parents split, and it was just you and your mom, on the days she wasn’t already at work when you got up - and were so ingrained in your own routine in the morning that you think you might actually need the chaos to function better. The rush of bodies, the arguments over who drank the last of the juice, the bickering over who’s turn it is to do the next grocery run - it’s a kind of entertainment you haven’t been privy to in a long time. 
Being kind of disconnected from everything else isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, either. You’re not attached to your phone, checking socials to see what everyone else is doing, to see if your dad has sent any messages yet this summer, and you find yourself connecting a little more with the people around you and leaving your family stress on the back burner. You’re more focused on what’s in front of you, and your relationships with other people. With Ellie, with some of the guys in the house, with your friends at work, even.
And it’s nice to be closer to work too. You don’t have to rush around trying to make the bus - Luke has been keeping his word and driving you to the club most days, and where he can’t, either somebody else has offered, or you’ve just ridden one of the bikes in the garage that the boys said were free to use - the helmet hair is an easy fix when you have access to the locker rooms.
It’s an adjustment, for sure, getting used to being in a full house. Especially this one - with a constant revolving door of faces, friends of the brothers switching out week by week to come and stay, departing just as you’ve started getting to know them with a promise of dropping by again soon.
So far, you’re almost at double-digits for the names you’ve had to memorise. Some of them you were already familiar with, guys from Michigan who you already knew or knew of, but others were more Jack or Quinn’s friends that you’d never had the pleasure of meeting before now.
Cole Caufield being one of them. 
He had arrived a couple of days after you and Ellie moved yourselves in, closer to Jack than the other two brothers, you had noticed, and was going to be staying longer than any of the other visitors - having his own designated room in the house, similar to you girls.
You like Cole - he’s good fun, can take a joke unlike his supposed best friend, and has the kind of smile that almost gives you a buzz whenever it’s flashed your way. Your first few interactions with him were seemingly pleasant, despite Jack constantly in his ear with a hardened glare pointed your way and no doubt unsavoury words uttered. Cole would just shrug him off, laugh, meet your eyes and drop a wink your way - a gesture you’d usually squirm and cringe at, but Cole kind of pulls it off. 
He joins in when you chirp Luke, too - which, if your honest, is your main source of entertainment since arriving, so your interactions with him grow day by day.
You haven’t really spent any one-on-one time with Cole yet, though. You were hoping to, before he left to visit home for the weekend - for no other reason than to get the scoop on something you’d happened upon at work last week - and had planned on asking him to hang out on your day off. But with Cole now gone for a few days, Jack and Ellie off doing god knows what, Quinn and Luke working out wherever, you have no choice but to spend your free Sunday lounging around the house, trying to find something to suppress your growing boredom.
You start with your nails, painting them a summery orangey-red and doing your toes to match, then do your laundry, abiding by house rules that you rotate the loads between the machines, and fold out whoever’s clothes were last in the dryer and place them in the hamper on the side. 
You’re hoping you haven’t had to fold Jack’s underwear but you decide to live in blissful ignorance - trying to identify the load based on the rest of the clothing in there is impossible when they all share, so it kind of works in your favour. 
You FaceTime your mom for almost an hour, getting an update on what she’s been up to with work, and giving her updates on how your summer is going, trying to focus on your time at the club and Ellie so she doesn’t worry too much again that you’re spending your summer in a house filled with boys. 
And by the time Luke and Quinn come back from their workout, you’re in the lounge, 50 pages deep into a book you really couldn’t care less about, but there’s something in you that refuses to beg one of them for company, so you suffer in silence.
Even when Luke does join you, throwing himself down onto the opposite side of the couch you’re occupying and pushing your feet off his side like it’s his sole purpose just to annoy you.
“I was comfortable there, asshat,” you frown, lifting your feet back into their previous position and using one to give him a light kick to his thigh.
“Yeah, well, I hardly want your feet all up in my business while I’m trying to relax,” he sighs, sinking into the cushions with hands clasped behind his head, biceps flexing and tightening the arms of his t-shirt in a way that momentarily catches your eye. You’re thankful for his closed eyes, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you divert your attention back to the mundane words on the pages in front of you.
“And yet here you are when there are 2 other couches.”
“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to be near me.”
You try to ignore him, pulling your feet a little closer to your body and focusing back on the book, but it’s hard when Luke has such a presence. You feel the little looks he keeps sending your way like a physical touch, and the couch shifts with every slight movement he makes, so when he constantly shuffles, you start to think he wants your attention.
Of course he wants your attention. This is Luke Hughes.
“Are you just sitting down here to annoy me?”
He lights up, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask, and shuffles in his seat to face you, fully, bouncing in place like a puppy being teased with a tennis ball. 
“I’m actually trying to distract you, if you must know.”
“Bold of you to assume you have enough of my attention to be distracting in the first place,” you scoff, trying not to react to the way he smirks in your peripheral, the words in front of you all blurring together. If you were actually focused on them, you’d have lost your place, already.
“I think you pay more attention to me than you’d like to admit.”
“That’s some ego you’ve got on you, Hughes,” you narrow your eyes as you look above the edge of your book, “Is that what you spend that big NHL paycheque on, charisma classes? How to flirt for dummies?”
“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Flirting?”
Damn. You walked yourself right into that one. 
Sometimes biting back at Luke comes like second nature, words first, thoughts after - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it that way. It’s easy, the back and forth, and you can’t really think of an instance with him where you’ve sat in a lingering, awkward silence. You’ve really grown to hate silence, lately.
“You wish.”
“You think I’m charismatic,” he teases in a sing-song voice, knocking at your knee and wiggling his eyebrows when you glare at him. 
“I think you’re an idiot.”
“You’re not gonna ask what I’m distracting you from?”
“I don’t really care,” you lie, eyes darting back down and diverting the attention he so desperately craves away from him.
“Jack wanted to take Ellie out on the boat.” He says, ignoring your attempts to ignore him - pushing your buttons like a full time job. Like an operator for your last nerve.
“Good for her.”
“Alone.”
“No shit.”
“To ask her out.”
“Whoop-de-doo.”
“Whoop-de-,” Luke straightens up, like a whack-a-mole with his head positioning itself over the top of your book, and you kind of wish you had one of those soft mallets right about now. It would be so satisfying to bonk at his head, you think. “What do you mean, whoop-de-doo, is this not what you agreed to be here for? To get them together?”
You scoff, flicking to the next page of the book in feigned disinterest. “He isn’t asking her out today.”
This is the exact something you had wanted to talk to Cole about - whispers in the staff lounge at work earlier in the week doing the rounds would imply otherwise, but your main source is kind of a gossip, and you’re not entirely sure of their reliability, despite the few degrees of separation to the subject at hand. 
Mutterings of Jack and Cole and their little country club connections. 
You can hardly ask Luke of all people if his brother is as much of a man-whore as everyone is making out. Cole was a safe bet - he’d probably just tell you straight up what they’re up to, wear his pride like a shining gold medal. He’s upfront about his promiscuity, at least. Luke is more protective. Of himself, of his family, you’re not entirely sure. There haven’t been as many whispers about him. 
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because he’s a spineless idiot,” you retort, eyes flicking up momentarily to take in his furrowed brow. “No offence,” comes out of nowhere, and you surprise yourself with the instinct to lessen the blow of your words for the first time in forever.
“None taken, he’s only my flesh and blood,” Luke huffs, “You’re just jealous I’m winning our bet.”
“Sure,” you drawl, eyes widening to emphasise the sarcasm as you make a point of angling your head to the next page, like you’ve taken a single word in for the past five minutes. “He’s been talking to one of the girls from work. There’s no way he’s doing that and asking Ellie out, unless he’s completely brain dead.”
And when you look back at Luke, that furrowed brow has shifted into a full blown frown, pouted lips and eyes cast down as if he’s trying to figure everything out in his head. 
It’s probably the pout that has you cushioning your words, once more.
“Again, no offence, I doubt it’s in your DNA.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m no bio student but I don’t think there’s a genetic marker for being a fuckboy.”
“No, about him talking to one of the girls at the club. He didn’t tell me that.”
Why does he have to sound like that? Let down and unsure, quieter than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s like the tone he carries goes straight to your fingers, clasping the book closed without marking your page - because what business do you have carrying on that charade?
“Do you guys tell each other everything?” You ask as you throw the book until it lands on the coffee table with a gentle thud, shuffling until you’re sat against the arm of the couch with knees bent in front of you, giving him your undivided attention and feeling guilty that it might not be enough.
“I thought we did,” he scratches at the back of his head, nervously, “He literally told me yesterday he was taking her out to talk about stuff, why would he make a point of asking me to keep you busy if he’s not serious about asking her out?”
“You don’t want to hear my answer to a question about your brother not being serious.” 
“Who’s the girl?” He asks, ignoring your comment despite the slight ghost of a smile you see flash into the corner of his mouth. 
“Jessica, she works at the pro shop, apparently they’ve been texting all summer.”
You know for a fact that since you’ve started paying attention, you’ve seen Jack on his phone a lot for a guy who chirps you for your own screen-time, and who has enforced the house rule of no phones outside your room like a prison guard yells out no touching at visitation. So it sort of checks out. You’ve tried to sneak a peak, but he’s protective of his stuff like a yappy little dog with attachment issues at the best of times, so you haven’t really put too much effort into it.
“There were a few people talking about it in the lounge at work the other day,” you shrug, “One of the girls talking about it is Jess’ best friend, so not exactly from the horse’s mouth, but I don’t think she’d be spreading lies about her friend around like that.”
“Can you find out?”
“You ask that like I haven’t been trying.” That gets a full smile, a small chuckle that lifts his shoulder, even, “I was gonna grill Caufield about it but he’s gone. But I know you guys have plans when he gets back tomorrow, so if you want to take Cole I’ll hack away at the grape vine at the club?”
“Does this mean we’re teammates?” 
“No. It absolutely does not.”
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Hacking away at the grapevine is really a lot more like plucking absentmindedly at an overgrown patch of grass when it comes to workplace gossip. 
By the end of your shift, you’re leaving the club with a fist clutched full of loose blades, fingers stained green from the amount of information people were willing to ‘fess up.
Liam who works behind the bar had overheard a conversation where Jack had mentioned Jessica, but could only give you useless tidbits, like how he had to stop by the shop for a new putter, and Jess had been the one to ring him up.
Hardly incriminating, but you had a feeling it would be a small piece of a way larger puzzle. That, and guys are notoriously useless at gossiping, there’s definitely more to that story than Liam could even comprehend in his tiny man brain.
Cassidy who works at the front desk had seen Jack and Jess talking in the main lobby last week, definitely flirting, she had said - with hair flips and giggles galore - and way too familiar to be new. 
Much better.
Paola who has the alternative shifts in the pro shop was more than willing to take up ten minutes of your time ranting how Jess’ work is never fully done when it comes to a handover, and she spends half her time on her phone. Kiran, who works the bev cart every Monday, said Jack is always one of the most charming in their golfing group, so it’s no surprise if he is exchanging texts with girls from the club. 
You get dirt from most corners of the place, and it leads you all the way back to your station, to reservations set for the restaurant, where tonight’s list - unfortunately a shift you’re not set to work, although you very much question the serendipity of that - has Jack’s name down at 7pm. A table for 2 in the back corner, shielded from prying eyes and intimate.
And if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already worked a full shift, you would consider staying just to get the full scoop. 
You know Ellie isn’t going to be the one sat across from him, she’s been sending you pictures all day of her various hauls for her quiet night in. New paints and pencils, a sketchpad, some candles - she has all intentions of working on her watercolour technique.
So it has to be for him and Jessica.
Imagine his face, you think, picturing wide, panicked eyes as you roam up to his table to take his order. He’d actually crap his pants. 
But, it’s another set of eyes that you picture when you start to enjoy the scheming a little too much. The sad, teary eyes of your best friend, when she finds out the guy she’s been hung up on for half her life, who she has all but convinced herself isn’t interested, and is - absurdly - ‘far too good’ for her - yeah, right - is dating other girls while taking her out on not-so-platonic boat dates only the day before. A boat date that she had come back to your room, flung herself onto her belly on the bed, and kicked her feet as she gushed all about it. 
So you make your way back to the house after a long day, and resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to, yet again, get all your information on Jack’s date second hand.
You primed Cara, your colleague in the restaurant, to keep an eye out, and she promised to send updates on her breaks, and you have been holed up in yours and Ellie’s shared bedroom trying to keep her busy when there is a persistent knock at the door, and a mop of soft, curly brown hair pokes in before his eyes meet yours.
“Hey, Luke!” Ellie chimes, cheery and all too blissfully unaware of the potentially horrific circumstances you’ve stumbled upon. “You need to borrow my conditioner again?”
You scoff from your position on the bed, watching a slight pink hue flush up Luke’s neck.
“What? No,” he denies, running a hand through his hair and seemingly frowning a little at the way it feels. “I’m going to the store, wondered if either of you needed anything?”
“Nah, thanks, we’re good,” Ellie smiles, attention diverting straight back to where she’s drawing in her sketchbook, missing the way Luke widens his eyes and tilts his head as if to encourage you to take him up on his offer.
“Can I come with?” You shuffle from your position on the bed, swinging your legs out from beneath you and over the side as Ellie looks back at you.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted something.”
“Someone’s got to show the poor guy what’s what on the haircare aisle, El.”
And you’re thankful that Ellie has settled herself in for the evening already by 6:45, showered, pyjamas on, otherwise she might have tried to tag along, too, just for something to do.
You swipe her phone before she can notice and hide it under your pillow before you leave, thinking it might reduce the risk of her getting bored and texting Jack, or, worse, checking his location.
A trip out gives you the chance for you and Luke to debrief each other on your findings of the day - or, as it turns out, just you, because Luke Hughes might be the worst information-gatherer on planet Earth.
Finding his life’s niche in hockey is fortunate, because he definitely wouldn’t cut it as an investigator.
“He just said he didn’t know anything,” Luke shrugs of his earlier encounter with Cole, and you try not to gape at him in disbelief as he fiddles with the screen in his BMW, scrolling through the interface in search of the nearest store. 
You swat his hand away with a scoff, typing in a destination, “And you believed him?”
“Was I not supposed to?”
“You’re about as useless as a chocolate teapot, Hughes. What is it with guys and gossip, are you all really that dumb?”
“That’s the address for the club,” he points out, ignoring your jibe as he starts driving.
“Well done, you can read.”
“Why?”
“Because, thankfully, one of us is a good detective.” You snark, “Jack’s there.”
“So?”
“He’s on a date.”
“No he isn’t,” Luke frowns, attention momentarily taken from the road as he looks over at you. “I’ve been with him all afternoon, he would have told me if he had a date, tonight.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d he say he was going when he left, earlier?”
He hadn’t been home when you got back from work, but that had been around an hour ago. You figured if he was sneaky enough to book into the restaurant when you’re not working, he’d have his wits about him to avoid you, entirely. Whenever the two of you cross paths, you can’t help but try get on his last nerve, and he’s hardly going to want to start his evening in a foul mood.
“To get his hair cut.”
Jesus Christ, you think, he’s so lucky he’s cute.
“You’re so clueless. He’s at the lounge with Jessica, the girl I told you about yesterday.”
“And what are we supposed to do about that?”
“We’re gonna supervise. And maybe interfere, if necessary.” 
You don’t really have a plan, but it seems like the right thing to at least get a look in as to what the hell Jack thinks he’s doing, especially if you’re going to carry on with this whole plan of getting him and Ellie together. If he’s seriously entertaining other girls while making out to Luke that he only has eyes for Ellie, your plans might have to change. You’re not sure if Luke will be on board with the new path you’re willing to take, but you’ll be happy to kill his brother on your own.
“Interfere?” Luke’s eyes are wide, but he keeps them on the road, fingers flexing against the wheel. “I just came out for chips to make nachos, not play spies!”
“Cara’s working tonight, she said she’d keep an eye on them for me. I bet if I cover her hosting shift on Friday she’d sabotage their date. We’d just have to sit back and watch.”
“Oh,” Luke’s brows furrow, as if it’s taking any consideration at all to mess with his brother. “You really are an evil genius.”
You try not to think too hard about who’s been spewing that rhetoric already in his ear, and instead you smile when he casts his eyes your way, proud and pleased. 
“Thank you.”
It takes another 15 minutes to get to the club, considering Luke’s best Driving Miss Daisy impression, so their date is already underway by the time Cara is ushering you to a booth in the far corner, where you can see Jack’s table, but he shouldn’t be able to see yours, and agreeing to play along.
“Can I get you guys any drinks?” She asks as she hands over two menus, and you’re too interested in trying to gauge the vibe at the other table while Luke looks over his.
“Two diet cokes, shaved ice, no lemon,” he says, and you can’t help but frown at the way the specificity of that order rolls so easily off his tongue. That’s your order.
“Any food?”
“Could we just get some nachos, please?” You ask, sliding your menu across the table without even looking, not wanting to give Luke too much of a chance to peruse his own out of fear you’ll be here all night. “And extra picante on the side.”
“Extra guac, too,” Luke adds as Cara scribbles the instructions on her notepad, “And some of those chicken tenders, and extra ranch. And maybe some fries. Yeah, chilli fries. And breadsticks.”
You level him with a glare, already proven right in your decision not to give him too much time to think about what he wanted. He’ll order every appetiser on the menu, if given half the chance. 
“Thanks, Cara, that’s everything.”
“Sure thing, should be around fifteen minutes. They only just ordered,” she points her pen back to Jack’s table, where Jess is leaning onto the table and Jack is leaning back in his seat - heavy on the distance but even heavier on the eye contact. That little shit.
“Does he have any allergies?” You lean onto your own table to ask Luke, quirking a brow up when his eyes darken in response, mischief swirling in his emerald irises.
“Absolutely not,” Cara interjects, “I’m doing this so you cover my job, not make me lose it.”
“Let me guess, he ordered the steak, medium-rare?” Luke asks, and she nods, hesitantly. “Char it.”
“Won’t he complain?”
“He’ll just grumble to himself about how tough it is. It’ll put him in a bad mood. That’s what we want, right?”
“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding your head to ease Cara’s worries despite what you really want is for Chef Michael to poison the cut, entirely. If Jack Hughes wants to play with your best friend’s heart, you’ll play with his gut. But you can settle for burnt meat. Luke can work some sort of magic with that, you think, convincing Jack of all people that any first date that resulted in him coming home all sour-puss and sulky should never result in a second. “Bad mood. Bingo.”
“Fine,” Cara grumbles, “But if he even thinks about asking for a manager, you’re covering my next 3 Fridays.”
She storms off to the kitchen, and you and Luke simultaneously sink into your seats, attention immediately diverted back to the table in the opposite corner of the room.
“We should have kept the menus,” Luke mutters from across the booth, “Could have hidden behind them.”
“What are we, children?” You snark, “You can’t think of any more creative ways to stay hidden?”
“I heard PDA makes people pretty uncomfortable,” he leans onto the table, dropping you a wink when you glance over out of the side of your eye, “We should make out to throw everyone off the scent.”
“In your dreams, Hughes.”
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Luke sort of envies the charm you hold over people.
The way you can convince people to do your bidding with a mere flutter of your eyelashes or a flash of pearly teeth and a glimmer in your irises.
He has trouble, sometimes, skirting around his honesty or hiding his intentions - and he knows that’s not a bad thing, knows that being clear and truthful is an admirable trait, if anything - but the way you persuade others to bend to your whim with intricate white lies based on observations you’ve made or intel you’ve gathered is a praiseworthy level of genius. 
It had taken such minimal effort for you to get Cara on side, to convince her that being a little clumsy is hardly grounds for her termination, and spilling a little of Jack’s drink close to the edge of the table - close enough that it drips onto his pants and Luke can see the steams of frustration exuding from his brother’s skin from all the way on the other side of the restaurant - or bumping her hip on the edge of their table every time she passes are really just harmless irritations, not likely to cause actual complaint. 
You had used the mere tone of your voice to convince Liam from behind the bar to squeeze a little lime in Jack’s water, knowing just from observing him back at the house that he hates the taste, face curling in disgust at even the slightest hint of it, and Luke had watched your eyes gleam in delight every time Jack took a sip of his drink and tried not to spit it back out, seeking much needed reprieve to swallow down the world’s toughest steak cut. 
You’d even worked your magic on him, pouting your lips when the food had arrived at the table, and he had initially declined to share his chicken tenders with you - your grumblings at him ordering enough to feed the five thousand fresh in his memory, but so easily wiped away by the soft, sad look in your eyes, and your whining of, “But I didn’t realise how hungry I’d get. Plotting and scheming is hard work, Luke.”
You ended up eating half, but he could hardly complain - you were doing the heavy lifting out of the two of you.
He was sitting back and enjoying the show - enjoying your company, if he’s honest. Enjoying the way his gangly limbs would sometimes knock into yours under the table, enjoying the way he kept getting little nuggets of information out of you while you were distracted, sipping at your coke and making little comments about yourself, about your life, without even realising you’re doing it. 
