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dharma-divine · 3 years

Text

Turning Page

For Liv xx

Summary: Stuck with a seemingly monotonous book as the subject for a final project, you quickly find that the prolific tale of two unlikely lovers is just what you need to pursue your romantic interest in your longtime classmate and beloved friend.

Pairing: Sam x (Female) Reader

Word Count: ~ 9,000

Warnings: 18+!!! Explicit sexual content

Notes: Thank you again @jakekiszska for helping me edit <3

“Ah, Mr. Kiszka,” your professor's booming voice echoes through the lecture hall, just as you hear the door behind you creaking open. “Nice of you to finally join us on this fine Monday morning.”

You’re seated front and center of the large classroom, so you have to fully turn around to see the piteous, wide-eyed boy standing in the entryway, the door closing behind him with a loud clammer.

“My apologies Dr. Howard,” Sam smiles meekly, his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. “I had some… car troubles.”

You glance up at the clock above him, reading that class started fifteen minutes ago.

The professor sighs, his mouth slanted in a frown.

“I’ll excuse it today,” he nods, motioning for Sam to sit in his usual spot, in the empty seat to your left. “But just this once.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sam accepts graciously, his hands folding in gratitude before he shuffles through the aisle.

He sets his backpack on the floor with a quiet thud, slumping into the chair. You try to stifle an amused giggle at his grand entrance, and he shoots you a facetious glare.

You and Sam have been friends since freshman year, meeting at the orientation for your shared literacy majors. You immediately bonded over your love of music during one of those dumb icebreaker games, and you’ve been the perfect duo since, taking almost every class you can together.

While you’re both excellent writers, Sam certainly has more of an eye for lyricism; he has a minor in music studies, and he wants to be a songwriter someday, working now as an assistant writer at a studio downtown. With his talent, you know he will end up exactly where he wants to be in the industry, and you can’t wait to see what he makes of his career.

You have your own plans laid out for your future, and while they’re not as perfectly aligned as Sam’s, you’re satisfied with your ventures thus far. You occasionally TA for Dr. Howard, having earned his favoritism with your exceptional grades in his classes, and you help tutor high school students in your free time. Your passion for writing is undeniable, and you know you’re bound to end up in a job that fulfills you just as well as Sam’s.

Even with your irrefutable love for writing though, you don’t think you would be as devoted to your work as you are if it wasn't for him being by your side through nearly all of it.

“Anyway,” your professor continues with a clearing of his throat, pointing back to the slideshow he was projecting onto the screen behind him. “For your final project, you will be analyzing and writing a report on a novel from the Romanticism movement - anywhere between 1790 and 1850.”

Your ears perk at the mention of romanticism — it’s your favorite. The sultry drama, the awe of nature, everything written in that time period is unlike any other. You wish you could simply step into the world of their incredible poems and stories and live in them forever.

“Now, this period covers a lot of ground, so I wanted to make this a bit fun,” Dr. Howard adds as he reaches under his desk and retrieves a small wicker basket, shuffling it around so you see the small slips of paper inside of it. “I’ve written the names of all of the novels I wish for you to cover, and placed them in here.”

He crouches back down, lugging up a larger cardboard box from under the desk. “The department has some copies of these novels that you may borrow. You are to pair up, blindly choose a slip at the end of class, and check out the corresponding book.”

You look over at Sam and make the nonverbal agreement that you will be partners, as if you had any other willing options.

You can hardly stay still for the rest of class, anxious to see what you will choose. You’re hoping for something especially dark and dramatic, like The Scarlet Letter or The Fall of the House of Usher.

When the time comes, you spring up from your chair, scurrying over to be the first in line. You eagerly stick your hand in the basket and shuffle around the strips for a moment before gripping one between your fingertips. You pull it out, smiling as you unravel it, though your expression quickly falls once you read its contents:

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

“What is this, high school English class?” you scoff to yourself, flipping the paper between your fingers as if there was a second choice written elsewhere.

It isn’t that you don’t like Jane Austen, she’s a brilliant romantic author— an author of true romance, of unrequited love stories that you adored reading in grade school— but it just feels a bit underwhelming compared to the countless other options you have.

“Can I choose another?” you ask Dr. Howard, who sits scrolling through the computer on his desk.

“No, ma’am, you get what you get,” he smiles politely, tilting his head down to glance over at you over his thickly lensed glasses. “That’s the fun of it!”

You puff a sigh, sulking up to the box of books. You stick your hand in and shuffle them around in search of yours, your heart lurching every time you see a title you would much rather be reaching for.

You finally find it. This copy must be at least half a century old, its spine worn and delicate. You step away from the box to let the next person search, flipping through its yellowed pages as you make your way back to your seat. Many of them are dogeared, with illegible annotations scribbled in black ink throughout.

Sam is still seated, scrolling through his phone. He looks up once he notices you approaching, his brows furrowing at the sight of your disappointed face.

“What’d we get?”

“Fucking Pride and Prejudice,” you scorn, flicking the slip of paper onto the desk in front of him. “Should that even be able to count? It’s satire.”

“I guess since it’s so renowned,” Sam shrugs as he leans forward to study the slip himself. “It’s not the worst choice. At least we didn’t get, like, Frankenstein or something.”

“Sam, I would’ve much preferred Frankenstein over this,” you inform, stuffing the book in your bag.

He contorts his face in clear disagreement, which causes you to giggle.

“Come on,” you say, snagging your bag from your chair. “Let’s get this over with.”

With this being the last project of the semester, you want it done as quickly as possible, especially with the assumption that the work won’t be very enjoyable.

“Meet at West Oak?” you ask Sam as you wait for him to gather his things, suddenly craving a warm cup of tea and a pastry from your favorite café.

With your nearly perfectly aligned schedules, neither of you have any other classes for the day, so you’ve made it a habit to hang at the library or café to study and catch up on whatever you’ve missed from each other over the weekend.

“I don’t have my car,” Sam reminds you as falls into step at your side.

“Oh, I thought that was just an excuse,” you laugh, filing in line towards the door.

“No, well, I wasn’t having mechanical troubles,” he explains, stepping past you to hold the door open, letting you walk through first from underneath his extended arm. “My problem is Josh. He took it to go visit our parents, without telling me, of course.”

You throw your head back in a laugh. Sam has two older twin brothers, Josh and Jake. They both graduated a few years back, Jake in sound engineering, and Josh in performance arts. Josh is now working as head of your university’s theater department, and Jake is an audio tech at the same studio as Sam, so the twins live together just up the road from you. You have hung out with them multiple times since befriending Sam, and you’ve come to learn that they are both just as talented and intelligent as him, but perhaps a bit spastic — Josh especially. You recall a few months ago when Sam told you that Josh had wrecked and totaled the Jeep he had gotten as a graduation present from their parents. Luckily he wasn’t injured, but they’ve been hesitant to get him another car since. You suppose the issue still stands.

“He stole it right out of the parking garage. I called and he said Jake dropped him off after refusing to let him take his. His excuse for not telling me was he was ‘running late’,” Sam rolls his eyes, air-quoting the last part. “I should have the bastard arrested for theft, I had to walk here.”

You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics. The brothers are always having some sort of conflict, though it never amounts to anything serious, and it goes as nothing but entertainment for you.

“All that trouble, I would’ve just skipped,” you say as you skip through the foyer and out into the chilly winter air.

Holiday break is rapidly approaching, and the treetops and roofs of the buildings around you are dusted lightly with the first fall of snow.

“I could have,” Sam replies, and you notice his pace slows a bit, so you turn around to glance over at him. “But it’s my favorite class, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

He’s giving you this look that he does sometimes, and it never fails to catch you off guard. It’s something about how his usual deep brown eyes suddenly brighten to a warm honey, and how the crescent lines on the sides of his mouth deepen with his lips curved into the softest smile. It gives you an indiscernible feeling deep in the pit of your stomach, like he’s just flattered you.

You don’t let your thoughts wander, and you hope you haven't been staring too long when you clear your throat, motioning to your car parked in the lot across the courtyard.

“Well, don’t worry about it. I can drive.”

The drive there is filled with your usual nonsense chatter, with your music playing softly in the background. You ask about Sam’s holiday plans, and if he’s started Christmas shopping yet.

“Not yet,” he laughs from the passenger seat. “I’m not the best gift giver. But we’re renting a cabin with my grandparents for a week, and I’m really excited. It’s gorgeous, deep in the Huron mountains. Have you been?”

“No, I haven’t,” you smile as you pull into the parking lot of West Oak. “But that sounds lovely.”

“Well, maybe we can go sometime,” Sam offers, and you freeze, even with his nonchalant tone. “It’s beautiful year round.”

“Yeah,” you reply a bit too quickly, and you cringe at how your voice goes up a few octaves. “That would be fun.”

You try to not let yourself deliberate your overzealous reply too much as you twist the steering wheel into the first parking spot, switching off the engine and gathering your things.

“I’m gonna go find us a spot,” you say over your shoulder as you enter the café, leaving Sam to stand in the order line. “Get me usual?”

“Earl grey and danish,” Sam answers, shooting his finger at you to verify.

“You got it,” you point back with a smile. “Whatever flavor they have today.”

You walk through the array of tables, scanning for anything available. It’s a bit busy, but you get lucky and snag one by the window in the far back room, just as a sweet looking elderly couple is leaving it.

You settle down in the chair and pull the needed contents out of your bag: your laptop, a notebook and pens, and…the book.

You sigh as you stare at it, examining it more attentively than when you first laid eyes on it earlier. It’s cover is printed with a marbled design that looks as if someone dipped a paintbrush in a mixture of blues and reds and twirled it across the buckram. The name of the novel is printed in silver, against a ruby red square in its center, with delicate embellishments etched along the edges.

You turn the book in your hands to look at its spine: the same ruby red and dainty adornments, with three navy blue squares, one highlighting the name of its renowned author, the second its printing company, and the last acknowledging its illustrator.

Illustrator? You don’t remember seeing pictures. You flip the book open again, shuffling through its fragile pages until you come across a few that have a firmer, glossy texture, their pastel colors standing out immediately.

You study the delicate prints. One shows Elizabeth, the sharp- witted main character of the story. She’s wearing a pale yellow dress, with frilly lace trimmings and feathered, sumptuous bonnet tied to her head, its pink ribbon streaming down her shoulders. Her expression is wistful, her doe eyes staring longingly into the distance as a letter hangs loosely from her delicate hands.

You remember reading about the letters, her unrequited lover spilling his heart to her through the ink. The idea of only being able to communicate through the chance of a letter strikes you as incredibly romantic. You wish more people wrote them nowadays.

The next page is of the man himself — Mr. Darcy. He looks stoic and noble, a cane tucked under the arm of his tailcoat that skirts along his white breeches, his top hat crowning a head of thick, dark curls. His face is handsome and earnest, his body and gaze facing to the side. You don’t know what scene in particular the illustration comes from, but his legs are extended as though he’s apprehensive to go somewhere. You imagine he’s on his way to Elizabeth.

You forgot how much you actually love this book. You chalked it up to you being a lovelorn teenager when you thought back to how much you enjoyed it in high school, but the story starts coming back to you as you look though the rest of the pictures. You’re admiring another handsome illustration of Darcy when you see a figure approaching from your peripherals.

“Here you go,” Sam chimes as he sets down a travel coffee cup with its paper sleeve, a foil wrapped danish balancing on its lid. “One steaming cup of earl grey, and one raspberry danish.”

He places the danish on the table once everything is set, and slides into the chair across from you.

“Thank you,” you smile, setting down the book and eagerly grabbing the tea, taking a careful sip of the steaming liquid.

“What’d you get?” you ask as you eye his cup, unwrapping your warm pastry.

“I asked the barista what her favorite drink is,” he says, picking it up and examining the label scribbled on its side.. “Caramel, praline, something. I don’t know, but it sounded good.”

He lifts the cup to his lips with both hands, his fingers lacing together to cradle it gently. It always amuses you how strangely he drinks things, almost like a child.

“Tastes good too,” he smiles. “Wanna try?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you giggle, breaking off the first piece of danish and stuffing it in your mouth. “But let’s get started on this.”

You tap the book, frowning when you suddenly realize you probably should’ve gotten two copies.

“I guess, let’s just take turns reading it?” Sam says, seeming to have the same thought as you. “We can just run through it real quick. I remember the story vaguely, but I definitely need a refresher.”

“That works,” you nod.

Coming from two literacy majors, you both can get through a book in just a few hours, so this one should be a breeze.

“Then I’ll start,” Sam offers, taking the fragile book in his hand and flipping to the first page

He clears his throat, furrowing his brow and placing a hand regally to his chest.

“Chapter One; It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

He speaks in an awful attempt at a posh English accent, and it makes you laugh. You quickly redact your regret of not getting two copies; instead of having your face buried in the text as you follow along, you’re able to watch Sam as he acts out the words. He has the book extended to his left, his free hand making dramatic gestures as he reads just loud enough to not disrupt any of the other café patrons.

Since the chapters are rather short, you decide to switch off after every two. You’re surprisingly nervous once you reach the third, wanting to keep the same theatrical energy as Sam.

“The girls grieved along over such a number of ladies,” you read along, entering the scene of the Bennett sisters meeting Mr. Bingley and company. “But were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London, his five sisters and a cousin.”

You try to mimic the same accent Sam was using, but it eventually falls apart after an attempt to stifle a laugh from hearing him snort with amusement.

“And when the party entered the assembly room, it consisted of only five altogether, Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.”

You swoon at the first mention of Mr. Darcy, smiling through your words as you continue the scene of recounts about his pompous ego, and how the Bennett family dismisses him and his arrogance. Your heart flutters at what’s to come of their relationship.

The two of you spend the next few hours going back and forth, jotting down significant parts that can be used in your report. You’re about twenty chapters deep, right at the part where Elizabeth denies marriage to Mr. Collins, the unimpressive clergyman and distant cousin to Darcy.

“I think this is a good place to stop,” you say, slapping the book shut.

Your head feels a bit hazy after concentrating so hard for so long, and you look out the window to see the sun beginning to set over the snow-dusted buildings across the street.

“Wanna meet here tomorrow to continue?” Sam asks, starting to gather your empty cups and wrappers. “You know, once I get my car back.”

“Yeah sure, and I think I have a copy of this somewhere at home,” you answer as you slide the copy over to him, thinking back to the collector's series of classics your parents gave you for Christmas one year. “It’s definitely being used as decoration on one of my shelves somewhere. So here, you take this one.”

Sam happily accepts the book, sliding into the front pocket of his book bag.

You’re pondering his idea of coming back to the café tomorrow to finish reading as you’re both putting the rest of your stuff away. You glance around at the people lingering in the café, the crowd much more sparse as closing time nears.

“Actually, how about my place tomorrow?” you ask as you’re both heading back to your car outside. “My analytics class gets out at four, you can come over after? We can get a pizza?”

Your heart picks up pace, suddenly nervous that what you’re asking sounds like you’re insinuating something that oversteps your boundaries as friends, even though the invitation is nothing new.

Sam smiles at you from across the hood of the car, gently pulling the passenger door open once you unlock it.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

It’s the next day, and you’ve just spent the three hours aggressively cleaning your apartment in anticipation for Sam coming over. You’re not sure why you feel the need to clean, he’s been over multiple times before when you’ve had your laundry strewn over the couch, and dishes in the sink, but something compelled you to today. It started by just sweeping the floor, but led to you wiping the counters, vacuuming the rugs, and replacing every air freshener and candle around your place. The space now smelt like the perfectly sweet mix of brown sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon.

You fall to the couch, sighing loudly as you wipe your brow from the labor you just endured, when you hear a knock at the door.

You freeze.

He’s here already? You reach for your phone on the coffee table, freeze at the sight of your clock — 6:15. You had agreed to meet at 6.

“Fuck,” you curse to yourself as you scroll through series of messages and missed calls from him that you had not heard as you were cleaning.

Sam

5:30: Hey, I just got my car back from Josh. I can go ahead and get the pizza. I’ll be over by 6 :)

5:45: Just picked it up! Otw now

5:55: Here

6:05: Hello??

You feel a rush of panic, looking down at your tattered sweatpants and t-shirt. This isn’t a formal occasion by any means, but you are nowhere near presentable to anyone’s standards.

“Just a second!” you call out over your shoulder.

You feel terrible for making Sam wait any longer, but you scramble off the couch and sprint to your room.

You yank off your sweats and reach for the first pair of jeans you can find, hopping into them frantically. You rip off the t-shirt and leave the tank top you have on underneath, pulling a cardigan over your bare arms before racing over to your vanity for a spritz of perfume. You catch a glimpse of your tangled mess of hair, and decide to rake your brush through it a few times before pulling it into a bun.

“Whatever,” you huff with an annoyed click of your tongue, satisfied enough with your improvement in appearance.

You pick off bits of lint and dust from your top as you shuffle over to your door, unlocking it and pulling it open to reveal Sam.

“Oh good, you’re alive,” Sam laughs, his hands gripping either side of a large pizza box. “You weren’t answering your texts, I was getting worried. I was waiting out there for like ten minutes before one of your neighbors let me in the building, said he recognized me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe, your face heating with embarrassment as you gesture at him to come inside. “I was just doing some tidying up, and lost track of time, and I guess my phone was on silent. Thank you for getting the pizza, I totally would have ordered it before if-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he politely interrupts with a dismissing wave, his tone cool and collected following your slew of excuses.

Your blush deepens as you follow him into the kitchen, watching as he peels off his jacket and sets the pizza box down on the counter.

You notice he’s wearing a cozy, white sweater that you had to borrow once, after spilling a glass of cabernet all over your sweater during an outing with him and his brothers last winter. He insisted on letting you change into it because, in his words, the giant splotch of red “made it look like you had been stabbed to death”. He had not brought a jacket though, and spent the rest of the night in just the t-shirt he had on underneath it, which included the 20 minute walk back to his place in the freezing cold. He ended up catching pneumonia the next day, and was bedridden for a week, with you routinely bringing him soup and catching him up with what he missed in class.

You reminisce on the sweet memory, until you notice him turn around to face you.

“Hungry?” Sam asks, and you realize he’s repeated himself, the pizza box flipped open.

“Oh yeah,” you finally say, stepping to look at the glorious sight of it over his shoulder, your mouth watering.

With the rumbling of your stomach, you realize you had accidentally skipped lunch in lieu of your cleaning frenzy. You reach above you to grab two plates from the cabinet, handing one to Sam.

“Starving, actually.”

The both of you split off your respective slices onto the plates and take a seat on the couch in your living room. You turn on your TV and keep it on whatever channel you had left it on, using it as background noise more than anything.

“So, how did getting your car back go?” you ask before taking the first bite from the tip of your slice.

“Oh, god,” Sam rolls his eyes, his mouth already full.

“Josh tried to convince me to let him borrow it until the weekend, but there is no fuckin’ way.”

He shakes his head with the last words, the oil from the pizza making his lips glisten. You can’t help but stare a bit as he wipes them with a napkin, but you quickly bring yourself back to the conversation before he notices.

“Aw,” you finally say, forcing a frown. “I feel bad.”

“Please, don’t,” he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “He’ll survive. Plus, I think our parents are gonna let him have their Oldsmobile, though I didn’t think that clunky thing could even run anymore.”

He gives an amused cackle after that, taking another bite.

“Well, that’s good,” you giggle, your fingers squeezing into the napkin that you have balled in your fist.

Your throat is getting dry from both the pizza and your nerves, and you realize you haven’t gotten anything to wash it down.

“Oh, fuck,” you blurt, hopping off the couch and shuffling back into the kitchen. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah, whatcha got?” Sam asks over his shoulder.

You pull open the door to your fridge, scanning your mostly barren shelves for what you have.

“Water, Sprite, lemonade…” you start listing off.

You swing open the freezer to make sure you have ice, when your eyes catch sight of a frosted blue bottle on the door.

“…Vodka?”

“Vodka!” Sam exclaims, without hesitation.

You’re usually not much of a liquor drinker, but one of your friends had left the bottle as a pregame for a night out the other week, and they told you to keep it when you tried to give it back. There’s only about a third of it left, and you’ve been meaning to polish it off, but you didn’t really consider tonight to be appropriate for that. Knowing Sam though, you’re foolish to think he would ever turn down the offer.

“Okay, but let’s not get too crazy,” you laugh, grabbing two glasses and popping the lid of the chilled bottle. “We have work to do.”

“It’ll just let us get more into character,” Sam argues, his head peering over the couch to watch you make the drinks.

“I guess you're right,” you answer, thinking back to how much you enjoyed acting the story out yesterday.

You decide to pour a bit of lemonade over the vodka, mixing the drinks with a cocktail spoon and carrying them over to the living room.

“Cheers,” you toast, handing Sam his glass as you settle back on your spot next to him.

“Cheers,” Sam answers in his terrible posh accent, clinking his glass to yours. “To romanticism.”

Of course, one drink turned into two, and two to three, and pretty soon you’re feeling the effects of the liquor. You feel yourself getting more giggly by the second, your heavy head laid against the back of the couch as you watch Sam read. He had picked up the book by his second drink, just after you ensued another reminder about the work you two had to get done.

You had agreed to stop your separate reading last night right at your favorite part in the book, where Darcy confesses his undeniable love for Elizabeth. You could go grab your copy from your room to follow along, but you’re too comfortable to bother getting up. Plus, the drinks definitely are contributing to his grand performance.

He has the book cradled in his left hand, his head bowed and lashes fluttering down at the pages. He’s given up on his accent at this point, seeming much more intrigued by the story than he was prior. You watch intently as his eyes scan over each line, lips carefully articulating each word despite his slight drunkenness. His brow raises occasionally for emphasis, the hand that’s gripping his dwindling glass of liquor moving aimlessly with the eb and flow of each sentence.

“Elizabeth could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his cousin was to go with him,” he reads with a rhythmic cadence in his voice. “But Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him.”

He tips the glass to his lips for a sip after he finishes the sentence, and being how excited you are, you take it as a chance to continue the scene yourself. You grab the book from his hand, quickly finding where he left off.

“While settling this point,” you read, your labored breathing discernible, due to either your nerves or the alcohol.

You see Sam sit back into the couch from your peripherals, his fingers lacing together in his lap as he listens.

“She was suddenly roused by the sound of the door-bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of it being the Colonel himself, who had once before called late in the evening, and might inquire particularly after her.”

You pull one of your knees to your chest and rest your chin on it, playing with the frayed trim of your jeans as you anxiously approach the climax of the story.

“But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips as you deliver the momentous line. You give Sam a quick glance just to make sure he’s just as into it as you are, but when you meet eyes, you realize he’s admiring more than just the words that you read. You have to pause for a moment to take in his expression.

He’s giving that look again, except the feeling it gives you now is nearly overwhelming. His eyes look like they’ve filled with a million stars, the whites as wide and bright as ever, especially against the frame of his dark lashes. He studies your flustered face, his supple lips curving in the slightest smile as he gives you a nod to continue. You struggle to break his gaze, but you eventually clear your throat and find where you stopped, your fuzzy mind making it a bit difficult this time.

“In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked about the room.”

You feel Sam shift his weight on the couch, but you now have the book purposely blocking his face so he doesn’t further distract you.

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in and agitated manner, and thus began—“

Before you can continue, you feel Sam’s hand grasp over yours that’s gripping the book, your knuckles white around its fragile edges with your sudden flux of emotions. You jump slightly at his touch, and you pull the book down to meet his gaze. You realize he wants you to hand it back to him.

You release it from your grip and he takes it from you gingerly, clearing his throat to continue.

“In vain I have struggled,” he reads, his tone sounding much more profound than the last time he spoke.

You see his jaw clench a bit as he prepares for the next line.

“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

His eyes linger on the page for a moment, before traveling up to meet yours. Time seems to stand still as he continues looking at you with those starry eyes, and your heart feels like it’s in your throat, its beat roaring in your eardrums.

You know he didn’t just simply read the line aloud — there was intention held in the words.

“Sam,” is all you’re able to get out, and you’re not even sure what else to say before his body practically falls into you, cupping the side of your jaw once your lips crash together.

You’re completely stunned by the sudden contact, but it doesn’t take long at all for you to melt into his touch. His lips have the gentle burn of the liquor, and they’re pillow soft against yours. You’ve been craving this, all of your presumptuous thoughts and repressed emotions towards him now flooding to the surface. Your hands begin to wander as the kiss deepens, your fingers running along the knitted ribs of his sweater before meeting the warm skin of his neck. They travel through his long strands of hair as he guides you down to lay down along the couch, his nimble legs straddling yours.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he breathes under your ear, planting soft kisses along your jaw.

You knew those lingering stares he gives you are because he’s felt the same way, but you never knew how to go about being anything more than friends. This turn of events, confessing love through the words of a prolific writer, evidently seems very on brand for the both of you.

“I imagine it’s just as long as I have,” you reply, turning his face so you can kiss his lips again.

Sam’s smiles at your answer, before his lips begin to trail down your neck as you peel off the cardigan you so hastily put on earlier. His fingertips begin lingering at the edge of your tank top, his eyes flicking up to you with hesitance.

“It’s okay,” you beam at him, nodding your approval. “Take off my clothes, Sam.”

He breathes a shallow laugh.

“You don’t have to ask me twice, princess,” he smiles, the pet name making your skin prickle with excitement.

He swiftly yanks up the tank top, and you lift up your arms to pull it off completely, tossing it to the floor below you. His eyes dazzle at your exposed chest, his lips finding your collarbone once you’ve laid back down.

“You’re so beautiful,” he swoons as he begins traveling down to between your breasts.

One of his hands reaches over to gently knead one, his mouth finding your nipple, sucking at its peak as your eyelids flutter at the pleasurable sensation. Your fingertips grip at the nape of his sweater to urge him to sit up and slip it off, yearning to feel his bare skin against yours. His lips lock yours again once it’s discarded, your hands now exploring the new territory of his chest and back.

He pays regards to your opposite breast, before he slides his body further down your frame.

“Is this okay?” he asks as he grips the waist of your jeans.

“Absolutely,” you breathe, your fingers already working to unbutton and unzip them.

You shimmy out of them once they’re loose enough, lifting yourself off the couch a bit to pull them down past your ass. Sam helps you the rest of the way, tossing them onto the floor with the rest once they’re completely off.