And an unplanned, pseudo date ends up being the first time he thinks he’s had a glimpse at the real you.
The you who knows more about hockey than you’ve ever let on before, who comes back to his stories with contextual questions about the game, even has references to a few games of his back at Michigan, and keeps the conversation flowing despite your feigned disinterest, and a constant gaze cast his brother’s way.
That would usually drive him crazy.
He’s experienced it so often that he has come to expect it, people only entertaining his company to acquire the attention of his brothers, but that’s not what you’re doing. Not really.
You pay more attention to Luke than you’d ever let on.
You ask him about his time in Ostrava at the beginning of summer, even though he’s only mentioned being overseas once while you’ve been staying with him - an offhanded comment from Quinn at breakfast that you must have taken on. Ask him about all the food he tried while out there, when he mentions he doesn’t like picante, and you use it as a springboard to talk about what sort of spices he does like, or if he’s the type to try things or stick to what he knows. 
You ask him about being the youngest sibling, and it stems from an offhanded comment Luke had grumbled about always being the last to be clued in on stuff, about how Jack had probably confided in Quinn about his extracurricular activities at the club, and didn’t trust him enough to let him in on the fact he’s going out on dates. You ask if he usually figures things out himself before he’s told them, if that’s what makes him so good at observing and analysing stuff, and he hadn’t ever realised he was particularly good at those things before you brought it up. But then you reference a day in class one time, where he had picked up on something in a textbook that you never would have figured out in a million years, and his heart leaps at the praise you don’t even realise you’re giving him.
You sandwich your perceptions in your usual snark, but he doesn’t miss the slight curve of your lips anymore when he bites straight back, knowing now that there is some part of you that feels the nip of his teeth, that acknowledges his existence beyond him being a speck of inconvenience in your peripheral.
And he gets a little carried away in that acknowledgement - stops paying attention himself to what is happening on the other side of the room and tries to focus on what’s in front of him; the girl he pined after his entire college career, sat sharing nachos and pretending not to know him at a level you so clearly do.
You must get carried away, too, because neither of you notice Jack’s date wrapping up until Luke catches him hand his card over to Cara.
He’s lost count of how long the two of you have been at the club, now - way longer than it takes to get chips from the store, that’s for sure - and all he does know is that if Jack catches either of you two here, after a night of mishaps, bad food, spilled drinks and Cara’s incessant clumsiness, he’ll know who’s to blame. 
“We better get out of here before he sees us,” Luke sighs, not entirely wanting to wrap up his time with you but knowing he doesn’t really have a choice.
“I’ve just got to pick something up before we head back,” you reply, edging out of the booth at the same time Luke does, “I’ll meet you out front just give me two minutes?”
“Be quick,” he tells you before you scurry off, and he flags down Cara, who tells him you already put your bill on your worker tab. He tells her to switch it to his, and that he’ll drop by tomorrow to pay it off, promising to leave her a good tip for her stellar services for the evening. 
He waits where you asked him to, making sure to stick to the side of the entryway where he can duck for cover if his brother makes an appearance - but you show up first, skipping out from the staff lounge with a bag of tortilla chips in hand.
“Let’s go, Lukey boy!” He follows you out like a puppy on a leash, all the way to where his car is parked, almost bumping into you when you stop and turn without warning, stretching your hand out to him. “Give me your keys.”
“Are you crazy?” He snorts, “You’re not driving my car!”
“I know a shortcut!” You reason, stepping forward and making a grabby motion with your fingers, “We gotta beat Jack home, I just paid another server $20 to spill a whole drink on him before he leaves and he’s gonna be pissed. I want to see the meltdown back at the house and you drive like a nun!”
Luke doesn’t know why he gives in so easy - it could be the proximity, the way you’re so close you have to look up at him, eyes twinkling softly under the moonlight, voice carrying over to him like a siren song, or it could just be because he’s weak - but he hands his keys over with a roll of his eyes and climbs into the passenger side, sliding the seat back with a huff to accommodate his long legs and watching as you adjust the driver’s side, cringing at the way he’s gonna have to figure out exactly how he had it before.
You drive like a maniac, to the point where Luke has to screw his eyes shut as you use some back road, can hear the squelch of mud beneath his tires and squirms at the thought of having to take it to the car wash, tomorrow. 
But you make it back to the lake house much quicker than if he were driving, he’ll give you that. So quick that you feel comfortable enough to turn to him once you’ve pulled up, in no rush to unbuckle and get out to get inside before Jack gets home.
“Just so we’re clear, this is a point under my name. You’re not claiming tonight as a win.”
Luke chuckles, turning in his seat to face you, features illuminated by the dim overhead light that turns on when the engine switches off and a slight flush of exhilaration to your cheeks. There’s no pretending you haven’t enjoyed yourself, not tonight. “But the steak thing was my idea?”
“If it weren’t for me, you’d be sat watching baseball and thinking he was getting a 3 hour haircut, you can’t seriously be trying to steal this from me, I thought you athletes had integrity!”
“You’re really keeping score?”
“You’re not?”
If Luke’s honest, he hasn’t really thought about your whole wager all night. He’s been too wrapped up in the idea that his brother had lied to him. Twice. And now his whole plan for the two of you all summer has potentially been messed up. But hearing you mention it, hearing you talk about it like it hasn’t been flushed down the toilet by his brother’s idiocy sparks something in him - excitement, anticipation. He doesn’t want to let this go.
“I actually think we made a good team back there,” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours to gauge your reaction to the thought of doing this together.
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re gonna lose,” you retort, eyes sparkling with those same sentiments he had just felt. 
“Probably,” he acquiesces, “Also ‘cause you kind of scare me a little after tonight, last thing I wanna do is go up against you when you have the power to turn half the country club against me.”
You smirk, and his eyes are drawn to the plush curve of your lips, watching them as they form around the softly spoken words, “God forbid you can’t go a round of golf without your caddy breaking down.”
“Exactly.” He mutters back, glad to see your gaze is still zeroed in on him when he meets it again. He can feel the thump thump thump of his pulse in his ears, and takes a deep breath before proposing, “Partners?”
He cocks a brow and holds his pinky out over the centre console, and you eye the digit, sceptically, narrowing your eyes into a glare before raising them to meet his. “Fine,” you grumble, then hook your little finger through his and tighten it to shake, a slight yelp of surprise filling the car when he tugs, your lax arm giving way until your knuckle touches his lips and he kisses it.
“Ew,” you whine, snatching your finger back as he fills the space himself with a hearty chuckle, wiping it on his hoody in disgust. “That’s gross!”
“No take backs,” he smiles, victorious, with his chest puffed out, primed for you to swat at with the flex of your hand, and the two of you are only pulled out of the moment by the sound of tyres pulling up on the gravel behind you, both of you stumbling to unbuckle yourselves and climb out of the car. 
Jack is exiting his own vehicle behind, and stomps down the driveway, shouldering past you until he realises who he has passed, turning back and looking at you with suspicion cast across his features. 
“Where have you twobeen?” Jack asks, glancing a curious eye between the two of you before meeting Luke’s gaze, levelling him with an inquisitive glare.
“We went to the store for chips,” Luke holds the bag up, the crinkle loud enough for Jack to hear, and he feels an insurgence rising within him, spurred on by the way his brother is looking at him like he’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions. “Nice haircut.”
Jack runs a hand through his hair, surprise crossing his features in a brief flash at the call out, like he had never even expected Luke to notice his hair looks no different to the last time he saw him mere hours ago, like he would never even need to question his alibi.
“Oh, yeah, I got the day wrong. Went out for dinner instead.”
“On your own?” You ask from beside him, your presence giving Luke the kind of back up he very much needs right now, a new target for Jack’s narrowed eyes that takes the heat off of him a little, lessens the burden of lying to his brother - despite Jack being the one who started it, it doesn’t make Luke feel any less bad, doesn’t quell the need to word vomit and admit to all the ludicrous things he had done to ruin Jack’s night. “You end up having a little accident there, bud?”
Luke tries not to outwardly laugh as his attention is diverted to the wet patch that still soaks up the front of Jack’s pants, lips quivering as he presses them together, oblivious to the steam pouring out of his brother’s ears as he immediately gets riled up. 
“One of your esteemed colleagues at the club apparently lacks hand eye co-ordination. Plus, some of us like our own company,” Jack scoffs, “Some of us can go an evening without the need to annoy anybody else.”
“It’s not news to me that you’re in love with yourself, dude,” you retort back, entirely unbothered by his jibes. “Bet you’ve got all sorts of riveting thoughts swirling around that ginormous head of yours, must keep you busy for hours on end.”
“At least I have thoughts, at least I’m not some airheaded-,”
“Hey,” Luke’s tone is authoritative when he calls out, stern and demanding, “Cut it out, Jack.”
“She started it!”
“She asked you a question,” Luke frowns, disappointed with how quick his brother had taken to escalating the situation, all in an attempt to deflect the attention from his own deception. He knows you don’t need him to protect you from Jack’s sharp tongue, knows you can very much defend yourself, but he needs to vent his frustrations, somehow, without causing a bust up on the driveway. “You could have just give her a straight answer without biting her head off.”
He feels like you’re a little closer, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know it’s the slight brush of your arm against his or if it’s something else, something less tangible - but it warms him, all the same. Steadies the static thump of his heart in his chest at the thought of starting an argument with his brother out of nowhere. 
“Whatever,” Jack rolls his eyes, “I’m going to bed.”
And as Jack turns, Luke sees your lips part, ready to send him off with the last word until a large hand clamps itself over your mouth, and your wide eyes meet his over the sides of his fingers.
He’s not sure why he did it, why he all of a sudden feels comfortable enough to cross the boundaries of purposeful touch, but he doesn’t entirely regret it.
Plush lips press mid-word against his palm, and your skin is soft, cheeks warming ever so slightly beneath his hand.
“You gotta let him go, there’s no use fighting with him tonight, it’s better to drag it out. Didn’t think I’d have to teach you about the beauty of the long game,” he says, voice low as he watches his brother retreat to the house, waiting until he’s safe inside to retract his hand. “Not like this, anyway.”
“Your brother’s an asshole,” you grumble, “Full offence.”
“No arguments from me,” Luke concedes, holding his hands as if surrendering to the fact, himself. “What are you gonna tell Ellie?”
“Nothing.” You sigh, stepping a little down the drive and toward the house before turning back to him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, partner.”
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There have only been a handful of times in your life you’ve ever been thankful for work coinciding with huge plans, but when the group had decided that they wanted to go see Zach Bryan play Ford Field, you had thanked your lucky stars you had been put down to work a full shift at the restaurant and wouldn’t be able to go.
Not only for the fact that he isn’t really your thing, but for the fact that you’re finally getting a full evening to yourself.
So far, in your time at the house, most evenings have been spent with everyone else - group dinners, game nights, movie nights, even a couple of girls nights with just you and Ellie scattered in there, but nothing on your own, yet. 
You can’t wait. And with an empty house, you have a full pamper night planned. You’ve been stocking up odd bits on your trips to the store over the past couple of weeks - sheet masks, aromatherapy candles, you’ve even picked up some flower petals from the spa at the club, in the hopes that you might even treat yourself to a relaxing soak in the bathtub. You can play whatever music you want, make whatever food you want, sit wherever you want in the house, out on the deck, overlooking the lake with a book in hand and no chirpy voices in your ear all night.
You can’t wait.
The only downside is not having a ride home, but you haven’t finished too late. The sun will still be up for a couple of hours, and a walk in the simmering heat back to the house doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.
Your feet carry you with ease down the back roads, and you even make the journey without your headphones on, taking in the scenery, the blissful peace of your surroundings, so lost in the tranquility of it all that the sight of Luke washing his car on the drive when you get home dampens your mood as quick as a torrential downpour of rain, flash floods coursing through your evening and wrecking your plans entirely. 
“What the hell are you doing?” You can’t help the bite in your tone as you approach, sneakers crunching against the gravel as Luke pauses the hose, looks over at you with the sun in his eyes, and you have to remind yourself he’s just ruined the one night you have for yourself before you get distracted by the fact that he’s shirtless.
“Washing my car?” he calls back, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Detroit right now?”
Luke shrugs, and you have to will your eyeballs not to move any lower than his neck to watch his shoulders lift and drop, lest you get too caught up in the broad expanse of his chest and do something ridiculous like drool.
“Wasn’t feeling it.”
“You weren’t feeling a concert you guys haven’t shut up about for weeks, but you were feeling washing your car?”
He’s dead. When he’s finished with his car and he retreats to his room, you’re gonna smother him with a pillow and discard of his body in the lake. You’re not even gonna let him shower, first. That’s what the lake’s for.
He’s crapping all over your plans because he wasn’t feeling it?
“It needs cleaning,” he shrugs again, and you swear you’re gonna jump in and run him over with the damn thing, “In fact, you really should be helping me.”
There’s a small part of you that feels like the thoughts of violence are worryingly aggressive, but then a larger part of you realises he must have a death wish.
“How’d you get to that conclusion?”
“You’re the one who drove us through a swamp,” he scoffs, a pointed hand flung toward the body of his car, where the sides are lined with a thick layer of dried dirt from the other night, “You get it dirty, you clean it up.”
“As much as I would absolutely love to fulfil your pervy car wash fantasy, I have much better things I could be doing with my time.”
Or you did, until Luke rained all over your parade of solitude.
“Like what?”
“Literally anything but this.” You gesture at the show he’s putting on. The suds dripping from the roof of the car, the hose in his hand, the buckets scattered around the perimeter. “I need to shower, I just walked from the club and I-,”
A death wish might actually be an understatement.
Luke wants you to murder him in the most gruesome, horrific way you could possibly muster - he has to, because there’s no other explanation for why he’d turn the hose on, point it straight at you, and drench the front of you, entirely. 
You can feel the fabric of your t-shirt dampening and sticking to your chest, and you scrunch your eyes shut to stop droplets of water slipping into them, thankful that when they open again, his own are looking back at you, and not any lower.
You’d really have a reason to kill him, then. 
“You did not just do that.” You growl, glaring back at him with a clenched jaw as the fucker beams back at you, pressing the trigger once more in a short burst that fires straight at your chest, again.
“What, that?”
“You’re so dead.”
You drop your bag and launch for him, aiming to take the hose from his grip, but he fires it again out of sheer panic, the water spouting out from between your splayed fingers, cold and pressured, and it soaks the both of you, raining down as you grapple for the head and Luke remains unrelenting.
There are squeals and yelps called out into the misty air between the two of you, and you get to a point you can’t tell what sounds are coming from who, but you manage to wrestle the hose from his grip and point it straight at him as he jets away with a laugh that rumbles straight from his belly.
It’s the kind of laugh that elicits another, and you don’t realise until he’s circling back to you that the laughter is coming from you - giggling, even, as the two of you engage in a water fight like misbehaving children - and it isn’t long until all aggressive thoughts wash away with the suds that slip to the gravel, forgetting why you were even annoyed in the first place.
It shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but after the long day at work, and the tiring walk back, letting your guard down and engaging it a little mindless chaos seems to wake you up a little.
Your childish game gets Luke what he wanted, anyway, the two of you working together to clean his car when you realise he’s only running in front of all the parts that actually need hosing off and relying on you having bad aim to get the job done, and you figure getting your hands a little dirty is harmless when you’re already soaked through and in dire need of a shower.
And your pamper-plans of a bubble bath and self-care don’t entirely come to fruition, but Luke promises to make up for his petulance by ordering pizza and sticking a movie on, so you bite your tongue to refrain from voicing your initial complaints, and decide to just go with the flow, for once - he hasn’t exactly led you astray, yet.  
You take a little longer in the shower than normal, with no one around to complain about hogging the bathroom or worry about them barging in unannounced, and you suppose that’s a small victory - one little luxury you get to cling to as you bask in the steam, letting all the tension slip from your aching muscles after being on your feet all day.
And once you’re out, hair dried just enough with a towel that it isn’t going to drip or soak your t-shirt, and you’re dressed in your pyjamas, you make your way downstairs, where Luke has already set up a plethora of snacks in the living room.
Nachos, popcorn, candy and drinks scattered across the coffee table as he relaxes on the couch, hair extra curly after his shower and an old Michigan t-shirt stretched tight across his now much-broader chest. 
“Thought I’d wait for you to pick a movie,” he chimes up from where he’s sat, gesturing with a lazy point to the wall of blu-rays beside the TV. 
“Did Netflix never make it to the Hughes household?” You scoff in disbelief as you take them all in properly for the first time. You’d seen them in your peripheral when you’d been hanging out down here, before, but actually looking at them up close, reading all the titles, seeing the sheer volume of how many there are, it kind of surprises you.
“We can look on Netflix if you want. They always take stuff off, though.”
You know. All your favourite movies get taken off of streaming, and you only ever find out about it when you’re really in the mood to watch them. As soon as you realise the wall is alphabetised, you know exactly where to look.
“That’s alright,” you shrug, stepping to the side as you track backwards, through M, L, K and J. “You guys are pretty analogue, I’ve noticed.”
“What do you mean?”
“The board games, the DVDs, the whole no phones around the house thing.”
“No phones around the house is common courtesy,” he chuckles, “But I guess we’re a little weird about the other stuff.”
“It’s pretty cool,” you shrug, spotting the DVD you want and sliding it out to assess the case. “It’s old school. Probably better for the brain. My little brothers can’t really function without an iPad and they’re 5, it’s freaky, like they’re haunted by the capitalist ghost of Steve Jobs or something.”
“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Luke frowns where you almost expect him to laugh, and you spin on your heel to face him. He has this look about him like he should have known that - like the two of you have ever conversed in anything other than sarcastic quips and scrunched up faces, or whatever attempts at flirting have been on his part. 
“Technically they’re half brothers,” you shrug, “They live out in Philly with my dad and step mom, I don’t really get to see them much.”
“Didn’t know you were from Philly, either.”
“I’m not, my dad moved out there when him and my mom got divorced.”
It’s not something you really love talking about. 
The few times you’ve tried, you’ve been shot down, patronising tones scoffing at how your biggest trauma is the separation of your parents, as if your whole world didn’t crumble down with the demise of their relationship, the demise of life as you knew and very dearly loved it.
“You don’t see him even in the summer?”
“Him and his family are on vacation in Europe for 6 weeks. England, France, Spain, Germany, the boys are into soccer so they’ll be out there until the Euros.”
You don’t miss the way Luke’s face scrunches at how you call them his family, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him to start pitying you, so you throw the DVD case toward him before you can second guess your choice.
Interstellar. 
You hope he doesn’t pick up on why it might be one of your favourites. Especially not considering the topic of the conversation at hand. Something about the crippling regret Cooper has for leaving Murph behind plucks harmoniously at some unidentifiable strings deep within you, but you’re hardly about to admit that to Luke, of all people.
“I love this movie,” he smiles, almost surprised, as if he expected you to throw The Notebook his way. Maybe next time - he’d probably love that movie, too, if he gave it a chance. 
“Me too. I love space movies.”
“Like Space Jam?” He asks as he pushes himself up, going toward the TV to set up the movie with the DVD in one hand and the remote control in the other. 
“No, like movies about Space,” you say, throwing yourself down onto the same couch he just vacated and tucking your feet beneath you to get comfortable. “Although I guess Space Jam would technically fit into that bracket.”
“I didn’t realise that was a genre,” he chuckles.
“Not the scary ones, though, I don’t wanna be freaked out by space.”
“Is that like a thing? You just like any movie set in space?”
“I like anything about space, period. Movies, documentaries, books. Thinking about it makes me feel really insignificant.”
“Insignificant? Is that not a bad thing?” He asks as he makes his way back, settling into his side and angling his body toward yours.
“Do you ever think about how big the universe is, Hughes? It’s humongous! If I ever feel anxious or panicky I think about just how big it is and how I’m not even a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. If I’m so tiny, how big can my problems actually be?”
“I guess that makes sense,” he seems to mull it over in his head, the thought of him even considering it and not making you feel stupid warms your chest - makes you forget just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him in the last couple of minutes alone, makes you worry less that you’re sharing too much. “I think I might be the opposite, though. Probably the youngest brother in me, I only feel better if I feel bigger.”
You think that might be why he’s always trying to one up you - sassy comments and inappropriate jokes galore. Not that you mind any of it, not really.
“What about you? What movies do you like?”
“You’re gonna be so shocked.”
“Sports movies?”
“Look at you, knowing me like the back of your hand.” He coos, nudging at your knee with his hand. “I’ll watch anything, though. We should take it in turns, whenever it’s just us,” he says like the thought of spending time alone with you has only just crossed his mind. “Picking a movie to show each other.”
You think there’s a lot of yourself in the media you consume. The movies you watch, the music you listen to, and sharing those things with Luke feels like giving him the only other key to a high security vault. It’s something you’ve avoided so far - letting him play his songs in the car, avoiding making any sort of pick in the group movie nights. It’s daunting, and it’s a lot of pressure, and so you don’t know why you agree with so much ease - a shrug, and a casual muttering of, “Sure, why not?”
The pieces of your dynamic slowly start to slot together, and you start to realise why you’ve been entertaining his company so often, lately. Why your mood so quickly de-escalated itself, earlier. Why you’ve found yourself curled up on the same couch as him, instead of literally anywhere else in the house, doing anything other than this. Why you’re so quick to agree to letting him access all these unseen parts of you.
And why you think he might be able to read your mind, after he asks, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Only if I get to ask one back.”
“What were you gonna do tonight, if you were on your own?”
Thank God, you think, your heart jumping at the thought of anything else he could have asked.
“I was gonna do a sheet mask and steal the bottle of wine Quinn stashed behind the laundry detergent.” You admit with a nonchalant shrug, the plans you had been looking forward to all day seeming mundane in comparison to this. “Why’d you stay behind? You love Zach Bryan.”
“I love sheet masks and stolen wine, too.”
Your lips curve up before you get the chance to huff at his non-answer, and you feel your throat go a little dry at the way his curve, too - the way his green eyes darken when they meet yours, and you feel like he’s looking straight through you.
It’s around half way through the movie that you realise how much you’re enjoying yourself - when you look over at Luke, and the light from the screen is still bouncing off the sticky white sheet plastered to his face, only just able to make out his round eyes through the little slit in the fabric. 
You sip at your wine to hide your smile, and turn your attention back to the TV until Luke nudges at your feet with his, and your eyes meet over the tops of your bent knees. 
“You tell anyone I did this, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Your laugh ripples through every inch of your upper body, rumbling up from your belly and manifesting itself in shaking shoulders, your smile wide and your sheet mask slipping out of place. “You can’t threaten me with a good time, Hughes.”
You spend the rest of the night trying not to think about how there might just be a tiny door in your heart, eking it’s way open for him to squeeze his gangly limbs into.
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>PART TWO<
another a/n: I don't want to put a timeframe on when the next part will be posted bc as soon as I do that, my brain will revolt and it won't happen, but I'd love to know your thoughts in the meantime!!! I have a lot of the rest actually written, and what I don't have written, I have drafted, so it shouldn't be too long but!!! like I said no timeframe!! I've had a lot of fun with this dynamic, and hearing any opinions would mean a lot to me!!
this was my first time writing reader insert if you saw any instances of she/her where they shouldn't be, no you didn’t. I tried as best as I could to avoid using Y/N because it takes me out of it I don’t even remember if I put it anywhere but sometimes it's hard to get around I did my best ok!!!
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kooktrash · 2 years ago
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romantic dreams | jeon jungkook
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summary: he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.
➣ genre/au: yandere jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], neighbors au, smut, angst
➣ 23.9k words
warnings: yandere. smut. jk is obsessed and a stalker. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. he’s a gym rat who listens to deftones, nirvana, korn, pierce the veil, etc. he watches y/n through cameras. delusional jk. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—like genuinely not a good person lol but he has nipple piercings and a six pack. goth jk. calvin klein jk. sort of mind break. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough, passionate sĂ«x. multiple rounds. oral [both recieving]. multiple orgasms. jk is kinda really unhinged at the end. he seems more stable than he is. everyone is so oblivious. unprotected smĂŒt but also only for one round [they go for two]. idk lol he’s just a weird guy who likes black and Nirvana or some shit. y/n is cheated on in previous relationship he’s not dangerous I think
[ teaser ] [ video banner ]
[ drabble ] [smut]
[ drabble ]
[ smut drabble ]
[ birthday drabble ] [ smut ]
song inspo: tempest — deftones, and i love her — kurt cobain, blvd. nights — team sleep, new magic wand — tyler, the creator [highly recommend listening so you can get what kind of character Jungkook is]
jungkook’s moodboard | y/n’s moodboard
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The music was loud yet you couldn’t make out a single word of it. The beat was strong but with the amount of people packed into the nightclub it seemed to blur out all other noise aside from their talk. You could barely see under the hues of green and blue lights shining down on the crowd and the room had a distinct smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke.
On your back was a firm hand that pushed you through the dancing crowds to get you to the bar and you let them take the lead without question. To your side was a friend of yours who flashed a smile, “Don’t worry, you’re going to get so drunk tonight that you forget about him.”
What she’s really saying is if you don’t want to feel then you better start sipping.
It was just 24 hours ago that you sat down in your living room listening to the guy you had been dating for months tell you that he cheated. He cried his eyes out telling you that it didn’t mean anything and that he would never do it again but it was too late. You didn’t shed a single tear until he was out of your house and that’s when you let the angry tears fall, mad that you were too blind to realize what a piece of shit he was.
Now you were in a little green dress feeling like a heartbroken bitch as you ordered two more drinks and tried to pretend like you’re having a good time when you’re not.
Taehyung watched you chug back another drink with a sigh, “But don’t drink too much, you’ll regret it.”
“I don’t care,” you slurred, tone already a bit off and woozy. Jiyoung combed your hair out of your face, “At least you’re still pretty, drunk or not.”
Not pretty enough if you got cheated on. You smiled as she cupped your face squeezing your cheeks, bloodshot eyes that she couldn’t even see under the changing lights.
“I’m gonna go find Hobi,” Taehyung said as he looked around the packed nightclub, “It’s going to take me forever.”
You nodded your head, “Go ahead, I’m gonna get another drink.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Jiyoung asked and you told her yes. She left with a small smile going with Taehyung to find your friend. Your smile slowly fell as you stood at the bar by yourself looking around at dancing pairs and kissing couples.
You took a deep breath trying to calm your racing heart, hands feeling the heat that radiates off your face and blinking hoping to fight off the burn you felt from not crying.
Once you had your drink you disappeared into the large crowd hoping to find the others.
He was fed up being here. He understands why his friends like to come out and drink but frankly he doesn’t care for their excuses to be able to pick up girls. Every single woman who approached him here are just so boring.
Sure, they’re nice to look at but that’s about it. Listening to their squeaky drunk voices and watching the way they try to dance on him is so tiring. He just wants them all to stop but they won’t and he knows it. He’s attractive, he’s somewhat tall, he’s covered in tattoos and he looks so unapproachable that it — for some reason — always attracts women to him. If he was interested in them then maybe he would feel different but most times he’s just bothered by them.
There might be a rare chance that he takes one home but that happens once every blue moon and even then he doesn’t care for their name or to stay with them the full night. He could live his life without wasting a single second flirting with some girl he met at the club.
His intention right now was to quietly sneak away from his friends while they hit on girls he was very unimpressed with and leave. It reeked of alcohol and he preferred not to get drunk and lose his senses tonight.
He was cutting through the crowd doing his best to avoid being pushed or touched but it didn’t seem to matter.
Goosebumps rose on his skin as he hissed at the sudden cold liquid that spilled onto his shoes and jeans. His face hardened as he smelled the stench of liquor and he immediately looked up annoyed to find the person who spilled their drink on him.
“Shit, I am so sorry,” you said in a somewhat shy voice. You looked from your empty cup to his wet pants and boots, “I—I didn’t mean to bump into you, there’s so many people here—fuck.”
His initial instinct was to chew you out, not caring for what or who you were, but then his eyes met yours and his anger immediately melted away. He couldn’t put his finger on why he was suddenly okay with a stranger spilling their Bloody Mary on his thousand dollar Gucci boots. He was too lost in your bloodshot eyes to say anything—until you dropped down to the floor with a hand on his boot acting like you could just wipe it away.
“Wait!” He nearly shouted as he held you by your arm and pulled you back up, “Don’t. It’s fine, the floor’s dirty.”
“No, please, I am so fucking sorry, oh my god,” you said, drunk out of your mind to fully pay attention to what happened. You looked up to him and you seemed to take a step back in surprise. He was an extremely good looking guy and you’ve just embarrassed yourself in front of him
 yet he smiled sweetly instead of yell at you. Will you even remember this moment?
“I’ll just clean them, it’s alright, don’t even worry about it, okay?”
Not fully thinking clearly, you gasped as a sudden idea came to mind, “I’ll go get towels! I’ll um—j-just, y’know wait right here.”
He could hear it in your voice that you maybe drank too much. He looked around to see if a friend of yours might’ve been around watching but he found no one looking in this direction. You were practically running off and it would be a perfect chance to escape another drunk who threw themselves at him but he found himself going after you instead.
The hall toward the restrooms was poorly lit and people lined the walls waiting to go in but that didn’t stop him from cutting through so he could be close enough for you to find him. You were an interesting character.
He could feel some eyes on him but he ignored them easily, choosing instead to smile softly when you stumbled out of the restroom with a handful of paper towels. He reached a hand out to get them but once again you tried getting down to clean his shoes up yourself that it made him laugh lightly. He helped you back up with a hand on your back to keep you from swaying or getting down again—whichever comes first, “I got it.”
You stood back watching him clean his shoes and soak up some of the alcohol from his jeans. You debated if you should leave but when he looked up from his leant over position to see if you were still there, you stayed. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he smiled a genuine smile as he threw the paper towels away in the nearest bin, “Let’s get you another drink.”
“No, I’m done drinking for tonight,” you told him but you left out the part about you already feeling too numb for it, “I’ve already made a fool of myself.” You covered your face behind your hands and he couldn’t help but feel a rush of butterflies in his stomach.
“Don’t say that, it was cute,” he said confidently with a shrug of his shoulders, “Charming even
 do you dance?”
“Huh?” You looked at him confused, “Uh, yeah.”
He smiled widely as he began to walk away from you, walking backwards to the dancing crowd, “Then make up spilling your drink on me with a dance?”
You bit your lip and narrowed your eyes as you studied him. You looked around as if in search for your friends but they were busy and you were heartbroken and drunk, and agreeing with a nod of your head. You took his outstretched hand and went with him.
“Where’d Y/n go?”
“Um,” Jiyoung looked around, “Good question, I thought she was getting another drink.”
“Well she’s not at the bar,” Hoseok said with a sigh, “Let’s look for her so we can get out of here finally.”
Your arms were around the stranger’s neck and his were wrapped around your waist keeping you pressed against him as you danced sensually together. You played with the ends of his hair as he looked down at you with an intense gaze, “What’s your name?”
“Y/n,” you said with a light gasp as his head dipped down to hear you better, making you whisper it into his ear. His eyes closed as he felt your face brush against his and he was turning his head slightly to bring his lips closer, “I’m Jungkook.”
You blame the alcohol and the fact that the guy smelled really good for your next actions. It didn’t help that you were still very upset about being cheated on and you weren’t thinking clearly, only looking to feel something else than what you felt right now. So, in your drunken state, you turned your head letting your lips brush against his testing the water out and as he held you tightly, he pressed a kiss to them.
Jungkook released a low moan into your mouth when you kissed him back in need and he found it hard to keep his hands from roaming down your body in your pretty forest green dress. Your tongue swiped along his lip ring making his hands grip the sheer fabric to make sure you didn’t back away before he was done. You were curious about the cold metal and kissed him with a bit of intensity that you seemed to forget where you were or who you were with.
In need of air, you pulled back with your hands slowly slipping away from his neck trying to process the fact that you kissed a stranger without a care in the world.
“Y/n! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
You jumped back startled as you turned around in search for the feminine voice. You looked at Jiyoung who sighed, “We’re leaving, are you ready?”
It was hard to get a good view on Jungkook with how poor the lighting was and how dark his clothes were. He was biting his lip ring as he watched you get dragged away and before he could pull you back to him in hopes of getting your number, you were leaving like he wasn’t even there.
Like you forgot about him already.
There was a quickening pace to his heart. Sweat dripped down his forehead that he wiped away with his forearm as he looked at his friend through the mirrored wall. Just behind them he had a clear view of some woman looking at them. His friend noticed her too, “She’s had her eye on you for a while now.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he switched with Namjoon and laid down. Namjoon made sure to spot him as he began to bench press, muscles bulging with each set he did.
“I’m serious, man, and she’s hot,” Namjoon looked behind him to catch the girl running on the treadmill as her gaze shifted shyly at being caught. He was getting a little pissed that his friend does not care that he’s being eye fucked at the gym.
This was just like Jungkook too, he never showed any sight of interest in anything. He always had a bored expression on his face like he was waiting for something worth his while to happen. Namjoon’s learned to get over it because if Jungkook didn’t like hanging out with him then they wouldn’t be friends. Jungkook isn’t the type to waste his breath reassuring things like that and he definitely does not waste his time thinking of someone.
If Namjoon got half as many women checking him out as Jungkook does, he would find a girlfriend in no time—but no, he has to stand to his side and watch his friend pay absolutely no attention to any woman who expressed even the slightest hint of interest in him. Maybe he has to applaud Jungkook for this, he seems to have standards and sticks to them because in their years long friendship he’s only met one of his girlfriend’s before. He was extremely private about his sex life too so they never shared any locker room talk and Namjoon has just learned that’s how he is.
“Should we do one more?” Jungkook asked as he placed the dumbbell back into its holders and sat up panting. He looked behind him just slightly and caught sight of the bleached blond on the treadmill. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him since she got here and it’s really starting to piss him off.
“Sure,” Namjoon said, switching Jungkook, “I don’t get how you seem to just ignore every woman who looks at you.”
Jungkook looked down at him as Namjoon caught a good grip on the dumbbell, “I wouldn’t disrespect the person I’m seeing by entertaining someone else.”
Namjoon nearly dropped the dumbbell on himself as he jumped up to a sitting position and looked at his friend dumbfounded, “You’re seeing someone?”
That made the corners of Jungkook’s lips turn upward and he tried to bite back a smile, his dimples still showed. Namjoon was no longer sitting and it seemed like the end of their workout so he began to clean the equipment. Jungkook cleared his throat, “Sort of.”
Wordlessly, they began to leave toward the locker room and Jungkook walked right past the blond without sparing her a single glance. He smiled, “Y/n.”
“Huh?” Namjoon asked, “Is that who you’re sort of seeing?”
“Mhm,” Jungkook nodded with a smile that had Namjoon surprised. He very rarely sees this much emotion from Jungkook and compared to his usual cool exterior, this was a bit unsettling. The two went straight for their lockers as they took their gym bags out and got ready to leave. Namjoon cleared his throat, “Do you have a picture? I need a visual of who this person is.”
It was just so sudden after he had these thoughts of how Jungkook showed absolutely no interest in anyone and kept his sex life extremely private. Namjoon always thought it was just because he was a womanizer and didn’t feel like bragging about all the women he’s seeing. It is just surprising that all of a sudden Jungkook would show so much emotion bringing someone up.
Jungkook didn’t give him an answer aside from fishing his phone out of his pocket and immediately showing him his lock screen. Namjoon looked at the picture clearly.
“Wow,” Namjoon said with, “Now I see why you don’t bat an eye at anyone else.”
It was a good candid photo of you, like you didn’t even know it was being taken. You were sitting outside having dinner and it was a perfect snapshot of your smile. You were looking at something off camera but Namjoon did have to admit that you were very attractive.
He missed the way Jungkook’s eyes darkened the longer Namjoon looked at your picture and decided to lock his phone and put it away, “Ready?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon said as he grabbed his car keys while Jungkook grabbed his and his helmet, “So why haven’t I met this Y/n, yet?”
Look, he knows that the two of you aren’t dating yet, he’s not that crazy, but it’ll happen soon and he has a very strong reason to back it. Jungkook wasn’t smiling anymore but Namjoon couldn’t see it as he walked behind him, “You know I like things kept private.”
“I mean yeah but
 I don’t know, you’ve never brought her up before. When did you start seeing her?” Namjoon asked just trying to have a casual conversation with Jungkook before they split up.
“I said sort of.”
“What?”
“Earlier you asked me if I was seeing Y/n and I said sort of,” Jungkook said with a tightened smile, “No need to bring anyone around yet.”
Namjoon didn’t have a chance to say much after that, Jungkook got on his motorcycle and left with a little wave. This felt like news of the century, Jungkook very rarely smiles the way he smiled when he first brought you up.
Look, he knows that the two of you aren’t dating yet, he’s not that crazy, but it’ll happen soon and he has a very strong reason to back it.
Who were you exactly?
You took a deep breath as you unlocked your front door and walked into a pitch black apartment. The light flickered on behind you and a small cat curled around your legs the second you were inside.
“Armani!” Your friend said with a soft gasp as he bent down to pick up the feline. Your cat let Taehyung pick him up and walk him around your living room as you put your things away.
“Looks like your neighbor’s home,” Taehyung pointed out as he stood near the window of your apartment swatting away hanging plants. Armani hopped out of his arms and onto his scratching post where he usually lounged in for naps or ripping at your Tillandsia. “You think he watches you sleep?”
“Shut up,” you told him with a roll of your eyes, “Do you want a drink?”
“Water” Taehyung asked with a cheeky grin before looking back to the window, “And you know I’m joking
 I’m just saying though, he always has his curtains drawn and sometimes I catch him looking over here.”
“All that’s telling me is that I need to stop inviting you over,” you said as you grabbed a bottle of Soju and a bowl of chips. You couldn’t help but look out your window.
Your neighbor was an attractive man. He had a sleeve of tattoos and a broad chest, a six pack and
 nipple piercings. It’s not that you’re a creep or anything but he likes to lounge around his living room and bedroom without a shirt on and his curtains open. Sometimes he would step out of the shower with only a towel around his small waist as he looked for clothes in his bedroom and you would have to immediately close your curtains so you weren’t a peeping Tom.
He moved in a few weeks ago and since then you’ve found yourself battling over the fact that you’ll never attract a man as gorgeous as him no matter what Taehyung says. Since the beginning Taehyung has believed that your neighbor seems to have a liking toward you. If you were honest, when you first saw him there was something familiar there but as hard as you tried, you couldn’t put your finger on it.
Your best friend is over at your place more often than not and he’s noticed some things. For instance, the day he moved in Taehyung was over and like the nosy neighbor you were, the two of you stared out the window and watched him unload boxes. Taehyung swears he saw a look in your neighbor’s eyes when he looked at you that immediately disappeared when he saw he was there too.
Then, there was that time when you were having dinner with your friends. Taehyung pointed out seeing your neighbor and how close he was sitting outside and you just brushed it off. He lives in your neighborhood now, that meant that he most likely frequented the same restaurants as you. He notes every time your neighbor seems to glance out the window toward your place but you don’t think anything of it. These apartments have poor lighting and the only way you get natural light is by having the windows open. In truth, Taehyung has watched way too many true crime documentaries and has gotten a bit paranoid.
“Whatever,” Taehyung sighed, “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt you to give him a little show and see if you’ll get laid.”
That only seemed to annoy you a little more. You’ve been single for weeks now and yes, you’re over being upset but that doesn’t mean you want to jump right out and find someone new to bone. Jiyoung has already done a good job reminding you about the guy she found you making out with weeks ago.
It’s sad to say you can’t remember him because you were drunk and maybe he forgot all about you too. Shame, he was a good kisser.
It only took you a couple days to see the man up close. You had just gotten home from work when you spotted an Amazon box outside the door of your building. Your original plan was to just walk past it but then you thought about the act of karma. You read the address hoping to at least put it inside the building but it wasn’t the right one. You lived in an apartment complex with six separate buildings and this was supposed to go next door.
You thought about leaving it outside like the delivery driver did but then you thought about it being your package and if someone were to take it. In the end you decided to head next door and deliver to the person’s doorstep.
The one thing you hadn’t expected was for the said person to open the door just as you’re setting the box down, and you much less expected it to be your window neighbor.
Your eyes couldn’t help but trail along his figure from the black jeans he wore to the black boots, belt, and a dark gray Nirvana shirt. You didn’t fail to notice the way his t-shirt was a little too short and exposed a bit of his Calvin Klein’s and a line of his tiny waist for your viewing. Thick leather bracelets on his wrists as he crossed his arms over his chest. Even his hair was voluminous and a bit curly and you were very attracted to the sight of this stranger.
Rock music played behind him as he leaned against his doorframe.
He looked down at you with an arched brow that had you snapping out of your stare. You stood back up with the box and held it toward him, “This was delivered to the building next door and I didn’t want someone to take it.”
“Oh,” he said as he looked down at the box, the corner of his lips turned up shifting his gaze back to you. You could see a black lip ring and a few silver ones aligning his ear. Up close you’re able to see all the details you’ve missed from your window and he really did look familiar. He finally took the box out of your hands, fingers over yours and he broke out into a smile, “You live next door.”
It wasn’t a question, more so a statement but you nodded away. You looked around, “I do.”
“I’ve seen you before,” he said, “You’re on the third floor?”
What Jungkook really wanted to say was that he remembered your lips against his kissing him like you needed him. He didn’t say that though, he can tell you might not remember him and he doesn’t blame you. You seemed to be a little flustered that night and he’s sure he’ll help you remember him when the time’s right. You’re meant for each other after all.