He lays down further, with his stomach against the couch cushion so that he’s able to lace his arms around your thighs, his head hovering between them.

You’d be lying if you say you didn’t purposely choose one of your favorite lacy pairs of panties today, just in case this exact situation were to happen. You’re grateful that you did, with the way his eyes hungrily look over the lace that hugs your hips.

He places a kiss right above their hem, his chin brushing against the tiny bow tied to its center. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or how every nerve in your body is now on full throttle, but you’ve suddenly become keenly aware of the patches of stubble that cover his chin and above his lip, the hairs prickling gently at your sensitive skin as his lips move along the thin waistband. You shiver with pleasure, tilting your head back and shutting your eyes to revel in his touch.

Sam takes his time to move his fingertips along the expanse of your tummy and hips, before he laces his fingers around the sides of the panties. He pulls them down painfully slow, the cool air hitting your freshly shaven skin.

You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t shave your entire body the night before—not that you think Sam would mind the hair, but you did it for your own gratification.

You feel Sam’s breath hitting your abdomen as he continues to pull at the lace, and you dare to glance down at him, only to find him already staring up at you. His irises dark with lust, and he keeps eye contact as he places a kiss right on your smooth skin, a moan involuntary escaping your lips at the feeling of his scruff rub against it.

He has the gall to chuckle at your display of pleasure, and it causes your cheeks to heat with frustration.

“Stop teasing me,” you beg, running a hand from the crown of his head, through the strands of his thick hair. “You know what I want.”

“Hmm,” he hums, reaching down to unloop the panties from your ankles and letting them drop to the floor. “I don’t think I do. What is it?”

He then rests his chin against where he just kissed, the hairs of his stubble pricking you almost painfully now. You squirm at the feeling, breathing out a desperate laugh, your eyes clamping shut.

“God, who are you?” you whine, blindly reaching to cup his cheek and lift his chin off of you, your fingertips running against the grain of coarse hair. “What happened to my sweet Sammy?”

“I’m still here,” he assures with a kiss to your jutted hip bone. “I just love hearing your voice.”

You consider his words for a moment.

“Oh, do you?” you smile, feeling him move back to where you want him.

With a glimmer of deviance, you glance over at the book that found its way onto the coffee table, face down on the page you left it on.

You reach over and grab it, Sam not noticing as he continues to kiss up and down your slit.

“Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression,” you begin, your voice wavering as you try to separate your concentration from his efforts. “She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent.”

Your lips curving in a smirk when you feel Sam stop what he’s doing, and you move the book to look down at his beaming face.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he breathes, clearly proud of you for coming up with such an idea.

He quickly bends back down to continue lapping at you, and you try your best to focus back on the book.

“Then he considered sufficient encouragement;” you continue, your breath enveloping each word as his mouth works fervidly against you. “And the avowal of all he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed.”

You only get through a few more lines before his tongue flicks directly onto the bud of your clit, and you suck in a sharp breath. Your voice staggers more and more with each sentence, your fingers shaking as it flips the page.

“In spite of her deeply rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man’s affection–mmm, Sam,” your concentration lapses with a moan when he hits your sweet spot again.

You feel his lips vibrate in a laugh before he lifts himself from you.

“What was that?” he quips with a devious inflection that you’ve never heard from him.

But then again, there’s a lot of firsts happening tonight.

You pull the book away from you once more, just to see him smirking up at you, his swollen lips slick with your wetness.

“Am I a character in this book?”

You blush, running your fingers back through the top of his hair.

“Shut up,” you jest, gently pressing his head back down.

He obeys, but not without a cocky brow raise, his lips reuniting with your heated skin.

You barely make it through the end of the next page before you’re completely tripping over your words, the sentences not making any sense with the amount of whimpers and moans that escape between each syllable.

You finally slap the book closed and toss it over the side of the couch when you feel one of Sam’s slender fingers sink into the depths of your core. He slowly pumps it in and out of you, your moans, mixed with the lewd sounds of his workings, filling the room around you as you feel your core begin to tighten.

He manages to work in another digit after a moment, and your nails reach to dig into the flexed muscles of his shoulders as their rhythm quickly syncs with the pace of his tongue.

“I’m gonna,” you pant, vivid colors painting behind your eyelids.

You can’t even finish your sentence, your body shuddering with the first surge of pleasure.

“Mhmm,” he hums against you, the vibrations sending you further over the edge. “Come for me.”

Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, every muscle in your body lurches with waves of pleasure that course through you. Wisps of light bloom your vision for a moment, until you’re gasping for air with your come down, your body soothing into a blissful trance once your energy levels. You realize once you come to that you managed to get a painful grip at the root of Sam’s hair, and you unhinge your fingers from the tuft that you were tugging at.

“Sorry,” you breathe, your bare chest heaving as you smooth the strands out.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, placing wet kisses up your body until he’s once again at your lips, and you can taste yourself on his tongue.

You begin to lift yourself up until you’re in a sitting position, and your hands slide down Sam’s torso. Your fingertips twirl around the hairs of his happy trail, and you let them linger down to the bulge that pressed against the fabric. You push into him as you continue to lean forward, guiding him back so he’s now the one laid out along the couch.

“My turn,” you smirk as you hover over him, planting a kiss along the curve of his neck. You smell his cologne lingering on his skin as you run the kisses down his chest and stomach, right down to where your fingers were playing before.

You help him zip his fly down, and he does the same shimmy you did, the jeans slipping with ease from his slim waist. He kicks off the legs and is left with only his briefs, the outline of his member stretching the cotton it’s strained against. You bend down and kiss him through the fabric, before gripping the stretchy waistband and gently pulling it down. His hard cock springs out, slapping lightly against his abdomen. You eye him zealously, your fingers wrapping gently around his shaft to tip it towards you. Your mouth is already salivating, and you lean forward to let a bead of spit drip from your open mouth.

You flick your eyes up to him, and you're delighted to see that he’s watching you, his mouth agape. You smile at him as your hand begins traveling up and down, slicking him in your saliva. You finally press your lips to his head, your tongue slipping out from your lips and swirling around the tip. Your hands continue to work his shaft as you push him further into your mouth, until you feel him in the back of your throat and you have to brace your hands on his hip bones as you fight your gag reflex. Pulling him back out through hollowed cheeks, you release him from your pursed lips with a lewd pop. You continue the cycle a few more times, your eyes streaming with tears with each plummet. You glance up again and meet the expanse of his neck this time, his head tilted back with the swell of his Adam's apple bobbing as he desperately swallows a moan. His long hair pools around his lean shoulders, beads of sweat glistening on his chest. As soon as you feel him begin to throb inside your mouth, he latches his hand around a section of your hair and swiftly pulls you up from him, the taste of his precum left on your tongue once you release. His hand let go of your hair to grip the back of your neck, guiding you up his body so your legs straddle him, your core against his slickened shaft.

You begin to rock your hips against him as your lips lock once more, the tastes of each other intermingling. You whimper with the sensation, still a bit sensitive from your first come up. His lips latch onto your collarbone as you continue to grind into him, until you feel properly warmed back up.

“Do you want me to put on a condom?” he breathes when your hand reaches down to line him up with your entrance.

“You don’t have to,” you pant, staring to tease yourself with his cock.

You, of course, trust each other to be clean, and you’ve been on birth control since a teenager. If any further anxiety lingers in the next morning, you have some morning after pills stashed in your bathroom cabinet.

“Okay,” he smiles, pulling your lips back to his.

You proceed to ease him in, moaning at how good it feels to finally have him inside of you. You roll yourself up and down his length a few times until you’re acclimated enough to sit down at his base. You continue the motion of grinding yourself against him, feeling him deep inside of you now, your head tipping back with a few escaped moans and whimpers. With your eyes still closed, you feel his fingers snake around your exposed throat and pull you forward. He kisses you deeply, still squeezing at your neck, now having the leverage to gyrate his hips and pull himself in and out of you. Your mouth dips back open when he begins to quicken the pace, and you push yourself fully onto him again, using your folded knees to bounce yourself along his length. You grab at your bouncing breasts, beads of sweat dripping between them and tickling down your stomach. He still has a grip on your neck, his other elbow propped behind him and his abs flexing to hold the position. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, squeezing the tendrils of muscles.

You’re suddenly being pushed backwards after a few more sinful moments, with Sam still inside of you and wrapped around your throat, your position seesawing once more so that you land with your back along the cushion. You don’t know how he even managed such a move, but you don’t have much time to ponder it as he thrusts deeply into you. You hike your legs around his waist, and the new angle lets him hit just the right spot. He lets go of your neck only to nurse his fingers into your mouth, pulling them out once your tongue has lapped around them. He lowers his hand, and you feel the slick pads of his fingers swirl against your throbbing clit. He continues the motion as he thrusts harder into you, the sound of your skin slapping together striking your eardrums. The addition of his fingers has your next climax rapidly building again, and you know he must be getting close when his rhythm begins to unravel.

“Come for me again,” he pleads, the veins in his neck protruding, his cheeks and chest rosy and sheened with sweat.

“I’m gonna,” you cry back, just as the first shudder courses through you.

You can tell he does his best to ride you through it, but he can only last a few more thrusts before he pulls out of you, his fingers leaving your clit to grip at the frame of the couch. You quickly reach down to stroke him, until you feel ribbons of warmth lap onto your stomach, a moan of relief escaping his lips.

You both sit there panting for a moment, his hands planted on either side of you so as to not hinder the mess. His hair hangs down and tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you, and you reach up tuck the stands behind his ears.

“That was incredible,” you breathe, turning over to grab your tank top from the floor.

You use it as a makeshift towel, wiping down your stomach and tossing it back into the floor, making a mental note to do some more laundry in the morning.

“It was,” he agrees, planting a kiss on your forehead before letting himself collapse to the side, between you and the back of the couch. “I can’t believe we just did that.

You giggle, hiking your thigh up to rest it against his abdomen.

“We neither.”

There isn’t a lot of room on the couch to lay comfortably together, so you decide to get up, extending a hand to guide him up as well.

“Come on, you might as well spend the night now.”

He nods his agreement with a sweet smile, and you lace your fingers together and take the lead down the hall, opening the door to your freshly cleaned clean room, the smell of sugar cookies wafting in the air with the lit candle you have on your nightstand.

You climb into your freshly made bed with Sam following suit, pulling the covers over the both of you, the fresh fabric feeling heavenly on your smooth skin.

You lean lean and snuff the candle, before crawling deeper into the bed and nestling your face into the cook of Sam’s neck.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” you mumble, the warmth of his body and soft fabric cocooned around you quickly winding you to sleep.

He presses one more kiss on top of your head, his arm cradling you.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

It’s Christmas morning, and your family is gathered around the tree to open presents. You’ve been home for about a week now, climbing the steps of your parents porch a few days after submitting your finals, the last of which being the project you completed with Sam for Dr. Howard.

You were both really proud of how it turned out, and to your delight, you got a notification in your mailbox a day later, informing that you both received an A+.

You got to spend time with Sam before the two of you parted ways for the holidays, and needless to say, you’ve fully established your relationship beyond friends. You spent most of your time lounging in bed with him, watching Christmas movies until you ultimately got distracted with each other to pay any attention.

The night before you left, he took you out to a nice dinner, marking it as the first real outing you had as a couple. You ate and drank to your heart's content, spending the night at his place before he drove you to the airport in the morning.

You had been excited to announce your newfound relationship with Sam to your family, with your mother specifically always raving about how sweet and handsome he is. They’re thrilled for the two of you, and hope they can meet the rest of the Kiszka family sometime soon.

You love the gifts you receive from your family, your favorites being a new set of moleskine notebooks and fountain pens from your parents, that you'll be sure to use up next semester, and a gorgeous amethyst necklace from your sister.

Your dad is commencing his duty as the trash man once everything has been unwrapped, stuffing the leftover wrapping paper into a big trash bag as you excuse yourself to the kitchen.

You make yourself a cup of tea, enjoying how the waves of amber seep into the water as you dunk the bag into your favorite mug. You sip if gently as you pad over to the window in your entryway, and to your delight, you see tiny flakes of snow beginning to dust your front yard. It’s always a toss up on whether or not it’ll be a white Christmas, or if the most snow you’ll get is the patches left from a past storm, so you’re elated to see the former be the outcome for this year.

You’re about to turn to inform your family of the exciting news, when a flash of silver catches your attention from the floor of your porch. You look down to find that it’s a tinsel bow, set atop a package wrapped in red paper.

Your brows furrow with curiosity as you push the front door open, assuming it’s a package for your parents from one of your neighbors. Your eyes widen when you see your name on a tag looped with the bow, etched in a familiar handwriting.

You start tearing into the wrapping as you step back inside, the cool air already nipping at your bare arms and feet.

You gasp when you see the familiar crimson spine and silver letters.

“No way,” you breathe, remembering how secretly upset you were when you put the book back in its box after submitting your project last week, assuming the department wanted to keep such a delicate copy.

You flip through the pages, reminiscing on your newfound love for the story that you once thought you disdained, when a folded piece of paper falls from the bind and flutters to the floor.

You bend down to pick it up, reading the words that are scribbled along the lines in the same endearing handwriting.

I had to beg Howard to let me keep this, and he only let me after I said it was a gift for his most favorite student. I figured you’d like to have it, considering all it’s done for us. Plus, it really is a great story.

What can I say? Austen’s a genius.

Merry Christmas, I ardently love and admire you. - Sam ♡

#hope you liked it liv!!! :-)#ily #sammy #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fanfic #gvf #gvf fic #greta van fanfic #gret van fleet fic #greta van fleet #writing #mine

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hornime · 4 years

Text

home workout | bokuto koutarou x gn!reader

“i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

warnings: 18+, sub!bokuto, jealous!reader (i mean who wouldn’t be when bokuto, your goddamn boyfriend, is perceived by other people the fuck), also lowkey possessive!reader, lotsa licking and sucking, nipple play, some praise (from reader) and some begging, brief mention of dacryphilia, kinda soft at the end

w/c: 1.5k sheesh

a/n: bokuto brainrot has me in literal tears. him being completely clueless to people flirting w him cus he doesn’t recognize romance from anyone but you has me so soft. i luv this man w my whole heart !!!!! ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE BAKUGO FIC I JUST ABOUT SHIT MY PANTS WOOWWOWO

you weren’t an idiot. you knew that your boyfriend was attractive in literally every aspect of the word. he was sweet, patient, and kind, and what he lacked in academic smarts was made up tenfold in his emotional maturity and ability to read people. big and beefy, bokuto was all yours and all you wanted to stay trapped within his arms forever. unfortunately, to maintain the figure you adored so much and stay in shape for the volleyball season, he had to leave the four walls of your shared bedroom far more than you liked, having a daily obligation to spend a few hours at the gym.

once again, you weren’t an idiot. the few times that your work schedule and his training schedule aligned, you’d been able to work out together. and despite your knowledge of just how good-looking bokuto was and the fact that other people could perceive him (much to your chagrin) you were shocked at just how much people shamelessly flirted with him.

cute girls with matching leggings and sports bras practically clung to his biceps, gushing about how strong he was and how he could probably pick them up with just one hand. their incessant giggling, mesmerizing hair twirling, and teasing touches pissed you off to no end, and you’d tug your boyfriend away before their breasts got too close to him for your liking.

something else you noticed was that, no matter how blatantly obvious the girls seemed to be, the guys were somehow worse, flirting through terms you couldn’t even understand. they compared deadlift weights, bicep curls, hip thrusts; you gritted your teeth thinking about whether they’d ever compared cock sizes in the locker room—you wouldn’t put it past those thirsty gym rats. sneaky bastards.

and bokuto, of course, was oblivious to it all. how could you blame him—he was so used to being adored! you knew that, to him, all of their praises paled in comparison to yours, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous. he was all yours—should be all yours—and you hated sharing him with the world.

you woke up saturday morning with a ringing in your ears, hand smacking the nightstand trying to turn off that god-awful alarm noise, bleary eyes barely able to focus on the text notification from your boyfriend.

[5:33 AM] kou: gm babe!!!! i didnt wanna wake u up cus u looked so peaceful! im heading to the gym rn. text me when ur up! love uu

[5:34 AM] kou: should be home around 9!! gym bud wants to show me something so i might be a little late for breakfast.

just to reiterate, you weren’t an idiot. for all the annoying flirting you noticed when you were with bokuto, there was no doubt in your mind that there must be a lot more when he was at the gym alone, which, unluckily for you, was most of the time since he was a freakin’ pro athlete and all.

you couldn’t prevent the pool of envy from swirling in your gut. gym bud? are you serious? who could that be? the girl with the arm tat or the dude with the dreads? no, maybe its that yoga instructor with the ass—

you shook your head, clearing your brain. you’d be here for hours if you went through everyone at that stupid gym that had ever shown interest in bokuto. the clock read 9:53 AM and the green flame in your body only burned brighter. just as you were about to call him and ask where he was, the front door slammed open.

“babe! i’m home!”

you silently put your phone down, teeth still clenching in jealousy. for some reason, hearing his voice only exacerbated the tension in your shoulders. you needed him. now.

“babe?” his voice creeped closer as he tread through the hallway towards the room. “you up?”

you peeked your head out of the doorframe, cheery voice masking your devilish intentions, “kou!"

his eyes brightened as he made eye contact with you and flashed his trademark smile. “hey! what’s u-” he took in the mischievous glint in your eyes “-p?”

you grabbed his burly forearm, yanking him behind you and walking towards him, forcing him to stumble and fall back on the bed. “wait! i’m all gross and sweaty,” he said, “gym showers were broke-”

“i don’t care. take off your shirt.”

“wow, someone’s eager. missed me that much?”

“watch it,” you glared. “i’m not in the mood, kou.”

he gulped at the dominance radiating from your voice, scrambling to take off the t-shirt that stretched between his pecs perfectly. with the fabric off and throw haphazardly to the side, he looked to you expectantly, the epitome of innocence.

your eyes wandered over his sculpted chest, the remnants of a soft sheen of sweat from his workout making it shine in the sunlight pouring through the blinds. your heart stuttered in your chest—he looked like an angel. coupled with the way with his bottom lip was tucked under his front teeth and the wide, anticipating look in his eyes, fuck. you almost smiled how blessed you felt in that moment, to see him in such a raw, alluring position, before a jarring thought caused your lips to twitch back into a frown.

everyone else can see him, too.

your eyes hardened. maybe they can see him all big and strong, you thought, but they’ll never get to see him like this: submissive.

and so fucking sensitive.

within an instant, your lips were latched on the soft spot above his collarbone, causing him to whimper in pleasure. you continued to travel along his throat, slowly working your way to the other side of his neck and crossing back to nibble at his adam’s apple.

you unexpectedly pulled away, drawing a short whine from him, before repositioning yourself so that you were straddling his outstretched legs. slowly, starting from the hem of his shorts, you dragged your tongue between the ridges of his abs, moving up towards his pecs, tasting the saltiness of his sweat and feeling the muscles tense underneath.

“fuck,” he groaned. as your lips puckered around one of his peaked nipples, he uncontrollably jerked his hips up, inadvertently rubbing his sensitive cock between your legs. overwhelmed by the sensation, he moaned. “fuck.”

“you taste good,” you muttered, grazing your teeth over his other nipple. “just wanna taste you all the time. you’d let me, right?”

thoughts muddled by just how good everything felt, he nodded mindlessly. “i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

you paused. raising your head from his chest, you made eye contact with him, so intense he almost closed his eyes to shield himself from the blaze burning in your dilated pupils. “why’d you stop,” he begged, “i want more. feels so good and i wan’ mor-”

“say it again,” you demanded. “tell me that you’re mine.”

his eyes, glossed over and prickled with tears precariously close to falling, squeezed tightly as he spoke, unable to control the growing volume of his voice. “’m all yours. always. all yo- yours.” he gasped as you resumed your movements, pinching the sensitive skin around his v-line while fervently leaving sloppy kisses on his chest.

“good boy.”

he keened at your praise. another light touch to his cock combined with the passage of your mouth had him trembling, and his breath hitched as he cried out in warning, tears now flowing freely over his flushed cheeks. “m’ gonna cum, ‘m gonna, gonna cum.”

“yeah?” you whispered, lips brushing against his strained abs. “go ahead then.”

“fuck!” he whined, blabbering as you sat back and watched in awe of the beauty before you, a big strong man like him reduced to nothing more than a moaning mess. “fuck, fuck—you always make me feel so, s-so go-od, fuck i love you.”

with soaked shorts and an exhausted sigh, he dropped his head back onto the plush comforter of the bed. you flattened your palms on his quivering body, reeling from the aftershocks of his orgasm. he panted, running his fingers through your hair before nudging your face to look at him, staring at you with an expression of pure bliss and adoration. he studied you for a bit before declaring with a soft smile, “you’re the best. so fuckin’ happy that i’m yours.”

driven by affection, he sat up and reached his arms around your waist, snuggling his chin over your shoulder and mashing your chests, yours clothed and his naked, together. “kou wait!” you shrieked. “you’re all sweaty again! it’s gross!”

he chuckled. as if you hadn’t been spoiling him by licking it up just a few minutes ago. “you’re right. i‘m probably sweating more now than i was after my workout.”

at that, your ears perked up. “well maybe you should do home workouts more often then,” you teased.

“you’re right,” he repeated with a grin, “maybe i should.” if it meant more mornings like these, he’d forego the gym in a heartbeat.

that night, he canceled his gym membership. after all, he reasoned, it’s offseason anyway.

#i jus wanna lick him clean #sue me #kinky.inky #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #koutarou x reader #bokuto

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namparktae · 3 years

Text

Min Yoongi

𝟐:𝟑𝟒𝐚𝐦ᵐʸᵍ

lying awake in your shared bed, you shifted your body towards the sleeping body next to you. you were faced with yoongis bare back as his chest rose and fell peacefully.

you shuffled closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso as you placed small soft kisses along his shoulder blade in an attempt to soothe him. lately he was so busy that you had to remind him to take breaks and eat, otherwise he would have definitely gone without.

he turned to face you, still asleep but slowly stirring.

"sorry baby, i didn't mean to wake you." you apologised as you noticed his eyes flutter open for a split second. he grumbled, grasping you into his arms as he cuddled you close into his bare chest. his leg hooked around yours as he attempted to pull you closer to him, giving you a tight squeeze as your hips rubbed against his.

he bucked his hips slightly into yours as you felt his member harden a little. you decided to ignore it as you knew he'd be too tired to do anything about it yet he kissed your forehead and traced small circles along your spine to let you know he was now wide awake.

with wide eyes you gazed into his adorable brown orbs as he cupped your face and kissed your nose. you peered over his shoulder to see the alarm clocks red beaming light, displaying the time.

2:34am.

you felt his palm on your waist as his hips bucked into you, trying to slyly gain friction without you noticing.

"yoongi, you okay?" you asked him with a peck to his lips causing a little grunt to escape his lips. you could tell exactly what was going on.

he gave you a sleepy nod as his eyes closed shut again but his hips ground against yours, letting you know how hard he was. "baby it's late, we have work in the morning." you uttered as you looked at him with apologetic eyes.

"i don't care, i'm needy." he gave you puppy dog eyes as you let your hand trace his bulge making him groan. your eyes lit up at his aroused state, you pressed a long, warming kiss to his lips as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

pulling away for air, you kissed along his jawline as you began telling him "make it quick baby."

yoongi smirked at you, grabbing hold of your hips again and latching his mouth to your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses down to your shoulder. small moans spilled from your lips as you held the back of yoongis neck, allowing him to suck on your sweet spot.

you grabbed a condom from the drawer beside him and slipped it in the cup of your bra, causing him to lay on his back to let you straddle him. your clothed heat rested perfectly on his hard cock that bulged from beneath his underwear. you began to rock your hips, making him squint from the frictional pleasure.

"come on baby, let me take those pretty little panties off." he smirked, gazing at you through hooded eyes.

he looped his fingers around the waistband and pulled them down your thighs as he kisses your stomach while holding your waist. he loved seeing you vulnerable at his touches, acting like your body was made to submit to him.

"be gentle, please." you managed you murmer out from the immense pleasure of his lips brushing against your skin.

you were burning hot.

he let out a soft chuckle as his lips continued to kiss your core.

"too rough last time huh?" he asked.

you gave him a small nod making him kiss the skin where your panties were sitting previously, making you hum in delight.

before you knew it his head was between your legs and two his fingers pushed deep inside your pussy making you moan profusely. your mouth was agape as he licked a firm stripe from your entrance hole up to your clit, causing your walls to clench around his fingers.

"such a good girl aren't you kitten? you want me to lick that pretty pussy hm?" he said giving you sweet-looking eyes.

eagerly nodding, your hand made its way to his hair, gripping onto it tightly. the two of your locked eyes as he grunted before eating your pussy like an animal. his tongue swirled around your clit as he sucked on it harshly, still pumping his fingers inside you.

you were still hovered above him, riding his flattened tongue when you felt the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, causing your pussy to clench around nothing. it took everything in him to be able to pull away from your core, making you hiss in loss of pleasure.

"yoongi, no please." you whined. "i was so close."

"i'm no where near done with you." he uttered. "i have to make you cum around me princess."

reaching up, he took the condom from your bra as you stripped him of his boxers. yoongi unwrapped it and slipped it on quickly while you got ready to ride him, by aligning your pussy with his hard cock and before you knew it he bottomed out inside you.

lewd noises were all that could be heard as he fucked you roughly, he held onto your hips tight as he helped you rock back and forth on his lap, making you both feel absolutely euphoric. your high came quick as his hard cock hit your spot with every thrust of his hips. the knot in your stomach unraveled and you both came together. yoongi grabbed your waist and lifted you up from his shaft, taking off his condom and throwing it away. he quickly slid underneath you, tasting your cum on his tongue as he licked your core momentarily.

"ahh- yoongi stop, oh god." you moaned from being sensitive, trying to escape his arms that had looped around your legs.

he let you go and you both cleaned yourselves up, yoongi made sure to grab you some clean underwear and he pulled them up your thighs with ease, making sure to kiss your inner thighs as he did so. your body had become tired and your eyelids were heavy, yoongi held you close as he pressed a kiss to your temple as you got ready for bed, for the second time tonight.