He realized that the second he moved in—it was all by pure chance and yet it felt like the universe was telling him you were his person. Why else would things work out this way? Once he found you looking down at him from your window, he knew it was meant to be. You made his heart race at a time where he had just felt annoyed and then you kissed him so warmly, there’s no way you two weren’t supposed to find each other.
“Yeah, I’ve been living there for over a year,” you said, already taking a step back like you were ready to go.
He smiled, “I just moved in a couple weeks ago.”
You nodded, “Oh, that’s nice. I'm Y/n L/n.”
Jungkook felt his chest tighten. He knew the two of you haven’t interacted since then but he had really hoped you would have recognized him up close. He understands that it was a while ago and you were both drunk but he remembers everything about you. He still tried to smile even if he felt annoyed that you couldn’t remember a single thing about him, “Jungkook.”
You watched the way his gaze never left yours as you tried walking away, before you could go he said, “Well thanks for bringing this up to me Y/n, maybe I’ll see you around?”
In your eyes, you both knew of each other but it was simply for being neighbors and nothing more. There’s been too many times where your eyes have met from 40 feet off the ground through your windows. There’s no way you wouldn’t at least remember each other’s silhouette.
Yet you couldn’t remember the first time you two met for the life of you. As far as you knew, this is the first time you’ve ever seen him this close and you can’t understand why you’re getting flustered.
“Have a good night, Jungkook,” You finally nodded your head in response to his words and with a small smile you made your leave. Jungkook watched you until you disappeared into the elevator. His heart was racing, he clutched the box tightly as a smile came to his face.
A light chuckle left his lips as he went into the apartment, setting the box down on his dining table. He just can’t believe his plan worked. He timed your arrivals for days and when he knew you would be getting home soon he left his most recent package in front of your building. To be Frank, he thought it was stupid to assume you would think anything about it but he had hoped maybe you would confuse it with one you ordered. He had prayed that you would see it was his and maybe get a little curious of the name but you did even better than he imagined. You delivered it to him. After an hour of pacing back and forth in his living room he finally heard his ring camera notify him that someone was at his door and that’s when his heart started to race.
He opens the door to see you up close for the first time ever. He wasn’t watching you from his window or following you to the convenience store. He was actually seeing you face to face and you looked prettier than you did the night he met you. That’s the time he fell in love, it was truly love at first sight and he knows that you must’ve felt it too. You were so cute and caring and clumsy, and you kissed him like you never wanted to pull away.
If only you knew the horrible pain he felt after you left him that night. All he could say is his friends definitely didn’t like the side of him that was shown following that day. He tried finding you on social media but with only your first name that had been so hard. When he saw you from your window he knew right away it was you and he swears he’s never felt so relieved to know he was seeing you again. Once again, the universe was sending signs of his soulmate.
It didn’t take him long to try and find a way to know more about you after moving in. He spent days studying the apartment floor plans and by the fourth day he was following someone into your building and looking at the map picture on his phone, smiling because they were identical. He learned that because your apartments faced each other that it could help him find exactly what number you had and when he found it, he went straight to the mailing room. He found your apartment number and right there taped on the metal was your full name.
He can’t believe that his patience seemed to have worked. You came right to him and he got to hear your pretty voice up close again. He smiled lovingly at the memory of your first kiss and how many more are to come, nose scrunching up like a bunny’s as he finally began to tear into his package.
In the pocket of his black jeans his phone began to ring and he took it out to answer without sparing a single glance at the caller as he pressed it between his ear and shoulder, “Hello?”
“Kook, hey man, what are you doing right now?” Namjoon asked through the cell phone as his Uber came to a stop at a red light.
“Just at home,” Jungkook mumbled, not fully listening to his friend as he looked at the small security camera in his hand. His eyes moved to skim the instructions while Namjoon spoke up again.
“I’m meeting up with Yoongi for some drinks and I wanted to know if you wanted to join us,” Namjoon said before with a smile.
“Uh, yeah, I’m busy right now,” Jungkook said with dazed eyes that made it obvious that he was drifting off into his own world as he made his way through his closet to find some sort of adhesive tape. He even sounded like he was in a different reality.
Namjoon’s smile grew wider, “With your girl?”
Jungkook opened his bedroom window and reached for his potted plant to move it out of his way. It took him a while to utter out a response, “Sort of?” He stuck the black camera against the side of his black window box and put the potted plants back inside it so he could see what it looked like.
“I mean you can bring her along,” Namjoon said as his Uber stopped in front of the bar and he began to get out.
“Maybe,” Jungkook muttered under his breath as he concentrated on opening the app connected to the camera and typing in whatever he needed to to be able to access the footage.
“Alright call me later if you’re up for it.”
Jungkook barely hummed a goodbye as Namjoon hung up and finally got off speaker. He wasn’t paying attention anyways.
He has two options now that his friend has called him with plans tonight.
One: He can go out and get drunk with his friends, probably go to some night club and suffer through some ugly drunk woman throwing herself at him while he pretends to be interested in anything she says.
Or.
Two: He can stay home tonight, dim the lights, play Tempest by Deftones and watch video footage of your bedroom that he now had thanks to the package you delivered to him.
He just has to go with option two.
You were ashamed to admit that you think you might have a little crush on your neighbor. He just felt so familiar. Nothing about him looked inviting, he seemed aloof and a bit mysterious but he pulled it off so well—and with that charming smile of his
 you’ve never seen a girl over at his place but you’re sure there’s dozens waiting for a chance with him.
Taehyung is the one to blame for this technically. Since the beginning he’s gotten it through your head that your neighbor must at least be curious about you to always look at you through the windows. You know that it could seem a bit creepy to know that but were you any better when you glance over and see him shirtless through his window? It’s starting to really get to your head and the fact that he was very attractive made it hard for you to not get a little giddy just thinking about him being interested in you in the slightest. You’re sure that’s not the case but it wouldn’t hurt to dream.
Also, you think the world is playing a sick joke on you or why else would he be standing in an aisle over in the same convenience store as you? The Baader-Meinhof phenomenon is to blame, now that you’ve seen him up close it’s like you’re seeing him everywhere in the neighborhood.
Jungkook was the first to make a move, he closed the space between you as he headed down your aisle while you pretended to be stuck choosing between different snack foods. He couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, “Y/n?”
“Jungkook,” you greeted him as your eyes met.
“I thought it was you,” Jungkook said with a gentle smile as he switched the hand that was holding his shopping basket while looking down at yours, “Doing some grocery shopping?”
“Kind of,” you mumbled, “I’m just buying a few things until I have time to shop this week, what about you?”
“Same,” Jungkook said as he looked at you, “Have any plans? It’s the weekend.”
“I don’t know, I’ll probably just be home until plans come calling,” you said with a soft laugh that made his heart beat a little faster. He’s never heard your laugh before and he needs to hear it again.
“Well, can I come calling tonight?” Jungkook asked confidently, “Let’s get a drink later.”
“Tonight?” You asked, making your way to the checkout line with him hot on your trail.
Listen, you are attracted to this stranger but you’re not so sure there’s more to it than just that. Sure, you think he’s attractive and were just feeling giddy over him thinking the same about you but
. you don’t know. You just got out of a relationship a few weeks ago and you thought some time to yourself would be nice, yet you keep seeing this guy everywhere like some sort of destiny prank and it’s getting to your head. This is your problem, you tell yourself you want to enjoy being single but then you make up all these crazy excuses so that you could find yourself the next guy.
“Alright,” you finally said, walking toward the check out line. He smiled widely now, “Perfect, I’ll drive.”
“What time?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear as the cashier began to scan your items.
“I’m not sure yet, how about I text you?” Jungkook asked getting his phone out. You didn’t think much of it as you gave him your number and he immediately called you to confirm but he smiled, “Now you have mine too. Want me to drive you home?”
“I have one more stop after here but thank you, I’ll see you tonight?” you told him shyly. You left after paying and with a goodbye.
Jungkook’s smile instantly dropped when he could no longer see you through the windows of the store. He barely made out the voice of the cashier telling him his total and he threw a crumpled up bill on the counter, ignoring her outstretched hand, and took his bags, turning to leave without his change or receipt.
He bumped into someone hard as he left the store but he never once stopped and headed straight down the street in the direction you left.
In the end Jungkook walked back to his work like he hadn’t been gone for nearly an hour. When he checked the camera earlier he saw you getting dressed to leave—and like the gentleman he was, he didn’t stare too long. Of course he couldn’t help but watch just a little bit and see the way you seemed to caress your legs as you slid on a long fitted black skirt covering your bare hips and lacy underwear. It made his heart race when you took your shirt off and he knew that it was time he stopped watching at least for a little. You grabbed your bag off the hook, filled your cat’s bowl and headed out.
He’s been studying up on your usual departures. You don’t really go anywhere new, it’s usually a cycle of work, home, the store, and to meet your friends. Considering the time he had chosen and the area in which the two of you lived, all he had to do was wait around and see if he could find you walking somewhere on the sidewalk. When he finally did spot you walking toward the convenience store around the corner he practically ran right over.
Clearly he’s made all the right decisions to get to ask you on a date tonight. He won’t watch you this evening, he’ll give you some privacy to dress pretty for him like he’s sure you’ll do and it’ll just be a nice surprise.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: how does 8pm sound? —jungkook
you: sounds good :)
jungkook: alright, I’ll wait outside for you
When you got home, you immediately got ready with a shower. You know it wasn’t a date or anything but he was attractive and you would be going out so there’s no way you could go dressed the way you were.
You finally had your curtains closed after beating yourself up for forgetting to do that before you left to the store and immediately thought about Taehyung getting you in trouble for it.
And apparently just the thought of your friend was enough to summon him to call you.
“Hello?” You answered the FaceTime call, noting that there was a third person present.
“Hello baby!” Hoseok shouted over enthusiastically as he gushed at you through the screen, “I’ve missed you.”
“Hi Hobi, are you back?” You asked as you set the phone up against the mirror while you touched up on your appearance.
“He just got back and we want to get drunk, so are you coming over or what?” Taehyung asked as his eyes squinted, best friend senses tingling, “Where are you going?”
“Um
 you know, I have plans,” you said awkwardly making him look you up and down and what you wore.
“With who?”
“Uh
” you scratched the back of your neck, “A guy?”
“You’re cheating on me, you bitch?” Hoseok jokes, making you crack a smile. Hoseok was older but he was the funny one and for years now there’s been a running joke between you two. He huffed, “You’re not supposed to date. We’re supposed to get married when we turn 30.”
“First of all, you’re damn near 30 already,” you rolled your eyes, “And our agreement was if we weren’t engaged by then we would get married.”
“Stop changing the subject. Who’s the guy?” Taehyung asked with a small smirk that told you he already had an idea. You just had to tell him about your run in with the neighbor the other day. You didn’t say anything because he already knew.
“Alright, alright, I get it. Go enjoy your black eyeliner boyfriend and we’ll get drunk on our own.”
“Who are we talking about?”
Jungkook was not ashamed to admit he had been waiting for you since he got home. He did hurry and get dressed but he had been ready early on. When you texted him telling him you were coming down he nearly jumped out of his car to greet you and he felt an insane amount of butterflies in his stomach. You were dressed simply but at the same time it was clear to him that you put in the effort all for him. Your skirt hugged your curves perfectly and your shirt gave him a good idea of what was underneath—even if he’s practically seen you nude through the windows. You reminded him of spring and it wasn’t just because of the earthy tones you wore.
“You look lovely,” Jungkook said as he placed a hand on your lower back assisting you into the passenger’s side of his black Porsche. You blushed at his words and took in the scent of his car. It smelled of his cologne but it wasn’t overbearing like most colognes, it was familiar. It’s soft yet masculine and exactly what you pictured he would use.
When he started the car up, a familiar song began to play, Something In the Way by Nirvana played lowly so it wasn’t overwhelming for your ears. You smiled, “You must like this kind of music a lot. I always see you in band tees”
He smiled but his eyes drifted down to his hands that clutched the steering wheel tightly so they wouldn’t shake with anxiety, “I do, it’s perfect for the gym.”
Jungkook was very pleased to know you took note of his interests, it meant that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. He can list off a lot of things he’s learned about you throughout the week. Just from your socials he can tell where you’ve vacationed, cafes you frequent at, your favorite books or movies, etc.
From watching you through your windows he knows that you read a book on the window seat in your bedroom. You like to keep your green plants in the living room and your cat tends to pull off some leaves before running off when he sees you. He knows you can barely cook—he’s seen you running to turn off the fire alarm after you tried cooking. He knows that when you’re alone in your bedroom at night you like to listen to music loud and dance in front of the mirror when you think no one’s watching. He’s even seen you fight your cat over him eating another one of your plants. He knows all of this thanks to his cameras. He can keep his curtains closed to not raise suspicion but that doesn’t mean he can’t see you.
He thinks it’s kind of cute how oblivious you are, it works in his favor even now.
You knew he worked out just by looking at him but for the sake of conversation you asked, “How often do you work out?”
“Twice.”
“A week?”
“A day,” Jungkook looked at you for a split second, “Once in the morning and then usually after work too.”
“Fuck, that’s a lot,” you laughed softly, “I can see why you’re so toned.”
Jungkook bit his lip playing with his lip ring, “Nice to know you’ve noticed, but how? You’ve never seen me without a shirt, have you?”
He knows you have, he’s very purposely walked around shirtless for your viewing specifically. You released a nervous chuckle, “I mean
 just from what I can see.”
“Mm,” he hummed as he tried and failed to bite back a smile. He just couldn’t help it. You’re in his car on the way to a date with him. He’s been dreaming about this night after all, imagining what it would be like to wake up next to you with you in his arms. He’s dreamt about the way you laugh at his jokes, how your shampoo smells, what you look like fresh out the shower. It feels like all he does is think about you and he knows it’s because he’s found the one he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. Ever since that first night at the club he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Was that normal?
He knows he shouldn’t put cameras up to spy on you or follow you around but he just wants to know where you’re going. He doesn’t want something to happen to you and he has no way of knowing. If he could just know your every step he’s sure that’ll make him feel more at ease.
When he finally parked and the two of you got out of the car you could see where he brought you. You had expected it to be some loud night club or something but it was actually a seemingly quiet lounge bar. There weren’t that many people here and the ones that were seemed to come from money and the dim lights with quiet soft rock music playing in the background told you this wasn’t his first time here. It was an intimate environment filled with quiet conversations and sneaky touches. You found a high round table and with Jungkook’s help, you got on the high stool and watched him pull his chair closer to yours—so close his thigh bumped into yours on occasion.
“What would you like to drink?” Jungkook asked with a hand on your thigh as if to get your attention. He seemed to fit into the environment better than you did. He switched out his normal band tee for a plain black fitted tee that quite literally hugged the ridges of his muscles, even with the dark color you could make out the shape of his bar nipple piercings. The shirt was tucked into a pair of blacks jeans with a leather belt that matched his signature leather bracelets that were on his wrists. The only things different were the silver chained bracelets and chunky rings that fit well with his tatted fingers and matched the silver chains around his neck and piercings in his ears. He had an intricate silver cross with small red jewels on a necklace and his hair had a slick look that made the waves and curls look wet.
He was quite literally breathtaking and unlike the guys you usually went for.
“Surprise me,” you said and he nodded leaving you alone with a pat on your thigh. In order to not look awkward by yourself, you checked your phone, half tempted to pull out your essential oils and roll on some lavender.
Some rock song played quietly in the background as people talked around you enjoying the dark and warm atmospheric of the lounge bar.
hobi: how’s the mystery gang
you: the who?
jiyoung: don’t ever call us that shit again
taehyung: look who finally came out of the trenches
you: jiyounggggggg I missed u
jiyoung: y/nnnn I love u
jiyoung: are u coming to Tae’s?
hobi: y/n’s got a date with some stalker
you: WHO TOLD U THAT
taehyung: me and i was kidding
jiyoung: no u weren’t
hobi: no u weren’t
you: whatever. I gotta go
jiyoung: I hope u get laid
you: why is everyone saying that
taehyung: bc u need it <3
you: scatter. all of u
Jungkook came back with a cocktail for you and when he sat down his chair inched just a little closer to yours as he said, “So
Y/n
”
“So
 Jungkook
” you said back to him and he swore he could hear his name fall from your lips for the rest of his life. He smiled, “Tell me about yourself, what do you do for a living?”
You own a shop that just opened up a year ago, what you mostly sell are house plants and sometimes you take Armani with to bring customers in with his Prince-like features—that’s what a review on your business page said anyway.
“I own a plant shop, you?” You asked shifting in your seat a bit when his thigh pressed against yours. With the way you were sitting facing each other, your legs were practically trapped between his. He licked his lips, “I’ll give you a hint.”
You nodded waiting and finally he pointed to the smiley face on his fingers. Your brows scrunched together in concentration and he thought it was the cutest thing in the world making him scrunch his nose like a bunny with a smile and it completely betrayed his dark exterior. You bit your lip, “Tattoos?”
“Mhm,” he hummed as the hand with the tattoos found its way down to your thigh again, it looked huge on you and he held you like you would get up and run away from him, “So tell me.”
You lifted a brow waiting and he smiled, “What kind of flowers do you get a girl that knows so much about them?”
You released a sigh in thought. He clearly meant you and if he didn’t this would be embarrassing but you said, “Personally I think Baby’s Breath. It could mean a lot of different things from undying love to pureness and freedom. It’s simple yet pretty.”
He nodded seriously like he was really thinking about what you said, “Not a rose?” He had to figure out exactly what you like and dislike.
“Too clichĂ©,” you joked with a little laugh and he smiled, “I mean, Baby’s Breath are common too but I still think they’re better.”
“I thought you would think they’re romantic,” Jungkook said, thumb now softly caressing the side of your thigh. You shook your head no, “Maybe but I like the unexpected a little more.”
“Unexpected how?” He asked looking down at his hand and your leg curiously. He needs to know absolutely everything he can about you. Every second he spends with you the more he realizes he’s found the one. There’s no other way to describe what he’s felt for you since he first ever laid eyes on you.
You sighed, your index finger began to absentmindedly trace the rings on his fingers while he touched your thigh with the same hand, “I don’t know, I’m just tired of the same shit in relationships, y’know what I mean? I want something new, exciting
 maybe a little intense? I don’t know, ignore me I might just sound crazy.”
You were speaking out of your ass and you knew it. Sure, you are sick and tired of the same assholes thinking they can just do whatever they want with you but you’re not in search of nothing new right now. You don’t want a relationship at this moment, you just want to have fun, maybe hook up with someone and move on.
“You don’t,” Jungkook breathed out as he leaned just a little closer, taking a small whiff of your shampoo. You were actually a little surprised by his growing proximity but you’re beginning to realize just how attracted you might be to him after just one meeting. In a low whisper he sighed, “I want the same thing.”
Your eyes widened slightly as he dropped his head down so his forehead was against your collarbone and though usually you would be immediately turned off by a man this forward, his touch felt good.
“Looks like you’ve dressed up for me Jungkook, I’m used to seeing you in some black tee,” you said in hopes of easing some of this growing sexual tension but it was no use. Jungkook’s other hand had made its way into your hair making you look at him. He smiled, “Didn’t know you were paying that much attention to me. How do you know how I dress on the regular?”
Yikes.
“Uh, you know
 our windows actually—“ he cut you off with a soft laugh.
“Y/n, I’ve got a confession.”
You looked at him with furrowed brows, confusion and curiosity evident on your face. His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip nervously, “We’ve met before.”
Jungkook studied your expression to see if maybe you were remembering a little but you just stared at him blankly, “Before I moved in next door, we met at a club.”
A club? You asked yourself trying to find something in him that you might’ve missed and when it hit you your face flushed with embarrassment. You looked at him longer, pieces of your memory slowly coming back together and he sat there patiently.
You had been drunk, probably the drunkest you had been in a while.
You were mad and sad, maybe a little numb too.
You could barely see inside that place and couldn’t remember most of your conversations. You only knew that you had kissed someone because Jiyoung told you but to know it was Jungkook? Now that’s a huge coincidence.
“Wow,” you said at a loss for words. The memory was coming back to you but you felt insanely guilty for not realizing it earlier. No wonder he stared at you all the time, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
Jungkook released a light laugh, “Because I was hoping you would remember on your own, we did kiss after all.”
You covered your face with your hand in embarrassment, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even
 wow, I knew you looked familiar.”
He smiled warmly, “It’s alright.”
“What a coincidence, honestly.”
“I know,” Jungkook said, “Funny isn’t it? It’s like the universe keeps throwing us together.”
You laughed at that, “I don’t really believe in destiny but it is pretty interesting that all of a sudden we keep running into each other.”
His smile dropped and the hand he had in your hair became limp, “Y/n, how could you not believe in destiny? How do you think you’ll find your soulmate?”