"i love you, my angel." he whispered against your hair

"i love you more."

Unedited

written 8/5/21

1.1k words

Masterlist

wattpad- namparktae for more one shots

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serenehwa · 3 years

Text

Midnight Hour

genre: smut, but sweet smut

pairing: jin x reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: sweet late night sex with jin. that’s it that’s the smut.

It was a quiet night, Jin was yet again staying late at practice with the boys. It was something you had grown used to, night after night of brushing your teeth alone, showering alone, and snuggling into lonely sheets without him to warm you up. You laid in the bed, mindlessly browsing various social medias as you started to feel your eyes become heavy.

You had dozed off when you heard the door unlock, Jin quietly sneaking into the house to get himself ready for bed. Glancing at the clock, you realized it was around midnight. The house was quiet, the only sounds being heard were that of Jin getting ready in the bathroom for bed, the sink running as you heard the repetition of his toothbrush doing its job.

“Hello, beautiful.” Jin whispered as he walked into the bedroom, the smile on his face lightly illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window, “Sorry for being out so late again.”

“It’s not a problem, babe. I understand that you can’t help it.” You answered back at him, plugging your phone in for the night and sitting it on the nightstand, “I did miss you, though.”

Jin slid into the bed beside you, wearing an oversized t-shirt and basketball shorts as his pajamas of choice. His warmth was immediately noticeable, as was the smell of his facial moisturizer mixed in with the light hint of minty toothpaste, the smell of him was intoxicating and you could never get enough of it. He snuggled against you, an audible sigh escaping his lips as you moved to face him, lazily throwing an arm around his broad shoulders to pull him closer.

“God, I am so exhausted and this bed has never felt more comfortable.” Jin sighed, his voice barely a whisper as his eyes fluttered close.

“You say that every time you come home from practice, you know.” You whispered back, giggling at him.

“Well, it’s how I feel every time. There is nothing better than coming home to you and our bed. It’s infinite comfort.” Jin sighed again, bringing his lips to leave a tiny kiss upon your forehead.

Jin’s eyes were closed as he began to pepper your face with light, feathery kisses. Your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, everything needed to be appreciated. He opened his eyes to look at you, running his hand across your cheek to rest on your shoulder before placing a small kiss on your lips.

“I love you, you know?” Jin whispered against your lips before giving another peck, “Like, a lot. I love you a lot.”

You smiled into the kiss, holding him even tighter to you.

“The feeling is very mutual, as I also happen to love you a lot. Like, a lot lot.” You assured him, bringing your hand to hold his face as you kissed him. Nothing rushed or forced between the two of you, just small, quiet kisses illuminated by the moonlight.

Jin was the one to start it, he brought his hand to rest on your waist as he kissed you just ever so slightly with more force than before. He always wanted every kiss to have meaning, to be laced with nothing but love and appreciation for you. You draped your leg across his hips, bringing him even closer to you so that your entire bodies were touching. You felt his tongue graze your lips as he attempted to deepen the kiss, his hand gently held your waist even tighter as he did so. You opened your mouth to join him, tongues slowly caressing each other as you explored each others mouths. You sighed, wanting nothing more than to be exactly where you were, laying in bed and making out with your loving boyfriend. Jin’s hand moved to the hem of your shirt, making its way underneath to leave tiny touches against your hips working up to rest on your waist. You held your leg around his hips even tighter as you just slightly grazed your body against his. You felt Jin’s reaction immediately, his cock twitched against your thigh and he lightly sighed into the continued makeout session the two of you were very much enjoying.

“I see that there’s one part of you that doesn’t seem to be so exhausted.” You whispered, pulling away for just a moment to look at Jin, his eyes fluttered open, his lips were glossy with the combined saliva from both of you.

“I think you may be right.” Jin smiled, his exhaustion very apparent in his voice, “We might have to do something about it.”

The two of you began to kiss again, this time with a bit more fervor as you grazed your thigh against him again, feeling his cock twitch against you yet again as he began to fully harden. His hand worked its way up to your chest, his soft fingers making your body feel like it had electricity coursing through it. Your hands went under his shirt as well, feeling the soft but sturdy torso that he was blessed with as you moved for him to take it off. He sat up for just a moment, removing his hand from your chest to remove his own shirt.

“There, are you happy now? Getting to see the legendary Worldwide Handsome shirtless? Don’t you feel blessed?” Jin flashed his smile as he continued, “I know, you’re just dying to touch me.”

“Yes, yes. I’m so blessed, really.” You rolled your eyes, “I have the pleasure of being with the one and only Worldwide Handsome Jin.” “The pleasure is all mine, my dear.” Jin moved both of you so he could get on top of you, nestling himself between your legs as he brought his head down to kiss you again.

Jin’s hands went to remove your shirt, you silently thanked your past self for choosing not to put a bra on as he brought his hand to rest on your breast. He began to pepper open mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at your collarbone as he continued to make his way down to your chest. He left kisses on your breasts, teasing as he would slightly graze against your hardened nipples but never quite give them the attention they so desperately craved.

“Jin, please.” You whined, “I need you.”

He took a nipple into his mouth and you gasped, there was absolutely nothing better than Jin’s lips on any part of your body. You felt like your nerves were on fire, every touch making you want him that much more. He began to slowly grind himself against your core and God, was it good. You swore you could cum just from this alone, but you know that you needed more. He continued to work his tongue against your nipples, switching between your breasts and always making sure to give the other one attention with his soft hands. You moaned, involuntarily arching off of the bed to get as close as possible to Jin, whose cock was twitching repeatedly against your core with every moan you let out.

Jin sat up and moved his hands to your hips, pulling the shorts you were wearing down along with your underwear to remove them. He stood up, taking his own shorts down. His naked and aroused silhouette in the subtle moonlight might just be the most gorgeous version of him that you’ve ever seen. His cock was beautiful, not the longest but it was thick, standing at attention with a slight curve to the left and you swore that you were seeing the perfect example of the ideal human body every time you saw Jin nude.

“Enjoying your view?” Jin sleepily teased, bringing his body back onto the bed to join you, making himself comfy between your legs as he lays his body on yours, “I know that I’m enjoying mine.”

He grabbed onto your thighs bringing your legs to wrap around his waist as he ground himself against your wet core, he groaned, finally feeling how wet you were for him.

“I always enjoy my view if my view is you.” You gasped as he ground against you again, “Fuck, please keep doing that.”

“You’re so wet for me, babe.” Jin whispered against your neck, his hot breath ghosting against you as he sighed, “You know that I can’t tell you no when you beg me so nicely.”

Jin continued to grind against you, the tip of his cock grazing your clit again and again as he moaned against your neck. Your legs wrapped around him even tighter, the onslaught of sounds from him and heavy breaths against you sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body.

“Please, Jin, I need your cock inside me. I need to truly feel all of you.” You begged him, turning his head from your neck to face him, bringing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss before continuing, “You’re going to drive me crazy if you don’t fuck me soon.”

Jin moaned against your lips, there’s nothing he loves more than to hear you beg for his cock.

“Who am I to keep my beautiful girl waiting?” Jin reached down between your bodies, aligning his cock with your entrance as he slowly slid into you, drawing out moans from both of you with every inch, “God, you feel so fucking amazing every time we do this.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in response, your ability to form any coherent sentence was lost as Jin guided himself into you, your legs were still wrapped around his waist and his pubic bone was grinding against your clit with every thrust and you knew that there was no way you were going to last long. Only Jin had the ability to make you a mess like this, only he could manage to set fire to every nerve in your body every single time you were intimate with him.

Jin’s hands roamed your body, one landing on your ass to grip you even tighter. The weight of him resting on you combined with the continued slow thrusting was electrifying to every one of your senses. You wrapped your arms around his back, scratching your nails up it as he seemingly refused to speed up his thrusting, the slow burn of it all just making it that much more tantalizing.

“Please, please Jin. I need it.” You whined, “So bad.”

Jin smirked, loving how he could make you feel like this. His thrusts sped up ever so slightly, his angle working against you perfectly to graze your clit every time he thrust all the way into you.

“Is this what you needed, baby? You needed me to fill you up like this?” Jin whispered against your neck, bringing his head up to look straight into your eyes. All you could do is nod in response, ability to speak once again taken from you.

Jin rested his forehead against yours as he sped his thrusts up again, breathing heavily against you as his face began to scrunch up in pleasure. He bit his bottom lip, his moans were getting whinier and higher pitched with every thrust. You knew he was close, and you were too.

Bringing a hand to your breast, Jin began to fondle a nipple and you knew there was no going back. Your orgasm was catching up to you quickly. You gripped harder onto his back, your nails gripped so hard into his back that you thought you might draw blood.

“I’m so close.” You whimpered against him, feeling your orgasm build up and then release, the waves of pleasure shooting into every nerve in your body. You swore you could see stars as you convulsed against him.

“Fuck, I’m close too.” Jin moaned, knowing his orgasm was soon to follow. His thrusts became sloppier the closer he got, chasing his high like no other.

You looked up at him and saw how beautiful he was. The sweat glistening off of his forehead, his mouth hanging open just releasing moan after moan, not a care in the world if anyone could hear. He let out a low groan as you felt him cum, releasing himself inside of you as his thrusts slowed again to extend his orgasm for as long as he possibly could before he collapsed on top of you, completely out of breath.

“I love you so much,” Jin said against your lips, kissing you yet again, “So, so much.”

“I love you too, Jin,” You responded, wrapping your arms around him to hold him as close to you as possible, “More than anyone else in this world.”

The two of you laid there for a moment before cleaning up, the quiet, dimlit room filled only with the sounds of your labored breathing. Yeah, there really wasn’t anything better than this.

#bts #bts smut #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts jin #jin smut #seokjin smut #kim seokjin #kpop smut #karissa writes

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nicknellie · 4 years

Text

Anonymous requested: It would be really cool if you could do a library AU! Maybe one of them works at a library and they keep running into each other or something.

I have been unbelievably excited to write this one, I’m so happy I’ve finally got around to it! This is where my mind went as soon as I read the prompt, I really hope you enjoy it! (If anyone wants to suggest a prompt for a part 2 I’d be more than happy to do that once I reopen requests.)

Featuring he/they Willie because I really need to include that headcanon in my writing more often. Willie’s pronouns alternate throughout.

Books on Boards

Usually it was Reggie whose excuses began with “In my defence…”

“In my defence, I couldn’t see where I was going… In my defence, I forgot water and electricity don’t mix… In my defence, if Luke didn’t want to be shot with a Nerf gun then he shouldn’t have been standing in my way…”

Sometimes it was Luke.

“In my defence, no one told me not to… In my defence, I didn’t realise it could go this horribly wrong… In my defence, I did try to do it properly and I don’t know how it blew up…”

On rare occasion, it was Julie.

“In my defence, I was a little lost in my own head… In my defence, I’m terrible at comebacks… In my defence, I have an extremely annoying boyfriend and he was trying to talk to me about our new setlist the whole time which was very distracting…”

But it was never Alex.

Until now.

“In my defence,” Alex began, raising a hand and talking over Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s shouts, “I have to go to the library a lot. I’m an English major and it’s where all the books are!”

“But you don’t need to be at the library for five hours a day,” Luke countered.

Alex sighed. He had a point, and Alex had no excuse this time. Well, that wasn’t strictly true – his excuse was an adorable library assistant who just so happened to be very friendly to Alex and, by some miracle, worked whenever Alex needed to study. But he couldn’t just admit that to his friends, each of whom was staring at him with flat disbelief.

The assistant’s name was Willie and he was simply wonderful. The first time Alex had met him had been right at the start of his first semester – he had never been to the university’s library before and it was bigger than the one at Alexandria, so he was unbelievably lost. Alex had half-convinced himself that he would be stuck there forever, doomed to wander between the shelves looking for the section he needed, eventually becoming a ghost and haunting the place, still trying to locate his books.

Enter Willie. They had scared Alex half to death – in Alex’s defence, he hadn’t expected to be knocked off his feet by someone on a skateboard in the middle of a library the size of Buckingham Palace. And yet, he had landed on the floor, flat on his face and winded, understandably startled. As he scrambled to his feet, he heard his assailant exclaim, “Aw… you dinged my board!”

Alex had started to berate him but stopped in his tracks when he looked at the guy and realised that he had been knocked to the floor by a literal angel. His long dark hair was majestically swept to one side and tucked behind his ear, his soft eyes were sparkling, and he had a lopsided smile on his face despite the fact that Alex had been shouting at him just a second earlier (well, whisper-shouting at him – they were in a library, after all).

“Sorry,” they had said, picking up their board. “I didn’t see you there. Books were in the way.” He had pointed to a heap of books now strewn across the floor, some splayed open, some with ripped pages. Alex realised that he had been carrying the books stacked up in front of him, skating along with them.

“Oh!” Alex exclaimed, bending down to help pick the books up. “No, sorry, it’s fine. I was just stood there. I’m a little lost, no problem, my fault.”

Together they had stacked the books back up, and Willie heaved the stack onto a nearby table before introducing himself. Alex did the same, shaking Willie’s hand and trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach – he couldn’t let himself get distracted by a cute guy with a skateboard, not while he still had all his books to find in the labyrinthine library.

“So,” Willie had said conversationally, leaning back against the table. “You said you were lost? Anything specific you need to find?”

Alex dug around in his fanny pack before pulling out the list he’d scribbled down. “Yeah, all of these. Do you know where they are?”

“I’d be a pretty terrible librarian if I didn’t,” Willie chuckled. At Alex’s bewildered look, he had raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m not a terrible librarian. I’m actually really good at it. I mean, I don’t usually knock over customers, but these things happen.”

“Oh,” Alex said, clocking on too late. It made sense – of course that was why Willie had been carrying so many books, he was a librarian. Alex didn’t know how he hadn’t guessed before. “Right, I get it, because of the books and the… Right, okay. What about the, uh… the skateboard?”

Willie had picked up their board, smiled at it fondly. “It helps me get around faster. This place is huge, man, you don’t seriously expect me to walk around it all day? Anyway, come with me, I’ll take you to those books.”

That had been five weeks ago.

It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie was incredibly cute. It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie’s shifts happened to perfectly align with his studying time. But he couldn’t deny that it was his fault that he had stayed there for hours on end every day since, talking to Willie about everything and nothing. And it was also his fault that he had done that very same thing today, checked his watch and seen that he was an hour late for band practise, and kept talking to Willie anyway.

Usually, Alex thought about consequences, but he had been having so much fun talking to Willie that day that he hadn’t considered them. Now those consequences had caught up with him in the form of one very angry rock band.

“Alex,” Luke said imploringly, “you’ve got to get your head in the game! We have a load of gigs coming up, really important ones–”

“We do?” Reggie interrupted, looking baffled. “I thought we’ve got that one at the old folks’ home and then that’s it for, like, a month?”

Luke waved him away. “That’s not the point. These gigs are just as important as any big ones. Dude, we’ve got to build up our repertoire so that we can start playing bigger venues, but that’s not going to happen if our drummer is too caught up in his studies!”

Alex inwardly sighed with relief. At least Luke thought the reason he was staying at the library so often was because he was working hard, not because he was talking to Willie. He would have preferred his tiny little crush on Willie stayed secret for a little longer; whenever Luke found out that Alex or Reggie liked someone, he became unbearable.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if Julie had other ideas.

She huffed an incredulous laugh, saying, “You seriously think he’s staying late because he’s studying?”

Luke nodded, confused, as Reggie gestured to Alex and said, “Of course he is, what other reason could there be?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, nodding. He knew that the hitch in his voice was unconvincing – in his defence, he’d never been a good liar. “What other reason could there be?”

Julie raised a challenging eyebrow, but the smirk on her face told Alex that she knew she had already won. “Alex, can I just ask, who was working at the library today?”

Alex cleared his throat and tried for nonchalance when he said, “Willie.”

“You mean the good-looking skater-boy history major, right?” Julie said slyly.

Alex shrugged. “Yeah. I guess he is those things.”

Julie nodded slowly. Luke and Reggie were watching the interaction carefully, though it didn’t seem like the realisation had dawned on either of them yet.

“And who was working last Friday when you didn’t arrive back here until almost ten p.m.?” Julie asked.

“Willie,” Alex said under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“Right,” Julie replied. “And what about Tuesday when you missed three lectures and were smiling too much to even care about how much that’ll drop your grade?”

Alex scowled and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the answer, and judging by the ‘O’ shape Reggie’s mouth was making and the wide grin that had made itself at home on Luke’s face, they had figured it out too.

“Bro,” Luke said excitedly, “you’ve got a crush on Willie!”

“No,” Alex spluttered, “no, I do not. We just happen to get on really well and he’s always working when I need to study.”

“But he is the reason you’re always there, isn’t he?” Reggie prompted.

Alex shrugged. “I guess,” he mumbled.

Luke leapt up, clamped his hands onto Alex’s shoulders and jumped up and down like an over-excited puppy. The ecstatic smile on Luke’s face didn’t quite make up for how annoying it was.

“Dude,” he said emphatically, “you’ve gotta ask him out!”

“Don’t be silly,” Alex said, shaking his head, “it’s not like that.”

“It’s like that,” Julie, Luke and Reggie chorused. Alex just rolled his eyes.

“Look, Alex,” Julie said. He looked past Luke to her, but only because in situations like this she tended to be the voice of reason. “I actually agree with Luke.”

Apparently, that day she was taking a break from being the voice of reason.

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Julie interrupted him. “Hear me out. No matter what you say, you’re clearly head over heels for this guy. And it is distracting you – we’re two hours into rehearsal and you haven’t even set up your kit. If you ask him out and he says yes then you can hang out with him at other times as boyfriends, not when you’re meant to be spending time with us. If he says no, you can get him out of your mind and move on, getting your mind back on the band. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Again, Alex tried to respond, but this time Reggie and Luke both yelled over him.

“No!” Reggie shouted. “We agreed never to ask him that question again!”

“Have you forgotten last time?” Luke questioned furiously. “That was the longest three hours of my life!”

Julie held her hands up. “Sorry, sorry, it slipped my mind.”

“Okay,” Alex said, ignoring them and deciding to get the conversation back on track. “Even if I did do that, there’s so many things that could go wrong. I don’t know if he’s into guys, and if he says no for any reason at all then I can never go back to the library.”

Luke shook his head. “Dude, Willie’s the head of the university’s LGBTQ+ Society and he introduces himself as ‘Willie, he/they, gay’ at the start of each session.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been a couple of times. Hey, wait, we should all go, it’s actually super chill and–”

“It sounds great, Luke, but we’ll talk about it later,” Julie said, easily calming him as he started getting over-excited again. “Right now we have other things to focus on. Alex, if Luke’s right then Willie is definitely into guys. And from the way you’ve gushed about him and your conversations without realising it, I’d say he definitely has a thing for you. And he seems cool – I’m sure even if he said no then he’d act completely normally around you.”

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed, “the guy doesn’t find anything awkward. Last week I was looking through a book for my psychology class and just as I flicked to a… questionable page, he came up behind me. He just laughed it off and then offered to sign it out for me once I was done looking through it.”

Alex thought about it for a moment. It sounded too good to be true. Luke said that Willie was into guys, Julie said they might like Alex, Reggie said that they’d be cool with it no matter what… Good things like this didn’t happen to Alex too often.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. The others sighed, Reggie throwing up his hands with exasperation. “I will! I’ll think. But we should get to rehearsing.”

Almost two and a half hours later than they should have, the band finally set up their instruments and Alex counted them in.

He was at the library. Again. He was always at the library these days, just this time he really did need to be working. He had a big assessment coming up and needed to cram some last-minute studying in.

It would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t been trying to avoid Willie the entire time.

In Alex’s defence, it felt like the most reasonable option. Sure, he could see Willie and ask him out, but if Willie rejected him then he wasn’t sure he’d ever live it down despite his friends’ reassurances. He could have seen Willie and not asked him out, but then he’d be living in constant wonder of what could happen. So he had elected to do the sensible thing and just not see them at all.

It had been going well for the most part. His legs were beginning to ache from springing himself behind bookcases whenever he caught a glimpse of Willie, but it was worth it. Besides – he needed to focus, and an angelic librarian wasn’t about to help him do that.

He made his fatal error when trying to exit the library.

He had been so caught up in scanning the surrounding area for Willie that he hadn’t been looking ahead, or down at the floor. He heard the shout of, “Watch out!” too late.

Alex stepped forward, his foot landed on a skateboard, and he was sent flying down to the ground, landing hard on his coccyx. Pain shot up his back and he let out an agonised groan which earned him a “Shhhh!” from a tired-looking student sat at the nearest table.

“Alex,” came the same voice who had shouted the warning, the voice Alex now recognised as Willie’s. So much for avoiding him. Willie came and crouched down beside Alex where he was still laying on the floor, leaning over him, looking concerned. “Hey, Alex, you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left my board lying there, I was only restocking that shelf.”

Groaning, Alex eased himself into a sitting position. Willie sat back, still looking worried.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Alex lied. His coccyx was killing him. “It’s fine. I won’t sue or demand you get fired or anything.”

Willie chuckled lightly and then held out his hand. Alex took it automatically and was a little startled when Willie began pulling him to his feet – maybe it was the shock, but he had thought the hand holding was them simply having a moment. But no, of course it was too good to be true. Willie let go of his hand the moment they were both stood and then bent to pick up his board.

“I hadn’t seen you,” Willie said. “Where’ve you been hiding?”

Alex shrugged. “Oh, nowhere. Just… doing my English work. In the quiet area.”

Nodding, Willie replied with something that made Alex’s blood run cold.

“That’s cool. It’s just that I was just talking to Luke a minute ago and he said there was something you wanted to ask me?”

Eyes wide, jaw open in shock, Alex looked behind Willie to where they had pointed. Sure enough, standing by the end of a nearby bookcase with his nose in a book (which he was clearly not reading because it was upside down) was Luke. He gave Alex a nervous wave when he saw him looking.

Trying not to sound murderous, Alex said, “Yeah. There was something.”

He realised too late that hadn’t been what he was planning to say.

“Yeah? What is it?” Willie asked with a smile.

Alex’s eyes darted from Willie to Luke and back again, then up to the ceiling and around the library for inspiration, and then they landed on his own wrist and the rainbow bracelet wrapped around it.

“I – well, we, me and my friends – we were wondering if there would be any space for us to join the LGBTQ+ Society. Luke mentioned you’re the head so I figured there’s no one better to ask than you. Right?”

Willie blinked, face faltering for just a moment. Alex tried not to panic – had he said the wrong thing, had he somehow offended Willie? But the look was gone quick enough for Alex to convince himself he’d imagined it, replaced by his radiant smile.

“Yeah, the more the merrier,” he said. But then he cleared his throat and added, “You’re sure that’s it?”

Swallowing nervously, Alex cast another glance to Luke who had given up the pretence of reading and was now urgently gesturing at Willie, making kissy faces, and mouthing words Alex couldn’t understand – but he got the message.

“Okay, no, there was one more thing,” he said quietly.

Willie tucked his hair behind his ear and Alex’s eyes caught momentarily on his earring.

“I was wondering,” he began, slow but steady, “if you would… by any chance… And you can say no, I won’t be offended! It’s just, I would really like to go on a date with you. And if you would like to go on a date with me then I think we should. Do that. Go on a date. Together. If you want?”

As awkward as it felt, Alex maintained eye contact – he was glad he did, because a moment later Willie’s face split in a beautiful grin that didn’t look mocking or apologetic, it looked genuinely happy.

“Yes,” Willie said, laughing quietly. “Yes, I do want that.”

Alex sighed with relief. “Thank god. I’m going to kill Luke.”

“Don’t,” Willie said, shaking his head. “I can’t have you getting arrested before I get to go on a date with you.”

“What about after the date?” Alex joked.

“Yeah, man, that’s fine.” Willie laughed but after a moment their expression softened. “I’m really glad you asked. I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

Alex scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah. That’s the same reason it took me so long to do the actual asking.”

“Well,” said Willie, “that doesn’t matter now. Does Friday work for you?”

Alex’s only form of a social life was hanging out with the band, and his plans for Friday consisted largely of sitting in his and Reggie’s shared dorm room, eating cold pizza and watching reruns of Friends.

“Yeah,” he said coolly, “I can probably make it work. Might have to reschedule some stuff, but it’ll be worth it.”

Clearly not believing him but polite enough not to call him out, Willie laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Great. My shift finishes at five that day, I’ll let you be a gentleman and pick me up. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll catch you then, Alex.”

“See you,” Alex said.

Willie walked away and was seamlessly replaced by Luke, who gripped Alex’s arms and shook him up and down. “Bro! You got a date with Willie! You can thank me later.”

Alex left the library, Luke trailing behind him. “I’m not thanking you,” he said, fighting a smile.

“Why not? I got him to come talk to you!”

“You didn’t ask him out, I did that. There’s nothing to thank you for.”

“That is where you’re very much wrong because…”

As Luke went on for a solid ten minutes about why Alex and Willie finally agreeing to go on a date was actually all down to him, Alex zoned out and let himself be happy. He had a date with Willie, the angelic librarian, the good-looking skater-boy history major. He couldn’t believe his luck.

When they arrived back at the studio, Julie smirked and said, “You’re grinning like an idiot, Alex.”

“In my defence,” he returned, “I'm going on a date with Willie.”

174 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

My Side

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: language, lots of smut, prostate massage, fluff, some mentions of angst (but it’s very minimal)

Genre: Marriage AU

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Y/N has had her entire future planned out ever since she could remember: step one- graduate college (done), step two- find a good-paying job (done), step three- marry someone she adores (done), and step four- have kids (???). She understands that life is full of obstacles, but is it too much to ask for your husband to finally knock you up?

A/N: Big apology to this anon user who requested this and had to wait like 8 billion years for me to finish it.

The fertility clinic was unusually cold, and I found myself shivering in direct contradiction with the sweltering summer heat collecting outside of the office building. Maybe that was the point: the doctors wanted to keep you totally alert while you waited for what seemed like hours for a standard routine visit. Because I could’ve already fallen asleep at this point - taking advantage of my day off from work to do something other than fret over the working condition of my reproductive system.