“Soulmate?” You scoffed, unaware of the way his hands slowly withdrew from you, “Jungkook, don’t tell me you honestly believe in that soulmate bullshit? Do you think there’s just one person in this whole wide world destined for you only?”
“I do.”
“But how do you know who that person is?” You asked, switching places with him and combing your fingers through his hair which did seem to ease him a bit. His eyes were stone cold as he looked into yours, “You just know.”
“Well I don’t believe that,” you cleared your throat and looked away. The night has gone great but you don’t care much for this conversation. It didn’t take you long to notice the way he grew quiet and stared off like he was in his own world. You must’ve said something that upset him and in fear that you were already fucking up a seemingly good night out with your anti romantic antics, you curled a hand around his jaw and made him look up at you.
Jungkook was very visibly upset and you never knew a man could look so hurt over what you just said. He looked like a child who has just had his dreams crushed despite all the tattoos and piercings he wore. You smiled softly, “What do I have to say to get you to kiss me?”
You were being forward and a clear flirt and if Jungkook wasn’t so upset with you he would have probably melted in his seat but all he could think about is how often you’ve asked that to someone. He couldn’t get past what you said because it was a lie.
Soulmates did exist and he has to prove it to you that you’re his. Why else would his skin grow numb with your touch?
He gave up on telling himself he wasn’t happy right now and leaned closer again. Under the dim lights and music playing in the background it was hard not to feel this way in this atmosphere so he let his lips brush against yours while still debating. He had to be gentle.
Finally, without much debate, he pressed his lips against yours with a low whimper as you kissed him back. Jungkook’s nails dug into your thigh but not enough to hurt and with your hand on his jaw the two of you looked a bit too sexually charged for the lounge bar. It didn’t stop you from letting your tongue meet his as he took ownership of your mouth and nearly yanked your chair closer. Your hands landed on his chest for support but he only kissed you harder this time.
A sudden noise at your table made you jump back, biting his lip softly and it only made him groan in pleasure, chasing after your lips as you attempted to draw back. Your eyes opened watching the hostess carried your empty glasses away and you know she did that to make sure the two of you kept it PG and with a sense of embarrassment, you pulled away. Jungkook didn’t catch on or care as he began to kiss along your jaw if he couldn’t kiss your lips. Your mouth fell open when he nipped on your earlobe and you shyly glanced around the lounge praying nobody was watching.
“Jungkook,” you patted his shoulder to get him to move back but he only kissed further down, nearly at your exposed cleavage. Feeling flustered, you yanked at his hair in hopes that would get him to listen and it did but there was no denying that lust filled gaze in his eyes as he tugged his lip piercing between his teeth.
He’s nearly forgotten how fucking rude you were to him and his beliefs.
“Hm,” he hummed, searching your face for any sign that you wanted him to kiss you again.
“I think we should watch what we do in public,” you whispered shyly.
He licked his lips, “Should we get out of here then?”
You took yourself by surprise when you nodded your head despite knowing exactly what he meant by that. You wouldn’t usually do anything—not even a kiss—on the first meeting but right now you can’t deny that he seems to be hungry for you and though you don’t know why, you want him anyway.
It was all it took for him to grab you by the hand and help you off the high chair.
In the car you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, just trying to get Jungkook to drive off already was difficult with the way the two of you made out in his tinted car. He was half tempted to direct you over his lap and just do it in the car but that was just him being impatient. He needed to feel and see all of you, so with a low displeased grunt he pulled back ignoring the line of drool that connected your lips together as you drew back. Jungkook’s mouth was swollen and covered in lip gloss that he licked off as he started his car.
Just before taking off he made sure to lean across the middle console for one last kiss.
Now that you’ve kissed him you’re ashamed to admit how clear you remember the night of the club now. He really was the same guy and it’s shitty to say you only remember now that he’s told you.
Jungkook drove the familiar route to your shared apartment complex but instead of going to building five, he went to building six where his apartment was. He led you up an identical pair of stairs to an identical elevator and up an identical floor. He hurried to unlock his door looking behind him as if to make sure you were still around and as the door opened a large, skinny black dog came running over. Jungkook shushed him gently, flashing you a shy smile that you’ve never seen before, “I have to take him out real quick, down the hall to the right is my room.”
You nodded in understanding as you watched him leave with the dog and you followed directions. You were just a little tipsy but not like the first night you kissed. You could still see things clearly and you were very aware that you were about to have sex with a guy on the first date. A guy you lived across from at that—one you drunkenly kissed without knowing it. This was a new you and something you’ve never done but it didn’t stop you from looking around his bedroom finding it fitting.
He had a large king sized bed pushed against the black wall of band posters and Vinyls. His bedsheets were black silk and his headboard was a deep red velvet. Aside from the posters he had black and white sketches of various dark things from moths to skulls and even a few dead roses. He had a couple weights laying around and it was overall a clean and tidy room just a little darker than you expected. Even the large mirror he had over his headboard had a black wooden frame with engravings of vines and flowers on it. It was huge too and you could see the entire room from that angle. The room was dimly lit too with the light switch only turning on two lamps in the corners of the room and it gave it a warm and dark feel. To be honest
 his bedroom was as hot as he was, just imagining the things he could do to you in these silk sheets was enough for you to clench your thighs shut.
In the background some music started playing from a different room letting you know Jungkook was back.
Mascara by Deftones played in the back as Jungkook returned to you, standing behind you in the mirror and you watched as his tattooed arm came around your waist to the front of your stomach while he pressed you into his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, “You’re so fucking pretty.”
You smiled shyly as he began to leave soft kisses along your neck, his ringed fingers coming up to push your hair out of his way and you felt your breath hitch when his teeth nipped at your earlobe. Turning your head to face him, you pressed your lips against his and he met you with an open mouth kiss letting the hand on your stomach slip under your fitted forest green long sleeve top, it must be your favorite color, he realized. You had chosen to go brakes underneath and he noticed right away but like a gentleman he forced himself not to stare. Now he’s free to feel up your soft stomach and bunch up the shirt to feel your breasts in his hands.
He was quite literally feeling you up for your own viewing with the way the two of you stood in front of the window. Your breath hitched when his cold fingertips brushed along your exposed nipples, teasing you as you made out out and you felt your body slowly turning to mush in his hands. You wore this black silky skirt with velvet black flowers on and it was short but flowy so it gave his other hand easy access to the expanse of your thighs and you felt like you were being manhandled in the most gentle way.
His tattooed hand disappeared under your skirt and you felt his teasing touch along your thighs but avoiding the space between your legs as his other hand punched your nipple making you whine into his mouth. This was all a bit bizarre but you could hear your friends now cheering you on for getting laid by the hot guy next door.
You blame the fact that you haven’t had sex in a while by how aroused you were and how easy it was for him to push you forward until you were crawling onto his silk sheets ready to turn on your back but you couldn’t. Jungkook pushed you face down onto his bed and he crawled over you kissing your neck as he grabbed at the hem of your skirt and pulled it down. He had already pulled your shirt up to reveal your breasts and now he was yanking your underwear down too until he threw it along with the skirt on the floor. You gasped as he maneuvered your body to his liking, tits pressed against the sheets while lifting your hips so your bare butt was in the air.
Jungkook was trying to take his time but you just looked so ready for his touch too and all the little whimpers in surprise by the way he held you was too much for him to remain calm. He had so much he wanted to do to you.
His fingers trembled as he ran them along your naked backside and spine, kissing whatever he touched until finally he was kissing your lower back, hands finally finding your hips and dropping down to the space between your legs. You had to clench the silk in your hands to keep yourself from squirming in anticipation, unable to help yourself from gasping, “Jungkook.”
The sound of his name falling from your lips had him greedily diving forward letting his tongue out and licking the first swipe along your folds catching you by surprise. With a low growl in frustration, he pinched your hips and dragged them back until he was able to fully press his face into your wet heat that had his eyes rolling back knowing he’s the one who’s made you like this in such a short time.
The last Deftones song ended and a new one began but it went completely unnoticed by the two of you as he began to let his eagerness show with the way he ate you out from behind.
He wanted to be buried in your perfect cunt until he could barely breathe. If he ran out of breath, if he fucking suffocated, he would die a happy man knowing he’s found the one meant for him and that he’s able to pleasure you to the point where your thighs already began to shake. You dug your face into the bed to hide your moans and he only took that as a challenge to make you be louder to the point where you can’t hide it.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned softly unable to hold yourself back.You were so fucking wet. Your slick was all over his chin and his nose as he found your clit with ease. You were moaning loudly now, grinding into his face with enough force to make him dizzy. His nails were digging into your soft thighs, not once bothering to pull away for air. . Anyone nearby could listen to the feral sound he was able to rouse from his mouth despite being buried in that sweet, sweet cunt, he did not care. He was going to make you beg for him harder.
"Fuck," your head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the sheets as if you could get a look at him from the back, "Please," he heard you whisper, desperation spilling from your tone. Breathless moans and a few choice curse words followed before he felt you become restless, close to orgasm and trying to push him away before the pleasure became overwhelming. Even if this was his first time with you, he knew how bad you wanted it so he didn’t move back, choosing instead to lap at your slick folds feeling your walls try and tighten around his tongue, "Yes, fuck, right there, baby. Don't stop."
The term of endearment was enough to make him moan into your pussy but he won’t stop. Not until his cock was buried tightly between your walls feeling you come undone around him like he'd been craving for since he met you. Alternating between sucking on your clit and quickly lapping his tongue against it, Jungkook could feel your body begin to tremble and it only made his hold on your hips tighten to keep you in place. Your hips began to turn into his face failing miserably and getting him off and instead of saying to stop, you said, “S-so close.”.
His tongue lapped at your folds creating a squelching sound, your hips rutting against his face. He sucked on your clit, tongue hitting the tip with each swivel as the hand on your hip was suddenly pinching. A low growl vibrated between your walls as he ate you from behind and your eyes burned with the need to keep them open, your hand hit the bed feeling yourself become restless and before you could say anything your walls were breaking. Jungkook never once slowed down, licking and sucking away your release as your legs shook and gave out yet he held your hips up to his face until he was satisfied.
Jungkook tried easing you down from your first orgasm of the night and when he finally sat back all he could see as he looked down was your pretty body facing down on his bed where you belonged. He licked his lips, hand barely grazing over his hardened member which still stayed confined in his black jeans and with a soft caress over your butt he whispered, “Give me a second, baby.”
You barely nodded, unable to move as he left the bed in search of his master bathroom. He began to rummage through his drawers praying to the universe that he had just one condom. It had been so long since he last had sex and though he would love to feel all of you during your first time, he also knew he had to be safe. He was too worked up right now to remind himself to pull out so he had to find some sort of protection. He created so much noise in his hurry and when he found one he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
When he came back out to his bedroom you had rid yourself of your shirt from being overheated but you still laid face down trying to keep cool. He smiled warmly as he pulled at the neckline of his long sleeve till it was off his head and checked it to the ground leaving his chains on. Next to come off was his black belt that hit the floor with a heavy thud along with his black jeans and white Calvin Kleins. He tore into the package of the condom rolling it on swiftly as he slowly stroked himself to the sight of you, unable to stop his tattooed hand from running along his own abs to his nipples where the piercings had turned them sensitive. He pressed a knee to the bed, cock in hand as he lined himself behind you, not pushing in but angling your hips how he wanted them and let his dick thrust between your fold teasingly. You released a surprised whimper that had him smiling and he found himself lying over you just enough but not hard enough to crush you.
With his free hand he brushes your hair off your back and shoulder, moving it to one side so he can see your pretty face, “You ready, baby?” It was his turn to call you that and it sounded so perfect falling from his gorgeous lips. You nodded your head shyly, hips already withering with the way his cock teased your entrance but never went in.
He smiled lovingly, “Words, love.”
“Yes,” you moaned as his tip began to press into your opening, “Fuck, need you inside.”
Jungkook bit his piercing as he nodded, pulling back just enough to guide his cock into your wet pussy. You both released a silent moan as he began to stretch you open with his thick dick. His tattooed arm came to your lower back for support as he stopped himself from thrusting all the way in but he couldn’t take it. He needed you to feel all of him, so he pressed a little more, other hand holding up your hips to fuck you from behind. When you finally began to fuck yourself on his cock, he knew you were ready and with the same hand he had on your back, he wrapped it around your waist until he was pulling up your seemingly limp body to his chest.
"Want me to do all the work while you just lay there, huh baby?" His hand slid between your breasts to grab at your throat forcing your jaw to stay open making you moan.
You shook your head no as you arched your back off of him so you could fuck yourself on his cock but with the arm loosely around your throat it was hard to move more. His brows scrunched together in pleasure when your wetness created such a soft glide into your warm pussy that he couldn’t help but sneak his other hand down your front too and touch your clit. Your head lolled to the side as he began to leave harsh love bites on your neck and through dazed eyes you found your gaze shifting back to the black mirror that hung over his headboard and when he found where your attention had gone to, he looked at himself too.
It was erotic the way the two of you fucked in his black and red room with sultry rock music playing in the background and your slutty body being pinched at by his rough hands while he impaled you with his cock. You haven’t even had a chance to fully devour the sight of his body, he was so focused on eating you out and getting right to fucking you.
But you loved it. You loved having his hand around your throat. You loved the rough pace he was setting. You loved the animalistic way he'd dropped down to his knees and ate you out like your pussy was his last meal. You loved the way this stranger who wasn’t much of a stranger fucked you roughly yet so gentle and loving, making you feel so good. You were close again and he was too. His free hand flew down to your pubic bone pushing you back onto his cock until he was buried to the hilt and kept himself there breathing heavily. His eyes squeezed shut feeling you shake with a loud moan that he had to cover your mouth with his other hand to block. He turned your face over by your jaw smashing his lips onto yours feeling your body tremble with release that he had to giggle.
You came so easily each time and he was nowhere near done with you even as your body became mush in his hands. Jungkook found himself struggling to breathe as your walls tightened around him feeling your release dribble down his cock to his balls and with a quiet grunt, he came in the condom hugging you to his chest as you both fell onto the bed with him on top of you.
When he was able to catch his breath better he took the condom off and collapsed down at your side, staring up at the ceiling and you finally had a chance to see him in all his naked glory. The piercings he wore on his nipples were silver barbells and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his chest rose and fell with every shaky breath he released. Your eyes trailed down his body toward his dick which rested against his stomach still hard. Jungkook could feel you watching him, he took your hand in his, bringing it toward his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
Unable to help yourself you pulled yourself up, a leg thrown over his thigh and you kissed him. Jungkook’s breath hitched as he moved his mouth against yours, feeling your tongue swipe over his lip ring tugging on it softly.
You placed a palm on his chest, fingertip just millimeters away from his right nipple and you touched the bar. He brought a hand around your neck keeping you in place to make out while feeling your finger do right circles around his bud, moving the bar gently. Jungkook couldn’t do anything about the way his dick hardened once more, thrilled to know you wanted to keep going.
He’s had sex many times yet nothing has ever felt as good as what you two just did and if you want to do it again then that means you feel the same. You need him just as bad.
A low groan left his lips as you attempted to pull away and he only let you when you very lightly tugged on the metal bar, you kissed down his neck and collarbone. Jungkook licked his swollen red lips as he stared blankly at the ceiling trying not to get too eager but he really did not want to cum so quickly again. Your lips wrapped around his left nipple immediately drawing out a moan from him when your tongues licked over the cold metal. He took a hold of your free hand and couldn’t help but bring it down to his hard cock.
"Fuck," he groaned when your hand tightened around his fist forcing the grip on his cock to squeeze in an upward stroke, he was fucking himself with your hand as you sucked and tugged on his nipples. He licked his dry lips, "I want to fuck you so bad."
He received no response but that didn’t stop him from letting out any noise he wanted to, almost louder than the rock music outside. He licked his lips, biting back a groan as you left a sloppy open mouth kisses against his skin, tongue soothing any sting your teeth left when they nipped him. Your tongue circled around his nipple again while taking over stroking his cock as his fist flew to his mouth to hide loud moans.
Earlier Jungkook asked if you wanted him to do all that work and honestly, that’s how you preferred it. You didn’t like having to do much work during sex but Jungkook made you just want to keep going. It’s like he was pulling you in by just being himself.
His legs shook when your hand released his dick to go massage his balls, feeling your grip pull on his flesh making him wince in pleasure. Deciding he couldn’t take not doing anything, his fingers found their way into your hair by the back of your neck, and though he tried not to do it too harshly, pulled you off of him.
“Get on top,” he said with a deep raspy voice that went straight down between your legs but you shook your hand.
You wanted to feel the weight of him in your mouth but you also wanted to feel him inside of you again. You looked at him, “I’m on the pill.”
“Good,” Jungkook said as he helped you move to straddle his hips, “Because I’m out of condoms.”
He needs to remind himself that if he’s going to be with you he needs to buy more. That one had just been sitting in his drawer and he’s really sure how long but it wasn’t expired yet. He also knew he hasn’t had any sex in a few months now and he had no reason for any but now he has you. Now he has to think about you and he swears he will but you don’t seem to mind the way he lines you up with his pointed cock and slowly brings your hips down.
“Oh my god,” you sighed as you sank down with ease and let yourself get readjusted and comfortable with the stimulation again. Usually it’s hard for a guy to make you cum but Jungkook did so easily and he’s already on his way to bring a third out of you. A third. You’ve only brought him to one yet he doesn’t seem to mind, more eager to fuck you with his cock to care.
“Fucking hell," he said moaning as he fucked into you, with a concentrated face watching the way your hips gyrated. Your nails clawed at his chest and accidentally tugged at his piercing a little too harshly and you immediately went to apologize at the sudden grunt that fell from his lips but went quiet when Jungkook sat up and turned you onto your back underneath him. The second he was on top and more in control the pace picked up. You could feel him begin to leave love bites on your chest but the tipping point was when he sucked on your nipple as your body bounced off the bed with each thrust. After all the abuse you did on his piercings he was tired and horny and ready to blow his load and he needed you there too.
This time you’re very aware of how crazy you’re about to sound. You don’t know Jungkook. You’ve kissed him as a stranger and now you’re sleeping with him as one but
 but he wants more. He wants romance and you can just tell by the way he talks to you. For some reason that’s making it a lot easier for you to give him affection back and more willing to let him be with you. You weren’t thinking clearly though when you said, “Cum inside.”
Jungkook’s gaze darkened as he groped your breasts looking you in the eye and never once stopping his thrusts, “Really?”
“Yes.”
Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours holding you tighter and that’s when it hit you. You scratched along his back whining as you came around him. Jungkook practically hugged your body to his as his legs nearly gave out with his release.
You were sweaty and hot gasping for breath as he pulled out with much disappointment. He looked down at your naked body feeling all sorts of things he couldn’t understand but knew they were good. Just look at how fucked out you are. He wanted to go again but he knows for a fact how bad of an idea that was.
Right now it was in the heat of the moment to not use protection and a bad idea to do it again so he but his tongue and ran a gentle hand along your calf, “You okay?”
“Bathroom?” You asked ready to clean yourself and he pointed it out watching you leave. He fell back on his bed with a huge grin feeling at an all time high, unable to stay still as he shot up and found a towel to clean himself with in bed. When you came back out you didn’t even hesitate to crawl into his oleen arms tiredly.
“Sorry for earlier,” you said softly as you pointed at his red nipple. You had tugged a little too hard on accident and thought it brought him pain it also gave him extreme pleasure. He just smiled hugging you to his side, “I kinda liked it.”
You laughed with him, “Did they hurt?”
“Mm,” Jungkook looked up in thought. He couldn’t help but think about how much you two looked like a couple enjoying their company after making love, “Want me to tell you the truth or what will make me sound cooler?”
“Both,” you said, making him chuckle.
“Alright
 I didn’t feel shit,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “But the second one also hurt so fucking bad it almost brought this grown man to tears.”
You laughed at his honesty making yourself more comfortable against him, “Why’d you get all these tattoos and piercings then?”
“So a pretty girl like you could ask me why,” he said teasingly and smiled when you rolled your eyes, “And because I thought they would make me look badass.”
“They do,” you laughed, daring to close your eyes and the way he let your hair was enough to have you falling asleep. You slept for a short moment, very short that had been cut short by a loud dog barking by the door. Jungkook groaned as he shouted out for Bam as you sat up looking dazed and confused.
Jungkook hurried to turn off the music and apologize to Bam for being so loud before practically running to you. He fell back into his bed quickly hoping to go back to sleep with you but it was too late. You didn’t mean to fall asleep and now look at the time. In hopes of distracting you, he leant forward and kissed you.
“I have to go,” you sighed against his lips as he kissed you again. It didn’t even seem like he heard you so you pushed at his face gently to get him to back up as you repeated, “I have to go.”
His eyebrows scrunched together as he used the small grip in your hair to hold you away from him, “Why?”
“Armani’s been alone for hours,” you said with a sigh and nothing in your voice sounded like you weren’t serious. He let you sit up but he quickly followed, “Who?”