Of course, there was also the issue of my grumpy husband who had been thoroughly displeased when he found out exactly what a pap smear test implied. “He was totally checking you out when we came in,” Chan said. “Then, he insisted on sticking that thing up your vagina?”

“Oh, give it a rest, Chan,” I said. “I knew they would do that before I even came here.”

“I think he just wanted to look at your pussy,” Chan insisted. “And he did it right in front of me like I didn’t even exist!”

“You weren’t forced to stay in the room,” I pointed out, which I would’ve preferred but Chan insisted on standing over me like some kind of jealous observer who actually wanted to watch such an intimate procedure.

“Yeah, he would’ve preferred that,” Chan said, leaning further back in his chair. “How the hell is this even supposed to help us? We’ve only been trying for a few months.”

“Well, I want to make sure everything is working properly,” I said, and (just to spite him) I glanced down at his crotch. “What if you’re having performance issues, honey?”

“My dick works just fine,” Chan insisted. “But you know what? I think it’s partially your fault that we can’t pregnant. You’re putting too much pressure on him and it’s hard for me to focus.”

“Him?” I questioned with a grin. "Do you really want to personify your penis?”

“That’s not the point!” Chan exclaimed. “Did you even hear me, Y/N?”

“But what is the point, Chan? What exactly are you having trouble focusing on?” I asked. “We’re talking about fucking, not a tax audit. Keep the office out of our bedroom.”

“You don’t think I know the difference?”

“Apparently not since it requires more effort than necessary for you to orgasm,” I screeched, barely getting the words out before the doctor’s return.

Immediately, Chan and I were both forced smiles, pretending like we weren’t just having a pointless argument. “Well,” the doctor said. “Everything is fine on your end, Mrs. Bang. I guess that means we can perform some tests on your husband.”

“Oh, that would be great,” I said, even as Chan shifted restlessly from next to me. “Is there anything you need?”

“We’d like to ask you for a sperm sample,” the doctor replied while handing Chan a clear, transparent plastic cup that he accepted with obvious hesitation. “I’ll give you some time.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at Chan who was glaring at the cup as if personally offended by its presence.

But at least he waited until the doctor was gone before looking at me with wide eyes. “What do I do?” Chan asked, holding up the plastic cup while appearing thoroughly taken aback.

“It’s just masturbating,” I hissed at him.

“They want me to jerk off into this cup?” Chan gasped like the idea was so totally perplexing to him.

“How else will they get a sperm sample?” I asked him, rolling my eyes because I was growing impatient.

But Chan still hesitated, using one hand to hold the cup while his other traveled down to the front of his jeans. “Do I just...”

“Yes!” I shouted while standing up from my chair. “It’s nothing hard, Chan, you’ve been masturbating since 9th grade!”

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing to do it here,” Chan argued, and I sighed for what had to be the thousandth time that day.

“There’s a curtain for privacy,” I said, reaching for my bag from the floor. “I’ll be waiting outside until you’re done.”

“Y/N!” Chan whined, but I left without another word, hoping that Chan could get his shit together because I was exhausted and the prospect of the bed waiting for me at home was suddenly everything that I wanted.

It turned out that Chan and I were both perfectly healthy, and there should be nothing impeding my ability to finally get pregnant. Chan even managed to smile after our doctor complimented his sperm because they were powerful swimmers or whatever the hell that meant. But that had also been hours ago, and after a well-deserved nap, I was feeling exceptionally horny. Thankfully, Chan was never the type to turn down sex, and a few innocent kisses had turned into a full-blown pornography session within moments of me circling my hips against the front of his jeans.

“Fuck me, Chan,” I said, and he nodded eagerly as we both helped each other escape the obstacle of our clothes.

“You should apologize to my dick first,” Chan said teasingly when he had me spread open in front of him, fisting his cock as he started jerking himself off.

“What? Why?”

“You questioned my performance earlier,” Chan said with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe my cock isn’t good enough for you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, whining when I tried to wrap my hand around the base of his erection, only to have Chan knock it away with a sharp growl. "Alright!” I groaned. “I’m sorry I questioned your all-powerful shaft, okay? So, can you please just fuck me already?”

Chan chuckled at my easy compliance, and he ran his thumb across the slit of his cock before positioning himself at my wet entrance. “Remember that next time, Y/N,” he said, exhaling shakily when he started to push inside.

“Shit!” I cried, reaching out for his broad shoulders as I held on as tight as possible for the ride waiting ahead of me.

“Such a tight cunt,” Chan remarked, pausing a moment to grind himself against my insides just to feel the pressure around his cock.

“Go faster,” I requested, throwing my head back when he complied, smacking his hips into mine as he searched for the perfect angle to leave me seeing stars.

“Yeah?” Chan purred, and he started thrusting faster than before, dragging his cock against the pulsating walls of my cunt, forcing more arousal to leak out around him. “Look at how good you always take my cock, baby.”

I reveled in the praise, craning my neck to the side just so that I could watch him disappear inside of me over and over again to match the sensation of his thick cock filling me up so well that it was almost mind-numbingly good. The best part was the pleasing sound of Chan’s moans, and I admired the way that he held himself up over me so that his muscles were practically bulging as he rolled his hips with seductive grinds. Meanwhile, I was drooling over the visual of his bulging biceps, whining underneath him because Chan was being unusually rough. Not that I would ever complain since every thrust managed to brush the tip of his cock perfectly against my cervix.

But it was only after Chan reached down to add a finger to the already tight fit of his cock inside my pussy that I remembered something that I had read on the internet as part of my endless pregnancy research. My eyes flew open at the reminder, and the lustful haze surrounding my sex-addled brain quickly vanished. “Hold on, Chan,” I said, pushing against his chest and disrupting the steady rhythm he had been maintaining.

“W-what?” Chan stuttered, pulling out while watching me roll over onto my stomach.

“This is a better position,” I said, raising my ass high into the air before giving him a teasing wiggle.

“Whatever,” Chan grunted, still too gone in his pleasure to care that much about my shenanigans. He immediately caged me in with his thighs, fumbling with his erect cock before aligning the tip with my aching cunt. I was relieved when he started jostling his cock back where it belonged, meandering in elegant strokes that resulted in the best friction.

“Make sure you come,” I told him while decorating the pale skin of his shoulders with nail marks as I reached behind me.

“You first,” Chan insisted, and my heart warmed at his selflessness even while it felt like all the blood inside of me was rushing south, moving through my veins and spilling over with a rapid descent that left me seeing white while Chan moved even quicker, thrusting like a man deprived.

I felt him come only moments later with the familiar heat that I had grown to appreciate more and more over the last few months. Thereafter, I immediately reached for a pillow from behind me, wincing at the sensitivity that lingered between my legs. “What are you doing?” Chan asked when he collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s supposed to help,” I said, raising my hips to place the pillow directly underneath me. “This article said that raising your legs after sex can improve your chances.”

“That seems ridiculous, Y/N,” Chan said.

“Hey! Blame your sperm,” I countered. “It’s not my fault they need an extra boost.”

“My sperm are just fine,” Chan grunted. “You heard the doctor. They’re excellent swimmers.”

“This is just a precaution,” I told him, sighing in relief when I reached down to cup my heat, ensuring that all of Chan’s cum stayed inside where it belonged.

For the past several weeks, work had become something of a chore that I was forced to endure on a regular basis. It was often a struggle to force my way through piles of paperwork or tedious emails that always said much of the same thing. After a while, I would find myself glaring at the clock because I was quite certain that time was moving slow for the sole purpose of annoying me.

There was also the issue of dealing with my colleagues, especially the ones who liked to gossip and had effectively made a whole thing out of my failed attempts at pregnancy. “Oh, Y/N,” they would tell me. “It’s been three months, hasn’t it?”

Like they didn’t have anything better to do with their lives besides meddle in mine. But the worst of them all were the ones who decided that they were some kind of authority figures and tried to give me helpful “advice.” Everything from the shit that I had already heard from my doctor and the articles online, to bizarre practices that left me wondering where they found their information.

My manager’s personal assistant was a frequent advocate. She was far more insistent than the rest of them because she already had two kids at home who she described as future Mozarts in the making. And because she had already been successful (twice, I might add), she always sat next to me at lunch with a new suggestion that supposedly guaranteed fertilization.

“It could be that he’s under too much pressure,” she told me before biting into her salad.

“I’m asking him to have sex with me, not invent a new computer,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve both been having a lot of sex, which might seem like a good idea,” she continued. “But it might actually turn out to be far worse.”

“What do you suggest then? Should I kick him out of the bedroom for a week or two?” I snarked, but she was hardly bothered by my sarcastic attitude.

“My husband and I tried stimulating him more directly,” she explained. “Maybe you could try it out.”

“How so?”

“It’s something like a prostate massage,” she revealed in a hushed tone as if it was top-secret information. “There’s all kinds of information about it on the internet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, wanting nothing more than to brush aside her words, but maybe I was too desperate because I found myself skimming through countless articles after lunch, soaking in the vast amounts of information that I uncovered.

And I left the office that day with a new strategy in mind to surprise my husband.

The moment I first walked through the door, I was yanking off my jacket and calling for Chan who ducked his head out of our bedroom. “Why the hell are you yelling?”

“Because I have a wonderful idea,” I said, practically skipping over to him and offering him a deep kiss.

“Y/N,” Chan murmured against my touch, grabbing my shoulders to pull me back. “What are you going on about?”

“Just take your stupid clothes off,” I said, skirting past him into the bedroom. “I want you naked on the bed.”

“You’re already horny?” Chan chuckled, but he made no protest of yanking his shirt over his head.

“I want to try something,” I told him, opening the door to our closet to search for something that we hadn’t used together in a long time.

“Should I be afraid?” Chan asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he fisted his half-hard erection.

“Not if you have an open mind,” I said, turning around to hold up the bottle of lube, and Chan’s smile instantly vanished.

“What’s that for?”

“Well, tonight I’m using it on you,” I said, laughing at the way his forehead creased in confusion. “My co-worker actually made a pretty useful recommendation today.”

“Okay?...” Chan trailed off with an expression of perfect concentration - like he was doing his absolute best to understand.

“The internet called it prostate milking,” I explained, biting my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at the horrified expression on Chan’s face. “I want to stimulate your prostate.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Chan asked.

“Look, it has a lot of medical benefits,” I said. “Plus, I read that it can feel really good.”

Chan squired anxiously on the bed when I sat down next to him, and I could see that his cock was perfectly flaccid between his legs. “I don’t know, Y/N-”

“Don’t worry,” I interrupted him. “This is perfectly normal. Now, be a good boy for me and get on your hands and knees.”

Chan frowned. “Good boy?” he grumbled before obeyed my command, crawling his way up the bed to position himself in the way I had suggested.

“There we go,” I said, softly running a hand down his spine.

“So far, I’m not impressed,” Chan muttered.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” I said, situating myself behind him before palming his ass. “This looks better than I remember, Channie.”

“Yeah, I guess the squats helped,” Chan said, and he flinched when I snapped a glove in place over my right hand. “What’s that for?”

“You think I’m gonna mess around your ass without a glove?” I snorted. “That’s not very hygienic.”

“Hygienic, yeah, okay,” Chan huffed, and he let out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt when I opened the bottle of lube and drizzled some on my fingertips.

“Hold still,” I said, trying to get him to relax when my finger started circling his asshole, pushing against the tight muscle which wasn’t so easy to penetrate. However, with enough perseverance, I forced one finger inside and heard Chan release a rather unattractive sound.

“How does it feel?” I asked him, trying to move my finger around like I had read online.

“It just feels like you’ve shoved your finger up my ass,” Chan snapped, and I knew not to take it personally since he wasn’t so willing to go along with my crazy scheme in the first place.

“Don’t be so tense,” I said, rubbing my hand along his lower back. “Should I use more lube?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N,” Chan groaned, and I could tell that he was growing frustrated.

I was also losing confidence - wondering if this had been a bad idea because it definitely wasn’t as easy as my co-worker promised. Plus, I could tell that Chan was uncomfortable, squirming around under me while his cock hung limply between his legs. Clearly, he wasn’t finding any pleasure from this, and maybe it was entirely my fault for jumping into this without more preparation.

“Shit, Chan,” I said, removing my finger while releasing a sigh. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done this.”

I cleared my throat, feeling increasingly anxious when Chan refused to respond to my apology. He was still supporting himself on his hands in front of me, chest heaving up and down with each breath. I could see that the bright red tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment and that only made me feel worse because the last thing I wanted to do was make this bad for him.

Eventually, Chan rolled off to the side of the bed, collecting his sweatpants from the floor before walking into the bathroom. I closed my eyes when the door slammed behind him, and I quietly left the bedroom to give Chan some privacy because it was obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the situation.

So much for my co-worker’s stupid suggestion.

However, in the grand scheme of things, I was always the first to recognize when my actions warranted reprimand.

After sleeping on the couch in the living room, I woke-up with a sore lower back and a guilty conscious. Chan had already left for work that morning, and he probably hadn’t paid me a single glance. But I probably deserved his wrath, which meant I would do everything that I could to make it up to him.

Consequently, I found myself flashing a bright smile at Chan’s office secretary who greeted me politely before calling Chan’s phone to see if he had some time to see me. There was a small part of me which worried that Chan might send me away because of last night’s events. Thankfully, his secretary waved me inside and I took a deep breath before opening the door while carrying the packed lunch I prepared for him.