“My cat,” you clarified as you looked around for your clothes. A scoff left his lips as he scratched his head, ruffling up his sex hair even more, “You’re leaving me for a cat?”
His eyes shifted to the alarm clock on his nightstand, “It’s past midnight.”
That made you laugh, “Jungkook, I’m just next door, besides if I don’t get home now Amarni will destroy my pillows again, trust me. He’s crazy.”
You ran your hand along his chest, half tempted to brush a finger over his piercing to see if he would suck in a breath like he did before.
Jungkook huffed in annoyance as he got up and slipped on the closest pair of pants he could find and threw on an old t-shirt. You looked at him, but he just scruffed up his hair again, still slightly dazed from the good fuck you two just had. He yawned, “I’ll walk you back then.”
You didn’t argue as he followed you out of his apartment and you really did feel a bit flustered doing this but you had to. You really weren’t lying about Armani, he’s a cat who likes routine and you told him you would be coming home tonight. If he notices that you might not be back he’ll act like a total brat and scratch up your pillows like last time. Plus, if you left then you wouldn’t have to worry about being kicked out and forced to take the walk of shame in the morning.
You stood in front of your apartment door with Jungkook right there in front of you. You leaned against your door for a second as you looked back at him, “I’m sorry.”
“Hm,” he trailed off, taking a step closer to you until one arm was around your waist and a hand was on your neck, “When can I see you again?” It was very obvious that leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do. You bit your bottom lip with raised brows, a bit in shock that he wanted to see you again. Despite how great tonight was, Jungkooked pegged you as a womanizer. Why would he want to see you again?
“I don’t know, I’m sort of busy these next couple of days.” Once again, it was not a lie. You had plans with your friends tomorrow and you’ll be busy with work.
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed and before he could stop himself, he asked, “Are you lying to me?”
You’re leaving his bed for a fucking cat and now you’re telling him you’ll be too busy to see him? What bullshit lie was that? Did you not want to see him again after tonight? Do you think he’s going to let you give up that easily?
The question was unexpected but he spoke to you in his usual gentle and deep tone that you were a little confused to answer.
“No, I’ve got plans tomorrow and I’ll be working all day this week,” you said with narrowed eyes, “Why would I lie to you?”
Jungkook smiled softly now as if he hadn’t looked so serious seconds ago, “You’re right, I’m sorry I guess it didn’t make sense to me at first. I’m feeling tired.”
He acted strangely and you’re beginning to pick up on that a little bit but that only caught your interest more, like you wanted to know what his deal was. Why is a seemingly charming and good looking man single? You’re sure he gets hit on all the time and he might enjoy it even if he’s planning to sleep with you. What was his deal?
You placed a hand on the back of his neck and without much effort, reached up to capture his lips with yours. He didn’t put up a fight at all, choosing instead to focus on your tender affection, reminiscent of the night you’ve just spent together. He could stay like this for the rest of the night if you let him.
You told yourself over and over again that you weren’t going to get caught up on a guy again and yet here you are making out with this guy who you kissed right after a break up weeks ago all over again. Was this even what you wanted?
You gave him a wary smile, “I’ll call you?”
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Music played loudly in the dimly lit studio and all you heard was the sound of tattoo guns buzzing away.
Rosemary by Deftones filled the black room as Jungkook bit his lip ring in concentration, not bothering to turn at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Namjoon and Yoongi walked into the tattoo parlor that was covered from floor to ceiling in artwork and pictures Jungkook did.
Jungkook was dressed in all black with his tatted hands hidden away by black latex gloves. He had his hair tied back and out of his face so he can work better and his black chunky boots tapped against the floor to the best of the music every now and then when he hummed to himself.
“You almost done?” Namjoon asked as he looked at what he was working on right now. His client sat in the chair with her neck tilted to the side as he did a shaded tattoo behind her ear. The girl was hot, dyed black hair, tattoos, piercings and quite literally the female version of Jungkook yet he didn’t so much as smile whenever she tried to clearly hit on him.
“Almost,” Jungkook said as he used a hand wipe to clean off excess ink. He tilted his head in thought as he looked it over, “Actually, yeah I am. Take a look in the mirror.”
He wheeled his chair back as he pulled off his gloves and looked at his friends, “What are you guys doing here?”
He took his vape out of his pocket and hit it right there in front of them as he waited for the chick to come back and tell him what she thinks about it. Yoongi sat in the unused tattoo chair, “Let’s get some drinks.”
“Alright,” Jungkook said simply. The two looked at each other in confusion as Jungkook told the girl how much it was and tucked the cash into his pocket. They thought it would have taken more to convince him like it usually did. As he finished up with the client he had a little smile on his face and was humming along to whatever song was playing off his phone.
“That was easy,” Namjoon pointed out.
“I’m done for the day anyway,” Jungkook shrugged.
He closed the shop and went to the back where his things were. Yoongi and Namjoon waited out front by the counter, taking in the sight of Jungkook’s tattoo parlor. It wasn’t big by any means but he got a lot of business. The room looked exactly like something Jungkook would decorate and he gets a lot of clients every day. It probably helps that clients tell their friends about him and they come too, looking to get a tattoo from him. It’s not a surprise that most of his clients are women.
Yoongi looked slightly bored waiting for Jungkook to finish and he found himself skimming all the papers on Jungkook’s counter. His brows furrowed as he picked up a small slip of paper and let his eyes widen as he read it. It was receipts from a few floral shops,
An order of 20 bouquets of Baby Breath’s flowers.
He tapped Namjoon on the shoulder until he had his attention and showed him the paper.
When Jungkook came out, he found himself asking, “What’s up with all these flowers?”
The smile on Jungkook’s face seemed to tighten as he took the paper out of their hands, “Don’t worry about it.”
“Is it for the chick you’re seeing? That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?” Namjoon asked with a chuckle as the three left the studio letting Jungkook lock it up. He didn’t say anything for a second.
It wasn’t extreme.
It was romantic?
You worked as a florist. You liked flowers, you liked Baby Breath flowers and he looked up what they meant.
Undying love.
That’s what he felt for you and he wanted to give you a gift you’ll enjoy. Did he maybe go too far? Yeah, but you won’t be upset. You can’t be.
“Wait, how did I not know you’re seeing someone?” Yoongi asked.
“I didn’t know for a while either,” Namjoon told him, “Jungkook show him a picture.”
“Alright,” Jungkook said as he exited out of the app he was currently on to go through his camera roll. He got in the backseat of Yoongi’s car, scrolling through his pictures until he found one. A smile came to his face as he took a second to admire you.
He took this picture last night. You couldn’t see much because the lights were off but after the two of you made love you had fallen asleep. It was right before you jolted awake remembering your stupid cat but he got a picture of you sleeping soundly against him. Your hair framed your face perfectly and you looked so peaceful and at home in his arms that he needed a picture to remember the first night together. It was also the first photo he took of you up close.
“Shit, hang this up in a museum,” Yoongi joked because it really was a nice picture, “How long have you been together?”
“A while.”
When they got to the bar it was already packed with sweaty bodies that made Jungkook cringe whenever someone bumped into him. They got their drinks and went to a table, “So how did the two of you meet?”
“Y/n lives next door,” Jungkook said as he tilted his phone a bit so they couldn’t see the way he switched to another app. He typed in his password and went straight to the video footage. He just had to know if you were home yet.
“Damn, you just moved there too, how’d you pull someone that fast?” Yoongi laughed because they didn’t know that Jungkook just started talking to you a couple days ago. To them, Jungkook and you have been dating for a few weeks now.
“We met a little before that,” His brows knitted together as he looked at the footage. Your curtains were drawn so he couldn’t see in and he can’t tell if you’re home or not. He immediately went to text you.
jungkook: are you home yet? :)
You’ll be honest, you saw Jungkook’s text but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to answer. You have been texting with Jungkook nonstop since that Friday night where he fucked you so good that you woke up with bruises on your hips and left scratch marks along his back that he generously decided to show you a picture of over text.
You’re not sure what to think about him either. Friday night was fun, you got drinks and got to know him better, he treated you right and aside from that strange conversation about destiny the night went perfect. He took you back to his place where you quite literally had the best sex you’ve had in a while and he didn’t ghost you right after. Hell, he made you not want to leave but you did anyway.
Today you’ve been texting on and off and it was all your fault. He responds so quickly but you get busy or forget to respond until he sends another like right now. The last text he sent was asking what time you got off but you had been dealing with delivery orders so you never responded. You had completely forgotten about it until you were in the elevator to your building heading home. Your friend Jiyoung was right behind you, ready to nap on your couch but you weren’t paying attention to her anymore.
You were so focused on your phone that you nearly missed the sight before you as you walked down the hall to your apartment. Your expression changed to that of confusion as you stopped a few feet away from your door. You couldn’t even get to it with the line of bouquets scattered across the entrance. Some lined the walls, some bunched up in front of your door, some had cards in them.
“What the fuck?” Jiyoung asked as she counted them, “Who did this?”
Without much debate, you bent down and took a card in your hands, flipping it open to read:
“For my undying love.”
You couldn’t do anything but blink in surprise. What did this mean?
“Let’s get them inside,” you said with a sigh as you unlocked your front door and urged your friend to help you put them in. It took a few back and forth trips for the both of you but once you scattered them all in your apartment it was very overwhelming.
“This is crazy,” Jiyoung said even as she laughed, “You’ve got an admirer? Is that guy from the other night?”
“Um,” you bit your lip, confused and a little thrown off by this, “Give me a second.”
Jiyoung waved you off as she threw herself on your couch and moved a vase off the coffee table so she had an unobstructed view of your tv. You went straight to your bedroom already pulling up Jungkook’s contact information and dialing.
“Are you home?”
“I am,” you said as you took in your bedroom and it’s lack of flowers, “It was you, right?”
“What?” Jungkook asked over the loud music. He could barely hear you and without another word he was getting up to find somewhere quieter. He ended up in the hall that led toward the restrooms where the music was a bit drowned out.
“The flowers, was it you?”
His smile seemed to drop, “Why? Were you hoping for someone else?”
“No,” you told him, “I just
”
“You don’t like them? I thought they were your favorite,” he said with a boyish smile, proud of himself. He watched some drunk girls stumble past him with disgust.
“They are my favorite,” you said, “Uh, thank you but how'd you find a place that had this many Baby’s Breath?”
“Oh! I had to call up a few different places,” Jungkook said, “And obviously I couldn’t call you because that would ruin the surprise—Hey! Now that you’re home, should I come over?”
“Oh um, I have some friends over, remember?” You asked him shyly. You could hear him take a deep breath but you’re not sure if that meant anything or not.
Who did you have over? Was it that same guy he’s seen before? What was going on between you two anyway?
Some girl bumped into him and he turned to her with a glare, almost forgetting that he had you on the phone. She smiled at him like that would make things better but he was starting to get annoyed. It wasn’t her fault but that didn’t change the fact that her touching him just bothered him. He turned away to talk to you again. He forced his voice to sound light, “I remember, you’re busy.”
“Sorry,” you apologized gnawing on your bottom lip, “How about tomorrow?”
He smiled, “Tomorrow? I’m down.”
“Okay let’s meet then but I have to go now.”
Jungkook said his goodbye and stood in the dark hall in thought. He had to find a way to get a camera in your house. He can’t see much just from the window and he needs to know who you invite over when he’s not around.
“Excuse me.”
He turned back to the drunk that hadn’t left yet despite his efforts to ignore her presence. She smiled at him sweetly like that would make him swoon but he was mad and it wouldn’t work. You were too busy for him but not your friends?
“What?” He asked, already trying to walk back to his friends.
“You look familiar, have we met before?” She asked, following after him and he turned looking at her from head to toe and it made her blush.
“Definitely not.” He was leaving again until a small hand wrapped around his bicep and with an annoyed look he looked back at her. His patience was running thin.
“Well, uh, here then,” she pushed a paper into his hands finally releasing her hold on his bicep. He looked down at the line of paper that she clearly got from the restroom with a number scribbled on it in a rush.
His eyes shifted back to hers and instead of running off shyly she held his gaze with a confident smile. The paper sat in his open palm and without tearing his gaze away from her he made a fist crumpling the paper in his hold and just like that, he threw it on the floor, “What makes you think I would be interested in you?”
He even had the nerve to laugh when she looked taken back. He left without another word and went back to his friends.
“Who was that on the phone?” Yoongi asked when he sat back down. He smiled that bunny smile, “Y/n.”
“What’d she think about the flowers?” Namjoon asked curiously.
“She loved them,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “I think.”
And you’ll love the tattoo just behind his ear too.
“I can’t help but think you look a little tense, Kook.”
Jungkook ignored his friend as he delivered another hit to the punching bag with a low grunt. Make Me Bad by Korn played loudly in the empty training room. He ignored Seokjin as he continued to hit the punching bag. Jin released a sigh as he sat back and watched his friend release whatever stress he felt.
“She’s avoiding me,” Jungkook said to himself as he hit the bag hard. Jin wasn’t fully listening anymore but Jungkook didn’t seem to care as he went on, “She’s lying to me.”
“She’s fucking lying to me,” he hit the 200lb punching bag hard enough to make it move back from the bar and farther away from him.
“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Jin asked, watching Jungkook throw off his waistband and gloves. His nose was running from how hard he was working out and his heart pumped with adrenaline. He sniffled as he pushed back his sweaty curls, “Y/n. She hasn’t texted me back in over an hour.”
“She’s probably busy,” Jin said, watching Jungkook lift his shirt up to wipe at his forehead.
“She’s not,” Jungkook said with a tensed jaw, “I know exactly what she’s doing.”
Just before he came to train with Jin he looked at his camera. You had the windows open today and you had people over. He doesn’t care if you invite people over but two guys?
Two guys?
Wasn’t he enough?
One of those guys was over all the fucking time and that pissed him off. How could he be sure you’re not messing around with one of them behind his back?
Jin wasn’t as close to Jungkook as the other two. They were friends and hung out often but he’s not as caught up with Jungkook and his antics as the others. To him, Jungkook was just hoping to be with his girlfriend, so he sighed and said, “So go over and see what she’s up to.”
Jungkook didn’t quite hear his friend with his loud thoughts drumming in his ears so he turned to him with dark eyes, “You think she’s cheating on me?”
“Only one way to find out,” Jin said with a smirk, unaware of how far Jungkook will go to know. He watched his friend’s mind run rampant but he just sat back comfortably. Jungkook was just a concerned boyfriend after all. He didn’t think deeply about his comment, he assumed maybe Jungkook would just tell him to fuck off but he really did look pissed.
When they finished their training, Jungkook rushed over to his place to wash off his work out. He practically ran next door jumping steps to go to you and when he knocked on your door, he couldn’t help but look upset when another man opened it.
It took a second for Taehyung to recognize him, he’s never seen him up close before but when he caught sight of the tattoo sleeve he knew exactly who this guy was. He looked back into your apartment ready to call you over only to find you standing behind him already, “Jungkook?”
Taehyung moved out of the way and let Jungkook through who immediately went right to you, “I wanted to see you, is this a bad time?”
You looked back to your friends who didn’t even pretend to act like they weren’t eavesdropping. You smiled, “No, come in, we’re just talking.”
Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you inside and you led him straight to the kitchen, “Want a drink?”
“Mhm,” Jungkook responded, watching you sweetly as you opened and closed cabinets. You served him a drink and asked, “What’s that red mark by your eye?”
It took him a moment to process what you were asking and he brought a hand up, “Oh, I was boxing and I think my friend hit me a little too hard.”
You made a pouting face teasingly, “Poor baby.”
He smiled knowing you were just teasing him but also showing interest, “Kiss it better?” With a roll of your eyes you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss near his eye. You led him back to the living room where your friends were.
“So you’re the one who Y/n’s cheating on me with,” Hoseok joked right away and it made you roll your eyes as the others laughed. Jungkook didn’t react but his gaze did seem to harden as he stared at the stranger. You scooted a little closer to Jungkook letting him wrap his arm around you as you leaned back on the couch, “Pack it up Hobi, the joke’s old.”
“It’s not a joke to me!” Hoseok said with a wink as he turned to Jungkook, “Alright whatever, as long as you’re better than the last guy.”
“Oh my god!” Jiyoung squeaked, “Hobi, you can’t just say things like that. Are you drunk?”
He smiled, “I’m just saying.”
Jungkook tilted his head in your direction but you just sighed, “Please ignore them.”
“Oh.”
“So, what are you two anyway? You went crazy with the flowers,” Taehyung asked curiously, joking a little at the end.
Jungkook kept his gaze down, trying his hardest to ignore your friends while also listen in to your answer. You raised your cup to your lips looking at Jungkook who met your gaze hesitantly.
Say he’s your boyfriend, Jungkook thought.
Say you’re his.
Say he’s the on—
“We’re just
 yknow, having fun?”
He stopped.
His muscles tensed, tongue poking against his cheek as he looked away from you to hide his expression. His lips curled with the need to scoff but he kept it in. He wanted to ask you why you would say that but not in front of the others. It should be a private conversation between the two of you about your relationship because you clearly weren’t just having fun.
He kept his gaze focused on the picture you had hanging above the fireplace mantle. Your apartment was identical to him and he looked at every corner as if in search of something. With a clear of his throat, he turned to you, “Bathroom?”
“I’ll show you,” you said, patting his thigh as you rose to your feet. You took his hand in yours immediately shooting electricity down his arm as he held it tightly. You pointed to the bathroom but before you got there you asked, “You okay? You’re being kind of quiet.”
“I’m fine, I’m having fun,” Jungkook said with a strained voice, he never tore his gaze away from yours as you stood in front of him near the bathroom. You haven’t known him for long but you do know that when Jungkook looks at you, he never looks this strained. There was clearly something on his mind.
With a defeated sigh, you gave up on asking him anything and went back to the living room. Jungkook waited against the door for a minute to see if you would come back. When you didn’t he took a turn down the rest of the hall fumbling with something he shoved in the big pocket of his black cargo pants.
He looked down at the tiniest camera he’s ever seen and like he was walking into his own place, he went straight to your bedroom. He moved swiftly, finding exactly where he wanted to hide it and in no time he was back to the bathroom pretending to be busy.
You released a sigh, “Let’s call it a night.”
You enjoyed having your friends over and you had spent pretty much all evening with them but you’re getting tired already. It was late, you had a surprisingly busy day today and all your social battery is just completely out. Plus, if they’re just going to talk or tease Jungkook then you'd rather just call it a night. You feel it in your gut that you said something that annoyed him at least a little and it’s probably when they asked what the two of you were.
You don’t know what your relationship with him is, if you’re being honest. Since the beginning you told yourself you didn’t want to date but it feels like that’s what Jungkook wants. You shouldn’t lead him on so you should be open about what you’re looking for but you also don’t want to make him stop talking to you. You have no idea how he really thinks about you so it’s all just so confusing.
“Awe,” Jiyoung whined as she watched you begin to clean up some of the things. The guys seemed too drunk to even care that you were kicking them out as they got up without complaint. When Jungkook finished up he came out to an empty apartment.
He didn’t like what he felt at the moment. You telling your friends that it’s all just fun really bothered him and it made him realize that he hasn’t asked the right questions. Jungkook played with his lip ring as he watched you clean up and he found himself asking, “So uh, how long ago was your last relationship? Your friend brought it up kind of and I guess I just never asked that sort of thing.”
“Um
” your movements seemed to slow as you thought about how to answer, “Two months ago?”
It was quiet for a moment and as hard as you tried, you couldn’t read his expression. Jungkook’s gaze hardened as he tried to think of what happened two months ago, “When we met? Do you still talk to him?”
You rolled your eyes remembering your ex boyfriend. At the time you definitely were a lot more hurt about it now but that doesn’t mean you want to talk about the guy. He cheated on you and now you’re scared it’ll happen again if you start dating.
“No, he cheated on me,” you told Jungkook as you sat down on your couch. Jungkook bit his lip ring hard in thought.
If you and the guy broke up around the time where he met you then that would mean when he met you at the club and saw your bloodshot eyes
 it must’ve been when you broke up. You kissed him in the middle of a heartbreak too drunk to even remember. Now you’re telling your friends it’s all just some fun you’re having fun with him and he still doesn’t get what that means.
You watched him stare off into space, eyes wide in thought and you patted the spot on the couch next to yours for him to sit down. You know you’re confusing and you really don’t think you want to be in a relationship but Jungkook
 it’s hard to explain. He’s a little intense and sometimes too pushy but for some reason you really did like him.
As he sat down you couldn’t help but play with the Sterling silver Vivienne Westwood chain necklace he wore. He watched your finger hook itself onto the chain and his breath hitched at the warm touch of your finger against his skin. You looked at him with wide and sparkly eyes that had his tongue playing with his lip ring as he bunched up the hem of his black Nirvana tee in his fingers to stop his hands from shaking by having you so close. Without much warning, you tugged on the chain with your index finger and like a devoted pet, he was following your call until his lips met yours. Some of his longer curls tickled your cheeks and he kissed you with such eagerness nearly toppling over you when you pulled on the chain.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip softly as he opened his eyes, looking down at you, “I would never hurt you like the others have.”
You’ve grown used to the way Jungkook acts around you. He likes to be the one to do things for you despite you being able to do it on your own. He hates when you don’t text back in an hour or two. He always seems to know when you’re not home, he offers to pick you up from work, he tries to come anytime you go out with your friends. He’s just sort of always around. You’re not sure if he’s like that with others but that’s how he is with you.
You should definitely be a little burdened by it, it’s suffocating honestly but you genuinely don’t think Jungkook has bad intentions with it. He doesn’t talk much about himself or his friends or family but he always seems to be interested in hearing everything about you. You’re not sure if he has many other people to talk to and you enjoy his time too much to push him away.
One thing you hate to admit and really the only downside to him is his obsession with getting you flowers. The first time the two of you went out he asked you what flowers you liked and you told him absentmindedly. You never expected him to have so many bouquets of them delivered—nor did you expect to receive one every time you saw him.
You loved flowers and were thankful for the thought behind it but you’re beginning to hate Baby’s Breath. You’re starting to see them everywhere from work to home to any time you see Jungkook. They’re everywhere and it’s beginning to feel like you’re drowning in the little white flowers.
If only you had the heart to tell him that he didn’t need to get you flowers every time he saw you.
“Y/n,” Jungkook had a huge smile on his face, “This is Namjoon, That’s Yoongi.”
He pointed to two of his friends who hung around his living room. His arm was around your waist loosely as he directed you to a seat, only to pull you onto his lap when he sat down. You smile shyly as you attempt to greet them only to have Jungkook pull your attention back on him when he places a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade, arms tight around you.
Namjoon was surprised to see this side of Jungkook and he’s only just met you. It makes him wonder if he’s always been this way with you. He very rarely sees the guy smile much less show this much affection to one person and it’s all just very new to him. He’s seen Jungkook upset and mad plenty of times but to see him look soft and gentle was something entirely different.
“Nice of Jungkook to finally let us meet you,” Yoongi said with a light chuckle as he offered you a drink. You took the cup from him with a smile as he continued, “You’re all he talks about, it’s weird.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook warned as you felt his arms tighten around you just slightly. Yoongi just smiled, “I’m just saying, it’s been nonstop weeks of listening about you talk about your girlfriend so it’s nice to finally get to meet her, right Joon?”
Your brows seemed to scrunch together in confusion as you looked to Jungkook. The two of you weren’t technically dating, sure, you hang out all the time and have sex but you’ve never actually considered yourselves in a relationship. You thought you’ve made it clear that this was fun and maybe you’re to blame for possibly leading him on but he’s never referred to you as his girlfriend or partner.
If he has been saying that to his friends then you would like to have a talk with him about where the two of you stand before it happens again. You leaned back against Jungkook’s chest trying to look at him but before you could say something he planted a quick kiss on your lips making you forget your own words.
Jungkook knew that your pretty mind was thinking about what his friends were saying and he just wanted to tell you not to worry about any of it. Of course he tells his friends you’re his girlfriend but it’s not like he’s begging you to be. He knows that you had a rough break up with the last guy and as much as he wants to find out who he was and hurt him for hurting you
 he also had to thank him. If it wasn’t for the break up then you wouldn’t have been out that night of your kiss and he wouldn’t have met you. He knows that to you, a relationship isn’t ideal at the moment but he’s still basically forcing you into one even if you want to say you’re not dating him.
He spends all his free time with you.
He calls you and texts you all day.
He watches over you while you sleep through his new cameras.
He makes sure nobody breaks in.
He’s always around in case something happens and he knows you’re thankful for him even if you don’t really know all the things he does for you.
You began to completely tune out the rest of their talk growing bored and you resorted to playing with his hair. It was getting longer and the curls were beginning to loosen so it was easy to run your fingers through them and hold it back like you were going to tie his hair. Maybe you were acting like a kid letting him talk to his friends while also basically begging for his attention but you were just bored. His friends seemed like nice people but you weren’t really interested in their conversation. You felt bad for sort of distracting Jungkook but you didn’t stop playing with his hair, even when he smiled like a bunny at the way you pulled on a strand only to release it and watch it recoil.
You brushed his hair back tucking some of it behind his ear and just like that, your hand seemed to freeze.
Right there staring back at you was a small tattoo that you failed to notice before. Your nail just barely brushed over it but it was real and it’s not old. It was healed for the most part but you can still see specs of dry skin around it meaning it had to be somewhat recent.
A tattoo of Baby’s Breath flowers scattered across the back of his ear and they were small delicate drawings tucked away. How did you not notice this before?
Was it always there?
When did he do it?
It wasn’t because you said they were your favorite, right?
You understand the bouquets — despite the copious amount of them he sends you — you understand the curiosity behind plants but to get it tattooed on his own skin?
You moved your hand away and turned to face forward again as you tried to process what you just saw.
You must be imagining it. There’s no reason why Jungkook would get a tattoo of a flower you told him was your favorite. It just didn’t make sense why he would do that.
Him getting that tattoo for you [maybe?] didn’t make sense.
“What’s up?” He asked you as you stared off into space. His friends had been in their own conversation and Deftones played quietly in the background but like usual, his attention was only ever on you. Even when you’re not around he finds his mind consumed by the thought of you and there’s no escape—not that he would need to.
“Nothing,” you muttered under your breath as you played with the ring on his fingers absentmindedly. You only did this when you were lost in thought and he was curious to know what it is. If he could know every single thing you think about then he would feel much more at ease.
You were being so cute right now even if you weren’t talking. You were sweet and pliant, sitting on his lap letting him hold you and kiss you like his pretty little girlfriend that you were. He sincerely regrets inviting his friends over because all he would like to do is kick them out so he could be alone with you again.
“Actually,” you whispered making his head perk up to listen, “Can we talk?”
“Of course,” Jungkook didn’t hesitate to stand up with you against him as he looked to his friends, “We’ll be right back.”
You followed Jungkook down the hall into his familiar bedroom with the black silk bed sheets and band posters on the walls. This time around there was a new picture frame on his desk and it was one of you and him. You seemed to be asleep in the picture with your head resting on Jungkook’s naked chest near his piercings. He had a tattooed hand in your hair and you can just tell his touch was gentle. You can’t remember when he would have taken that but he had the picture framed.
In the corner of his nightstand was a vase filled with Baby’s Breath and for the first time since you met him did you actually feel the suffocating nature of his affection. Just earlier you were saying how much you enjoyed him and yet right now it’s starting to hit you that this might not all be normal.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked gently as he watched you look around his bedroom, a smile on his face.
You didn’t know where to begin so you started with the first thing that confused you today.
“Your friends called me your girlfriend,” you said, “And I
 well alright whatever, it’s fine but we’ve never talked about a relationship, you know?”
“I know
” Jungkook said, smile gone as he waited for you to keep going. He doesn’t understand why you feel the need to clear it up, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. It’s the truth even if you hate to admit it.
“You know?” You asked, “So why did your friends call me your girlfriend? And why did they say they’ve been waiting to meet me for a while no—“
Jungkook released a soft chuckle as he came up to you, brushing your hair back, “I don’t know, maybe they just assumed because I talk about you a lot. I didn’t know I couldn’t even talk about you to my friends.”
“That’s not the problem Jungkook,” you took a deep breath in thought, trying to gather the right words, “What about the flowers?”
“What about them?”
“I appreciate the gesture, I really do but you don’t
 you know you don’t have to give me some all the time,” you said with your arms crossed over your chest self consciously, “And the tattoo.”
“Tattoo?”
Jungkook was playing dumb and he was doing a hell of a good job at it. He’s not sure what your deal is or why you suddenly look uncomfortable next to him but you need to stop. Everything’s fine, you’re making yourself worked up and he doesn’t get why.
“Behind your ear,” you clarified, “Of the flower? When did you get that?”
He shrugged, “A week ago, maybe? Do you like it?”
“What is it?” You needed to hear him say it. He stared at you blankly as he took another step toward you.
“Baby’s Breath, I didn’t know they were my favorite too until you came along,” he said and before he could take another he asked, “Are you alright? You seem a little shaken up.”
“I just need a minute,” you said, missing the way his dark eyes hardened as he watched you step back from him. With a clenched jaw he nodded, “Alright, take all the time you need. I’ll just be out there.”
You didn’t say anything as you went ahead and took a seat on the edge of his bed hearing the sound of the door click shut behind him. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. He can have a flower tattoo
 no big deal.
Even if it’s the same flower he’s delivered practically a hundred bouquets of to you.
Even if he asked what your favorite flower was.
It’s a basic flower you’re overthinking it.
Jungkook looked at his two friends who busied themselves with bottles of Soju and his large television. They didn’t even bother to turn his music off either and now Ever by Team Sleep was playing at an annoyingly high volume with the tv on too.
Yoongi was laughing over something Namjoon said, he looked up just in time to find Jungkook standing only a few feet away from them, keeping still. He still smiled with the urge to laugh as he asked, “Everything good? You want another drink?”
“Actually, I think it’s time you leave,” Jungkook said coldly yet his two friends barely flinched, waving him off with a hand. It’s not like they weren’t used to his quick mood changes, they’ve known him too long to not read the signs. He’s a little intense and serious but he’s also a loving kid at heart. He doesn’t know how to express anything properly, he just knows how to do it in the extreme. He’s annoyed by something right now but give him a drink and he’ll get over it.
Namjoon extended out a glass of Soju to him, “One more.”
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second as you tried to clear your head. You were overthinking shit, you don’t even want this. You like him but a relationship?
Alone in his bedroom you could really picture this as yours. It’s crazy how identical they are and it was a good distraction to keep you from going back out there and telling him you would just like to go home for the night. Standing up you walked over to the window finding it strange to view your own apartment out the window.
You took a step away turning instead to look at his desk which was unorganized and filled with tattoo sketches from when he does work at home. Now you were being nosy, you were trying to stall your departure but the picture frame of you on his desk was just staring at you. You picked it up to get a better look but the lights reflection was too bright. With squinted eyes you turned it down and popped the back off hoping to see the picture without the glass in the way.
Instantly, three matching 4x6 pictures fell out of the open frame with their backs facing up. You assumed Jungkook just continued to put new pictures over the old ones instead of switching them out.
Worried he would catch you snooping, you bent down to pick the pictures up, turning them your way.
Jungkook took a deep breath as he stared at the two of them unamused, “I said, I think it’s time you leave.”
He knows you’re upset and something tells him he’s to blame so he needs to figure out what. He can’t focus on you while his friends are here trying to expose and ruin everything he has built up with you.
Why did they have to call you his girlfriend and why are you being such a bitch about it?
He fucking hated flowers yet he wanted to get something you love permanent on his skin and you want be mad?
He can’t catch a break. First you can’t even remember him, then you make him worried sick whenever you’re at home alone or with one of your friends. He’s tried so hard to not be the possessive boyfriend but goddamn is he sick of watching your bedroom camera footage and seeing you laughing and hanging with Taehyung every other night.
Now you can’t even be appreciative of the very kind and thoughtful gesture of putting a permanent mark of what your relationship was on his neck? All of his tattoos have a meaning and yours means the most yet you want to question why he would even get it? You’re very lucky he’s able to play things off to save himself from embarrassment. You didn’t recognize his gesture and instead questioned him, turning it from romantic to strange.
He’s just annoyed at this point but he knows that once he gets you to relax everything will be fine. You’re like a little kitten, if he pushes too hard you draw back so he has to ease you into this like he’s done since the beginning.
“Oh,” Namjoon was stunned as his eyes trailed back to Jungkook’s room where you had closed yourself on for some reason. He wondered for a moment if the two of you were in a fight because Jungkook looked so happy earlier and now he just looks on edge. Yoongi and Namjoon shared a similar look as they slowly came to accept it despite how strange he was acting, “Okay.”
“Are you guys alright?” Yoongi couldn’t help but ask as he got up to leave. Jungkook forced a smile, “Yeah, Y/n’s not feeling good though.”
Namjoon seemed to relax, “Really?”
“She did seem kind of quiet
” Yoongi said as his friend nodded in agreement.
You felt stuck, you couldn’t tear your gaze away and you couldn’t even try to move your body.
The first picture was alright, it was the same picture of you in his arms, it was normal.
The second one was
 alarming? It was a zoomed in picture of your bedroom window with you sitting at your vanity doing your makeup to go out. You were looking at yourself and you were holding a lipgloss or something, you couldn’t tell with the window frames in the way.
The third was where your blood seemed to run cold. Right there in black and white was a clear and up close picture of you sleeping in your own bed. It wasn’t taken by someone next to you but more so it was an angle that looked like it was hidden.
Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair as his friends finally left and he prepared to see what was on your mind. He let himself back into his bedroom quietly, clicking the door shut and smiling warmly, “Kay, it’s just us, you can come out now.”
He turned to you calmly, eyes locking on the three photos in your hands and the empty picture frame laying on his desk.
Oh.
You found his favorite pictures.
“What are these?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady and calm, “Are you stalking me?”
“Not exactly,” Jungkook sighed in defeat, “It’s just
”
He took a step toward you and you immediately put your hands up in defense. He practically giggled as he moved your hands away, “Stop messing around, I’ll explain.”
“Don’t touch me,” you said, taking a step away, “Do you have a camera in my room?”
Jungkook wasn’t smiling anymore, “Why can’t I touch you? I’ll explain, just relax.”
“I’m not going to relax, Jungkook, I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on,” you told him moving closer to the front door with him circling you like a predator watching its pray waiting to attack.
“Yes, I put a camera in your room but I was just worried,” he said with a laugh like he was shy to admit it, “I just kept thinking of something happening to you in your dreams and—look, stay calm, I’m just being honest, isn’t that what you wanted?”
You were itching to leave because suddenly there’s something deep in your gut telling you that this guy really is weird. Was he really trying to justify a literal crime? How crazy was he?
He’s so calm too and he’s smiling and laughing like it’s all just no big deal even though you’ve just learned he’s got cameras watching you in your own home.
You didn’t want to know anything more at the moment. To be honest you were just freaked the fuck out and ready to just leave and get away from him. You needed to find that camera too or else you think you’ll faint from wondering if this was actually happening or not. His friends weren’t even here anymore to hear you two talk.
Jungkook watched as you reached for the door and before either of you knew it, he was on his feet moving to stop you. His arms wrapped around your body, trapping your arms at your sides and carrying you away from the door. You immediately went to scream but his hand came up around your mouth as he walked over to his bed, “Shhh, I’m not gonna do anything, babe, you know me. I just don’t want you leaving while we’re trying to have a conversation.”
“What was I saying?” Jungkook asked himself as he let his hand fall from your mouth, “Oh! You know, I never meant to do that but I was just never able to stop thinking about you. I wanted to be close with you even when I couldn’t be and I had to think of a way to do that.”
“From the very first moment I saw you and we kissed, I just
 well it’s just hard to believe we’re not meant to be together,” Jungkook said, staring off at the pictures in your hand, “I mean moving in next door was really just by chance but isn’t it so crazy that fate wanted us to find each other. You still don’t believe it?”
“You’re crazy,” you muttered fighting back a tear as you pushed back at him. His hold on you loosened at your words and you took the chance to get up but he was right there in front of you with widened eyes.
“I’m not crazy,” he said with a shaky voice like he was truly becoming more unhinged by the second, “I’m in love.”
Each step you took back he took one forward and you wanted to run out the door but you couldn’t. It’s like you were completely stuck trying to figure out what to do. It’s crazy how your best friends always joked about him being a stalker but for him to actually set up cameras specifically to watch you? That was more than what you ever imagined and you were so scared. What other pictures or videos did he have of you? What did he do with them?
Jungkook knew you were incapable of running. You love him too and he knows it, maybe you didn’t in the beginning but now you’re clearly attached to him just the same and you’re so surprised you’re not running. You want to run but you can’t deny that you have really grown to love him and if he has to show you how far he’ll go to make you love him back he will. He dropped down to his knees in front of you taking your hands in his and gripping them tightly against his chest when you tried to yank them back.
“Jungkoo—“
“I’ll change,” Jungkook said and you watched the way his eyes seemed to redden and shake from how hard he was trying but to cry or go crazy, “I’ll change Y/n, I promise. I’ll be better. I’ll—“
“No, it’s too late, I can’t. You’ve been stalking me! Do you get that? I’m not just going to change my mind Jungkook,” you tried to say but he wouldn’t let go. He only moved closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he clung to you from the floor down on his knees for you.
“I love you, Y/n, please just give me a chance,” Jungkook said as you tried shaking him off.
“I don’t love you Jungkook, I never wi—“
“I don’t care!” He shouted making you jump at the sudden rise of his deep voice, hands tightening on your hips, eyes wide and red, close to tears and unblinking, “You don’t have to love me back as long as you let me love you.”
“That’s so fucked,” you nearly cried but he wouldn’t let up.
“Y/n.”
You looked down at him and in truth he looked like he was close to snapping and you were scared. He had such a strong idea about romance and love and soulmates that he doesn’t even care if you don’t feel the same. That’s sad and pathetic. This wasn’t the Jungkook you had started to fall for.
You never expected him to be like this, he wasn’t dangerous or putting you in harms way he’s just
 he’s just really fucking delusional and that’s what’s scary. You don’t know what he’ll do. He’s never made you feel unsafe like he is right now.
“Don’t you realize that there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you to let me love you,” Jungkook said seriously, “I’ll show you it all.”
He’s been very tame till now. He’s tried so hard to be gentle and loving in front of you but you’re making it so hard right now to keep the act up. He never wanted to scare you but if you really do try and walk out that door and think he’s going to let you
 you’re dead fucking wrong.
“Jungkook
” he clung to you, face pressed against your lower stomach not letting you move, “This isn’t normal.”
“Y/n if you try to leave me,” his voice was cracking, close to breaking and his entire body trembled, “I won’t be able to live without you, please
”
He was insane. You know he’s crazy, you know he’s just trying to scare you into not running out that door and you hated to admit that it was working. He just seemed so unhinged right now and the way his body was trembling and voice breaking as he hugged you so tightly, you really are scared he might do something to himself. It’s not something you want to risk by leaving, who knows what he’ll do to himself.
Unsure of what to do, you dropped a shaky hand into his hair, brushing it back as he cried, “I’ll change, I swear. You can’t leave me, I can’t live knowing you aren’t with me.”
You’ve heard so many stories about people trying to leave their partners and it only ended up with them in the news with old pictures of them smiling as people talked about how much they missed them and you really couldn’t do that. If he can’t have you
 how do you know that means he’ll let someone else have you? He’s never made you fear for your life
 he seemed so normal, not like this deranged man who’s been caught having secret cameras watching you.
With a shaky breath, you slowly letting your hands hug around his neck, “Shh, it’s alright
”
Your voice trembled in fear as you slowly dropped to your knees feeling him sob against you, “We—We’ll
 let’s figure this out, okay? Just calm down, take a deep breath.”
“Y/n, I love you,” he hiccups as you could his face trying to wipe away tears as you dropped to your knees. Now that you’ve got a clearer head you can hear the stupid band he’s obsessed with still playing from the living room. His silver chain that you always played with still shimmered in the light and you hooked your fingers around it to remind him that you’re cooperating.
You’ve just now noticed that his Deftones’ Around the Fur tee was drenched in his tears along with the front of your jeans and you very carefully wrapped your arms around him, “I’m not leaving.”
He didn’t care if it was out of love or fear, he held you tightly nevertheless, not letting you go as he tried to kiss you only for you to flinch back. Scared he wouldn’t like that, you forced yourself to lean into him for a kiss, tasting his dry, salty tears on your lips.
He smiled his same stupid bunny smile—like everything was right in the world and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve been dreaming of you and me like this for so long time, baby, don’t you ever try to leave me again, okay?”
“Okay, why don’t we lie down? It’ll make you feel better,” you whispered gently and his dark eyes seemed to water and lower lip quiver as he nodded his head. Letting you lead him to his own bed and when you lied down, he went between your legs, keeping you pressed against the bed trapped.
That’s what being with him would feel like, like you’re trapped and all he’ll think about would be how he finally found the one that he’s been searching for. No bells chimed or birds sang, only Romantic Dreams by Deftones was heard playing in the background.
::.
listen y’all this is long 😭 I know it is and as of right now I have no desire to write a part two so it’s open ended. also idk how I feel about this yet but Jungkook is so hot. anyway the taglist is too long so I have to do it in parts.
so sorry to whoever took the time to read this I’m so sorry
personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog g @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802 @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling
fic taglist: @beshy02 @jooniesxbby @ebony3-blog @loonehbleus @klutzymermaid @tarotcoconut @whipwhoops @wdym-ree @somehowukook @fxirytaetae @nochuel @thaiika @ilove-tae @taeyongzodiactinkiri @gamer-carat @jungkookieeee97 @l0cal101 @justinseagul1 @haileycannotcometothephonern @minayas1998 @autumnbear @urf1lterr @yoongiwantsme @wnderkoo @theblueslytherin @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @8makes1scream @yjwonnn @blueberry711 @kimchimtae @babyitscoldoutside @simple-day-dreamer @yoongisgirl @ackercute @glitterkoo @darkuni63
[taglist is too long and I can only do 50 so I have to add the rest of y’all in a reblog]
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girlivealwaysbean · 3 months ago
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btw everyone was right about this is me trying. it fucking slaps
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nhaaauyen · 7 months ago
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is it casual now? àż àż”*:
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modern sev x reader au: after a shitty day at work, you go to the beach to release some stress, only for a certain coworker to show up.
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series masterpost: floating wc: 4.2k author's note: everything that happened in this fic did actually happen with a girl I was seeing LMAOO (except for the kiss cause i was too shy) but i’ve been wanting to write an ode to this memory for so long! though the title was named after casual by chappell roan, i actually don't recommend you listen to it when you read this because this is anything but casual ~ My Song Recommendation
Sev: Why are you at the beach at 11PM? You: ? You: Why can't I be? Sev: Because it closes at 12am Sev: And you said before you don't go out past 11PM on workdays You: I didn't know you worked for the beach patrol Sev: Lol
You stare at your phone screen, watching the three message dots bounce back and forth. You know you're being an asshole, but you can't help the snappiness in your tone. Sevika never cared or talked to you outside of work before, so why does she suddenly care now?
The typing bubbles disappear and relief washes over you, but a small, masochistic part of you wishes she'd actually sent something.
Sev: Are you good?
The three-word question glares at you from the screen. 
Are you good? Absolutely not. 
But this is Sev, the woman who doesn't bother with greetings or a courtesy "How are you" despite working together for months. How do you answer a question that could unravel the emotions you're barely keeping at bay, especially to someone who's never asked before?
You: Yeah  You: I'll go soon so you don't have to stalk my location haha Sev: Alright
You stare at the tiny message bubble until the blue light stings your eyes. Finally, you shut off your phone and toss it onto your makeshift blanket.
The beach is eerily quiet save for the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery glow across the water and illuminating the foam as it rushes up the sand. You sit there as the incident at work replays in your mind for the hundredth time. Your head server's harsh words, the embarrassment of being scolded in public, the shame from how quick you were brought to tears - it all comes rushing back, making your chest tighten. 
The cool sand beneath your fingers grounds you somewhat and you inhale deeply, letting the briny scent of the ocean fill your lungs. 
A cool breeze picks up, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You shiver as you sit there, feeling small and vulnerable, and you can't help but wonder how you'll face everyone tomorrow. The thought makes your stomach churn, and you close your eyes, trying to shut out the world for just a little longer.
As you close your eyes, a new sound cuts through the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. The crunch of rubber tires over pebbles grows louder, and suddenly, a bright light washes over you. You squint, momentarily blinded by the harsh glare of headlights.
"You really had to make me search for you, Pagli?"
Your head whips around in shock, eyes wide as you see Sevika stepping out of her car. You scramble to your feet, brushing sand from your clothes.
"Sev? What are you— You didn't have to come here," you protest.
She approaches with a casual shrug. "Well, too bad, cause I was near here anyways. Had to make sure you weren't drowning or joining a beach cult."
You can't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. "A beach cult? Really?"
"Hey, you never know," Sevika retorts with a smirk. "I don’t know what you like to do late at night."
You shake your head, trying to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. You should go home."
"Nah, I think I'll stick around," she says, plopping down on the sand next to where you were sitting. "Unless you've got some secret midnight rituals planned?"
You roll your eyes, but feel your resolve weakening. "You're stubborn as hell, you know that?"
"Part of my charm," Sevika replies with a wink. "Now, are you gonna sit back down, or do I have to drag you?"
After a moment's hesitation, you sigh and lower yourself back onto the sand. "Fine, you win. But don't expect me to be good company."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Sevika says softly, her tone gentler than before. "But I'm here if you want to talk. Or not talk. Whatever you need."
“I’m good.”  You replied.
“Fine with me.” 
As you sit in silence, Sevika reaches into her pocket and pulls out a joint. You can't help but shake your head in disbelief.
"You're unbelievable," you mutter.
She glances at you, eyebrow raised. "What?"
"Do you just have an unlimited source of that or something?"
Sevika just shrugs, a small smirk playing on her lips as she places the joint between them. As she fumbles for her lighter, she catches you staring and pauses.
"Do you want some?" she offers casually.
You hesitate, fingers fidgeting in the sand. "No... uh, I never tried."
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Serious?"
"Yeah," you admit, feeling a bit self-conscious.
Sevika's expression softens slightly. "Well, Pagli, I'm in a sharing mood, so..."
You shake your head quickly. "Nah, I'm gonna embarrass myself. I don't know how to..."
"It's easy," she assures you. "Just inhale, hold it for a bit, and release."
You eye the joint warily. "Uh, shit... Yeah sure."
Instead of handing it over, Sevika brings the joint to her lips and lights it. You watch intently as she demonstrates, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she inhales. She holds it for a moment, then slowly exhales a stream of smoke into the night air.
Your eyes are fixed on her, taking in every detail of the process. There's something almost mesmerizing about the way the smoke curls from her lips, dissipating into the darkness.
Sevika turns to you, holding out the joint. "Your turn, if you want."
You hesitate, your heart racing a little. Part of you wants to refuse, to play it safe knowing that you wouldn’t risk humiliation in front of your coworker when you end up messing up, but another part of you was just completely over this day.
Slowly, you reach out and take the joint from her fingers, your skin brushing against hers for a brief moment.
You take the joint, bringing it to your lips with nervous anticipation. Trying to mimic Sevika's actions, you inhale deeply. Immediately, your eyes go wide as the smoke hits your lungs. You start coughing violently, your throat burning.
To your surprise, Sevika gently pats your back. "It's okay, Pagli! Damn. You just gotta practice some more."
As your coughing subsides, you realize this is the most Sevika has ever talked to you. It's oddly comforting, despite your embarrassment. You hand the joint back to her and she casually takes a puff, with her head leaning back slightly as she exhales.
"You're not cold?"
"No, why?" you ask, puzzled.
She gestures at your outfit. "Because you haven't changed out of your work uniform."
Instead of answering - because you know where that conversation would lead - you reach for the joint again. This time, you focus intently on mimicking Sevika's technique. You inhale, hold it for a moment, and exhale. There's still a slight cough, but it's significantly better than your first attempt.
"Hell yeah!" you exclaim, feeling a small surge of pride. "I sorta did it!"
Sevika gives you a half-grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "See? You're gonna be a pro soon." She pauses, her grin widening slightly. "But you're gonna get super hungry later at this rate."
Your eyes widen as realization hits you. "Oh fuck, you're right. I didn't bring any food," you say, a slight pout forming on your lips.
"I brought something," she offers, "but in exchange, you have to tell me what's going on."
You roll your eyes, you weren’t going to fall for that. "I can deal with it."
"Fine," she shrugs, "then no more." She makes a motion as if to put out the joint.
"What? I'm still practicing!" you protest. "What happened to trying to get me to the pro league?"
Sevika just laughs, the sound unexpectedly warm. "Sorry, there's an entry fee."
You sigh, knowing you're cornered. "Fine," you mutter, then barely above a whisper, add, "I fucked up bad at work today."
Her expression turns serious. "What do you mean?"
Taking a deep breath, you tucked a stray hair behind your ear and avoided eye contact. "There was this creepy guy at one of my tables. He kept specifically asking for random things like more napkins or refills, and I knew why he did that." You shudder slightly at the memory. "I wanted to switch with a male server, but we were too booked so I just tried to bear with it.  I didn’t think he would cross any lines since it looked like he was with family too."
Sevika listens intently as you continue, "It got too far when he kept making me uncomfortable, saying he would tip well if I gave him my number." Your hands clenched into fists in the sand. "So after I came back, I... I 'accidentally' spilled water on him."
You can't meet Sevika's eyes as you finish, "I knew it was unprofessional and petty, but I was so frustrated. After getting yelled at by the head server, it kind of hit me what I did."
As you fall silent, you feel a mix of shame and lingering anger. You wait anxiously for Sevika's response, afraid to see judgment in her eyes.
But Sevika's response catches you off guard. "He deserved it," she says firmly.
Your eyes widen in surprise. "Huh? But I made a mess because I couldn't keep my emotions in check. You know there are always going to be horrible customers..."
She cuts you off with a shake of her head. "Nah, he deserved it. It's a shame you couldn't stay to watch when I kicked him out and announced that he was trying to grope one of our servers in front of his entire family and the restaurant."
You stare at her incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. "No way? You actually did that?"
Sevika shrugs nonchalantly. "What's Silco gonna do? I'm the best general manager he's got." She pauses, a prideful glint in her eye. "Though our head server might need a bit of retraining."
You can't believe what you're hearing. Sev, the Sev, actually stood up for you. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you suddenly feel shy.
"Thank you... for that," you murmur. "It meant a lot."
She just nods in response, a comfortable silence falling between you. Sevika passes you the joint again, and this time when you take a hit, you manage to do it without coughing. 
"I did it!" you exclaim, unable to contain your enthusiasm.
"Look at you, you might get into the Olympics next." She teased.
The tension from earlier completely dissipated, and you can't help but feel a newfound appreciation for Sevika.
"Okay, you gotta slow down now. This is your first time," Sevika warns, pulling the joint away as you reach for it again.
"Nooo, give it," you whine, making a half-hearted grab for it.
She shakes her head firmly. "Nuh-uh." Sevika puts out the joint despite your protests.  Then, without warning, she announces, "I'm lying down."
"What?" you ask, confused by the sudden change.
Sevika doesn't respond, just leans back onto an apron acting as your beach blanket. After a moment's hesitation, you did the same. It's only now that you realize how close she is. You can see the rise and fall of her chest, steady and rhythmic.
You close your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you. "Do you hear that?" you murmur. "The waves sound amazing." A small giggle escapes your lips.
"It's hitting you now," Sevika observes, amusement coloring her voice.
"Shhh, Sev. Listen," you insist, your voice barely above a whisper.  If only you didn’t close your eyes at that moment, because then you would’ve seen the shy smile appear on her lips at the nickname that she only lets you use on her.
As you concentrate on the sound of the waves, you became aware that you're also following the pattern of Sevika's breathing. It's oddly comforting, this synchronicity between her, you, and the ocean.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you dare to look over at her. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize she's staring at you with those stormy gray eyes that never seem to reveal anything. The intensity of her gaze sends a jolt through you, triggering an immediate panic.
You sit up abruptly, your heart racing. Sevika follows, concern etched on her previously relaxed face. "What's wrong?"
"Uh, I'm hungry," you blurt out, desperate for a distraction.
Sevika just laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Here, I’m glad I brought this," she says, reaching into her pocket. She pulls out a colorful bag of sour gummy worms, the plastic crinkling loudly in the quiet night.
The sight of the candy, so unexpectedly bright in contrast to Sevika's stoic character, makes you laugh. You watch as she pulls out a gummy worm, the candy stretching slightly before she bites into it. The casual act feels strangely intimate in this moment, and you find yourself transfixed by the movement of her jaw as she chews.
"Want one?" she asks, holding out the bag to you.
Your fingers brush against hers as you reach for a candy, sending another small shiver through you. As you pop the gummy worm into your mouth, the burst of sour flavor feels like a shock against your tongue.
While you devoured practically half the bag, Sevika stretches languidly before lying back down on the sand. You followed suit, turning to face her. This time, feeling way less sober than the beginning, you don't shy away from her gaze.
You notice one of her usually tucked fringes has come loose, falling softly across her forehead. Your fingers twitch with the urge to brush it back, but you manage to restrain yourself.
Sevika's eyes are fixed on you, her expression softer than you've ever seen it. "I'm tired," she mumbles, her voice low and slightly husky. "I want to sleep... this feels nice."
A dopey smile spreads across your face at the sight of her uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Do it," you encourage gently.
"Wake me up in a bit?" she asks, her eyelids already starting to droop.
"Of course," you assure her.
As Sevika's eyes close, you sit there, taking in the moment. You listened to the rhythm of her breathing mix with the sound of the waves and the refreshing sea breeze. 
Suddenly, Sevika makes a noise that's almost like a whine. "It's cold," she murmurs, not opening her eyes.
"Really?" you ask, surprised.
"Yeah," she confirms. Then, to your shock, she says, "Come here."
Before you can process what's happening, Sevika is draping her red jacket over both of you. The action brings you even closer to her, and your brain struggles to keep up with this new development.
You find yourself studying Sevika's features up close. Her nose, which you've always thought was cute but never dared to admit, her long lashes resting against her cheeks, and the scar that runs across her cheekbone.
The warmth of her body so close to yours, the scent of her cologne mingling with the salt air, the soft sound of her breathing - it all combined to create a moment so intimate and unexpected that you feel almost dizzy with it. You're acutely aware of every point where your body is almost, but not quite, touching hers.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure she must be able to hear it. But Sevika's breathing has evened out, suggesting she's drifting off to sleep. You lie there, barely daring to move, caught between the desire to savor this moment and the fear of disturbing her.
You find yourself caught in Sevika's gaze as her eyes slowly flutter open. The moonlight reflects in her dark irises, creating an almost ethereal effect. 
"What are you staring at?"
Your heart skips a beat. "You," you reply without thinking, then immediately feel heat rush to your cheeks.
A smirk plays at the corner of Sevika's lips. "Mmm... you're plotting my murder, right?"
You can't help but chuckle softly. "Haha, of course.  I’ve been waiting months for this moment.”
"Damn," she sighs dramatically, through her eyes sparkled with amusement. "At least I get a gorgeous view before my final moments."
The air between you suddenly feels charged. You fall silent, profoundly aware of every breath, every subtle movement. Sevika's hair has fallen across her face, obscuring part of her scar. Without really thinking about it, you reach out, gently tucking the errant strand behind her ear.
As you start to pull your hand back, Sevika's fingers wrap around your wrist. Her touch is gentle, a stark contrast to her usual brusque demeanor. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat.
"Don't," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the soft lapping of waves.
Sevika holds your hand gently, her calloused fingers tracing over yours with surprising tenderness. She examines each fingertip as if committing them to memory. Just as you're getting lost in the intimacy of the moment, she breaks the silence.
"You got tiny ass hands, Pagli.”
You blink, taken aback. "Excuse me?"
Sevika bursts out laughing, the sound rich and wonderful. Her head tilts back, revealing a full set of stunning teeth. The sight momentarily captivates you, but you quickly recover, determined not to let her win this moment.
"You know, I was only trying to steal the gummies," you retort, trying to keep a straight face.
Her eyebrow arches challengingly. "Really? Come and get it then."
Before you know it, you're both wrestling on the makeshift blanket. Sand flies everywhere as you tussle, laughter filling the air. It's been so long since you've felt this carefree, this alive. Your worries from earlier seem like a distant memory now.
Somehow, you manage to gain the upper hand. You find yourself practically pinning Sevika down, your faces mere inches apart. You can feel her warm breath on your skin, catching the faint scent of weed. Your heart races, and for a moment, you're tempted to close that small distance between you.
Instead, you break the tension by snatching the bag of gummies from her grasp. "I win!" you declare triumphantly.
But even as you say it, the victory feels hollow. The gummy bag hangs limp in your hand as you watch Sevika accept defeat with surprising grace. She's still beneath you, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her eyes locked on yours.
You wish you could reach out and caress her face, trace the line of her scar, feel the softness of her skin again. The urge is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, unsure of how she'd react. The moment stretches between you, filled with unspoken words and possibilities.
Sevika pats the spot next to her, inviting you back. You settle in, acutely aware of her warmth beside you. Her eyes, dark and curious, search your face.
"What are you thinking about now, Pagli?" she asks softly.
Before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out. "I want to play with your hair."
Immediately, heat rushes to your face. You're about to stammer an apology when Sevika takes your hand, guiding it to her hair. The silky softness surprises you, and you can't help but run your fingers through the strands.
Sevika's eyes flutter closed, a contented sigh escaping her lips. Encouraged, you begin to gently massage her scalp, marveling at how relaxed she seems.
"What does Pagli mean?" you whisper.
A smirk plays on Sevika's lips. "Crazy girl," she replies without skipping a beat.
"Huh?!" You're not sure whether to be offended or flattered.
"It's because you do crazy and bold things. I like that about you."
Your stomach flutters with warmth at the admission. Sevika leans into your touch, murmuring, "That feels amazing."
Gradually, she shifts closer, until her head is tucked against your chest. You can feel the steady pace of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours. Without really meaning to, you find yourselves practically spooning.
As you stretch out, your feet brush against her shins, and you realize just how much taller she is. It's oddly endearing, this contrast between you. Your fingers continue their gentle exploration of her hair, occasionally trailing down to trace the curve of her neck.
The moment feels soft, intimate in a way you never expected. The sound of waves provides a soothing backdrop, and the moonlight casts a gentle glow over you both. You're struck by how vulnerable Sevika looks like this, all her usual sharp edges softened.
You want to say something, to put into words the feeling blooming in your chest, but you're afraid to break the spell. So instead, you hold her close, savoring the unexpected comfort of this moment, wondering how something so beautiful could arise from such a difficult day.
You keep replaying the moment when Sevika's strong arms practically dragged you into cuddling her. The memory sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Your hand moves almost of its own accord, slowly rubbing circles on her back. You hear her sigh contentedly, the sound filling you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the physical closeness.
Just as you're sinking deeper into this blissful moment, bright white lights suddenly flash on, startling you both. A loud voice booms across the beach: "THE BEACH IS CLOSING IN 10 MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO THE PARKING LOT."
"Urghhh," you groan.  You instinctively buried your face into your hands.
Sevika's response is even more vocal - she lets out a louder, more dramatic groan that vibrates through her chest and into yours. The sound is so unexpected and so uncharacteristically cute, that you can't help but laugh.
Your laughter seems to break the spell. Sevika lifts her head, her hair mussed from your earlier attentions, and gives you a mock glare that's softened by the smile tugging at her lips.
"What's so funny, Pagli?" she asks, her voice husky with lingering sleep.
"Nothing," you say, still chuckling. "Just... I never pegged you for a whiner."
Sevika rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it," she grumbles.
You lean in close to Sevika, whispering conspiratorially, "They can't kick us off if we hide in the sand, right?"
"Yeah, or if we stay really still," she adds, barely suppressing a grin.
You both freeze comically, trying to blend in with the beach around you. But as the final announcement blares across the sand, you finally admit defeat.
As you both reluctantly start to gather your things, you can't help but steal glances at Sevika. Her hair is tousled, her clothes rumpled from lying on the beach, and there's a softness to her expression that you've never seen before. It makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.
Just as you're about to lead the way back, Sevika suddenly grabs your hand, pulling you back towards her. Before you can react, her lips are on yours.
You were suddenly frozen, till your brain practically yelled, Fucking kiss the hot girl back you dumbass! Your hand immediately slides into her hair, and you respond back to the kiss with the same ferocity.  All the tension that's been building between you tonight finally finds its release. Her lips are softer than you imagined, moving against yours with a passion that takes your breath away.  
But the moment was short-lived when it was cut short by another blaring announcement. 
Sevika breaks away, growling, "I'm going to break that speaker."
You can't help but laugh at her annoyance, the sound bubbling up from the happiness overflowing in your chest. You lean in, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "C'mon, we can continue this later."
Sevika nods, a small but genuine smile playing on her lips. She has that look on her face, that is just so content and full of adoration that your legs practically felt like jelly.
“Race you back to the car, loser has to buy dinner!” You yell as you spirit across the sand.  
You were fortunate enough to get a head start because once Sev realized what was happening, you could already see a blur of her movement closing the distance through the corner of your eye. Your hair whipped wildly in the wind along your combined unadulterated, giddy laughters echoing in the night air.  
With her athletic build, she easily caught up to you but instead of surpassing you, her hand found yours. Her fingers intertwined with yours, fitting perfectly. The warmth of her palm against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world.
You two slowed your pace into an amble, the sound of waves fading behind you. Every so often, you steal glances at Sevika, still hardly believing this night has been real.
When her car comes into view, Sevika gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You turn to look at her, finding her eyes already on you, soft and full of something that makes you unsure of whether this moment was a dream or not.
Sevika tugs you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "We should do this again sometime," she murmurs against your skin. "Minus the getting kicked off the beach part."
You chuckle at the joke and tuck your head into her chest, listening to her heartbeat. Thump. Thump.
"Thank you," she says quietly, her voice a small murmur above your ear, "for making a shitty day end beautifully."
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. 
"Thank you for finding me."
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