Once inside, Chan offered me a cursory glance that only lasted a brief moment until his attention was once again focused on the file in front of him. “Channie,” I said, wincing at my shrill tone. “I brought you some lunch.”

I hesitated when Chan didn’t respond - walking over to his desk to carefully deposit the bag on his desk. I waited for a brief moment, but Chan refused to acknowledge me, which meant I needed to approach him more directly. “I’m sorry about last night, Channie,” I said, coming around his desk to perch myself on the edge. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m also sorry about the past few months because I’ve been so desperate to finally have my positive pregnancy test that I started to really neglect you.”

The pen Chan had been writing with stopped in the middle of whatever sentence he had been writing, and my husband finally allowed me the privilege of looking into his dark brown eyes. “It’s hard for me to stay mad at you, Y/N,” Chan said, and I nearly burst into tears at the simple declaration.

“You deserve to be mad at me,” I said. “I can’t believe you let me get away with acting like this. You should get the husband of the year award or whatever.”

Chan chuckled, tossing his pencil aside. “Sweetheart, I know how much this means to you, and I want it just as much, but maybe it would be nice if we could be intimate sometimes without worrying about whether or not we’re following all those advice columns you read.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, and I pushed myself away from the edge of the desk and fell onto my knees in front of him - reaching out to grab his thighs between my hands. “What if I blew you right here in the office?”

Chan’s answering moan was enough to solidify my resolve, and I easily worked apart the belt fastening around his suit pants. My fingers worked with an experienced touch because this wasn’t the first time we had done something like this in his big executive office and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Fuck, Y/N,” Chan said, grabbing large handfuls of my hair while directing my lips closer to his exposed cock-head.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” I said, offering a tentative lick to his pulsating tip. Chan was already hard, and I gave him a few strokes with my hand before allowing my mouth to take care of the rest - opening wide to take him as deep as I could without gagging.

“Look at you,” Chan snarled, and his fingers traced the seam of my lips stretched obscenely around his cock.

I moaned around his erection, and Chan closed his eyes as he fingers tightened their hold - hips moving every so often to force his cock even further down my throat. But I’m sure it made for one hell of a visual, and I hollowed my cheeks as I ran my tongue across the distinct vein trailing along the underside.

“Keep going,” Chan said, and I could tell that he was close. And I started bobbing my head up and down, mimicking the same effect of his cock fucking my pussy, relaxing my throat and encouraging Chan to do whatever he needed to push himself over the edge.

He eventually came with an exaggerated groan, and I wrinkled my nose at the taste of him. Yet, I knew better than to let anything go to waste, and I struggled around the rawness of my throat as I swallowed - swiping my tongue around the head of his spent cock to clean up the excess.

“Was it good?” I asked him with a hoarse voice.

“Of course it was,” Chan replied, encouraging me off the floor and into his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as I listened to his heart slow back down to normal. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, teasing his lips across mine. “You’re not gonna freak out over the fact that we just wasted my perfectly good semen?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully hitting his shoulder. “It’s never a waste if it makes you come like that.”

He smiled, bringing out the fullness of his dimples, and we sat together while Chan ate his lunch and I mindlessly talked about the latest office gossip. It was moments like these that I loved more than anything about my marriage to Chan - pregnancy be damned. Ironically, it was only a few weeks later that I found myself looking down at a thin white strip with a blue cross displayed across the surface: positive.

#stayverse #skzsmutnetwork #skzwriternet #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan fanfic #chan fanfic #skz chan fanfic #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #skz fluff #skz reader insert

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kookingtae · 5 years

Text

falling into you (pt. 7)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt 6

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→word count: 21k+

→tw: mentions of child abuse and neglect/abandonment, abuse of drugs/alcohol

→a/n: NOT COMPLETED YET

You felt like you were going to suffocate the moment you stepped into Jungkook’s room.

The memories came rushing back to you like a tsunami, waves and waves of so many different emotions crashing over you and threatening to crush your windpipes only after strangling you whole. You didn’t know what was so difficult; you’d been in Jungkook’s room multiple times before, hadn’t you? You were fine then (if the storm of emotions in your chest and butterflies in your stomach could be considered fine). What made it so different now?

But the moment Jungkook turned to you, the soft exhale falling from his faintly parted lips causing you to become hyper aware of the rhythm of his breathing surrounded by perfectly pink lips, you understood.

It was hard for you to grasp the concept of actually being nervous, giddy after your first real kiss with someone. A kiss had always been just that to you: a kiss. They were all the same.

“I uh–“ Jungkook cleared his throat, and if you didn’t know better you’d say he was feeling the same way you were. “We can sit at the desk to study. I’ll take my roommate’s chair; he’s never here anyways.”

You raised a skeptical brow at him, the faintest hint of amusement on your lips as if to say, really. “He’s never here?”

A fiery blush instantly inflamed his cheeks. “Y-you just have bad timing is all.”

The fact that he considered his roommate interrupting your kiss bad timing made your heart speed up way more than you’d like to admit.

“Well let’s hope timing is on my side today,” you managed to say with the practiced ease of coy confidence despite being the most nervous you’ve ever been around a guy, sauntering past him and taking a seat in his desk chair.

Jungkook stayed frozen for a moment before eventually pulling up Trip’s chair a safe yet manageable distance from you, and you were surprised by the normalcy of the situation as you started actually studying.

Things were a little slow at first, what with Jungkook’s timid nature of stumbling over his words and you not knowing a single thing about the class you’ve supposedly been in for an entire semester. But after a while, things began to go smoothly. You found a chapter that aligned with the notes you printed off, and Jungkook was in his element.

It surprised you how smart he was. You always knew he would be, what with the classes he’s taking and how much he prioritizes studying. But getting to see him in action, that was the real catalyst of the evening. You found yourself getting lost in the motion of his fingers over the pages, the movement of his lips as he spewed knowledge of advanced cell division. And when it came time for you to answer a question, Jungkook blinked at you expectantly while your eyes stayed glazed over in the daze of your reverie.

“Uh...” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks heating up under the scrutiny of your stare. “Y/N?”

That certainly got your attention; a sound you weren’t accustomed to hearing fell from his lips in the form of your name, and within seconds you were snapping out of it and looking at him in surprise while desperately trying to ignore the somersaults in your stomach. “Yes?”

“We were talking about which phase this nuclear subdivision occurs?”

You blinked at him. “Phase... one?”

“S-phase.”

“What?”

“We’re analyzing the nuclear subdivision of S-phase,” he sighed, putting his pen down and turning to face you. “You’re not listening to any of this, are you?”

“I am, I really am,” you frowned, the idea of him thinking you weren’t appreciative of his efforts breaking your heart. “I mean... I’m honestly trying to. The truth is,” your shoulders deflated with a sigh, “it’s kind of hard to focus with you, Jungkook.”

His brows shot up at that. “W-with me? What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing!” You hurried to reassure him. “You’re perfect. I-I mean—this, this is perfect.” You gestured around the desk, your cheeks aflame. “It’s just... I...” another sigh left your lips; the innocent concern in his doe eyes was heart wrenching. “I’m sorry. I just need to take this more seriously. We can continue.”

And so you did. Jungkook wasn’t the type to question your words, so thankfully you didn’t have to explain your flustered stutters. And no matter how strong the magnetic pull that he had over you was, the song of the sirens drawing you closer and closer until the thought of kissing him was burning in your brain like an iron brand, you somehow managed to have control over yourself and hold back. You wanted to be respectful, to gain Jungkook’s trust so that he didn’t think you were just using him to get laid rather than actually wanting his help, because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

And so you studied and studied and studied until the little clock at Jungkook’s bedside read 11:00 at night and the boy next to you let out a yawn.

You, on the other hand, felt delirious—exhausted from the mental overload yet wired from the boy’s presence, like a coffee addict after pulling an all nighter. You pressed your forehead to the textbook; the pages were cool against your heated skin.

“I s-should probably get to sleep,” Jungkook mumbled—the boy who could confidently spew scientific data all day long but had trouble saying goodbye. “Early class is tomorrow.”

“Right.” You tried to mask the disappointment in your voice; the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel bad for wanting to sleep. You wanted him to sleep. He worked too damn much. “I should probably get going too. Another word about cells and my brain will physically implode.”

Jungkook chuckled—a soft, rare sound that had your heart leaping in your throat. You wanted nothing more than to stay with him—no amount of time ever seemed long enough—but you really didn’t know how much more studying you could take. You were lost in thought staring at the way his perfectly pink lips moved a majority of the time anyway. The sight made your body heat up—specifically your cheeks and groin.

You didn’t like the feeling of blushing. It was something you weren’t accustomed to, something that didn’t usually happen. You never really got embarrassed about anything, and the idea of blushing around a boy was completely nonexistent in your life. But with Jungkook, everything’s changed... your entire world had been flipped upside down. Nothing was as you knew it before.

You didn’t like the feeling of not being in control of your own emotions like this. It was completely different than letting loose with drugs or alcohol; you were choosing to alter your state of mind with those substances. But to be completely at the mercy of someone else... it was foreign. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve ended things immediately.

But this was Jungkook. And no matter how scary these changes were, he made you want to change. For him.

***

After saying your goodbyes to Jungkook that night, the two of you agreed to meet whenever you both were free. He needed to find time for the ample amount of studying of his own that he did, of course, and you had no problem canceling plans for a frat party or smoke session with friends to go see him.

Your friends didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, however.

“We never see you anymore,” Taehyung frowned one day when you turned down a visit to the local bar off campus in favor of meeting Jungkook after class—to see if he wanted to study, of course.

“Tae, I live with you.”

“I mean we, as a group,” he whined, completely unfazed. “You spend all your time at Jungkook’s beck and call now.”

You merely scoffed. “Okay, that’s not true, first of all. I spend literally every waking moment with you guys because I don’t own a car. And second of all, that’s only because his ‘beck and call’ is fucking rare! It’s not like it happens all the time!”

“Hey.” A deep voice suddenly cut in to quell the conversation, and when you turned your head Yoongi was taking a joint from between his lips. You watched as he inhaled again before slowly letting the smoke escape and dissipate into the chilled night air.

There was a moment’s silence before: “I think what Tae’s trying to say is that it just feels like you’ve changed,” Suzy chimed in without prompt. “Not your personality or anything, obviously, but just like... you don’t really participate anymore.”

As if on cue Namjoon passed you a blunt, and you started to bring it to your lips out of habit before suddenly realizing what you were doing and quickly passing it to Jimin. Your expression turned sheepish as you directed your attention to Suzy.

“That’s not fair,” you grumbled. They knew how you felt about him. They knew how much you had been pining after him since the moment you met, and they knew how closed off Jungkook was. Couldn’t they just be happy for you that you were finally making progress? “You make it seem like I don’t have fun anymore. The only thing I’ve given up is smoking—only when I’m seeing him after—and sleeping around!”

Your friends paused at your words, and you didn’t think you were imagining the literal cricket sounds in the background of the silent forest.

“You’ve given up sex?” Lynn was the first to speak.

“You guys make it sound as if it was a conscious decision,” you chuckled awkwardly in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I just wanna focus on him for a while, okay?”

“Yeah but...” Hoseok trailed off before glancing at your friends.

“Honey, I think what we‘re trying to say is we don’t know... how long he’s going to take to put out.” Kate interjected in a gentle tone. “You could be waiting a while, and there’s nothing wrong with fulfilling the need while you wait. You two aren’t dating yet, right?”

“But that’s just it: I don’t have the desire right now,” you shrugged. A part of you really wished you hadn’t given up a hit of that blunt. You could use it right about now. “Not with anyone but him, at least. Our connection, guys...” you trailed off with a shake of your head in disbelief and bit your bottom lip. How did you even begin to describe the visceral, intangible connection you had whenever the two of you were around each other? The literal fucking spark of electricity when you merely touched? “And besides, I’m fine waiting; I’m not a fucking addict.”

“We’re just trying to look out for you,” Suzy smiled softly. “We don’t wanna see you choose to do something you’ll regret later.”

“It’s just new to us,” Jimin chimed in. “We’re used to seeing this carefree, wild and crazy side of you. I never even knew you had the capacity to retain this many emotions.”

“Okay, fuck you,” you snorted, and the rest of them joined in on the laughter. It wasn’t until you checked your phone moments later that you jumped up from your seat on the picnic bench. “Shit, Jungkook should be getting out of class now. I’m gonna go see if he wants study.”

Tae teasingly made a whipping motion with his hand along with the sound, and you rolled your eyes in amusement before heading down the familiar path through the woods that led out on the other side of the science building.

While heading in the direction of the arts building that Jungkook would be leaving at any second now, you couldn’t help but think about how this moment paralleled the first time you ever met him. You had just smoked in stoner’s trail before waltzing through the campus like some fucking contemporary dancer, music in your head and high out of your mind before the senses were knocked right out of you—figuratively and literally—when you accidentally bumped into the freshman boy. You had been walking the same exact route you were walking now, and yet the mindsets you were in couldn’t be more different. Not just because you had been under the influence, but just in general—the way you viewed things, your current choice of lifestyle. You still held the same morals, don’t get you wrong; no one could ever change the core beliefs of who you were. But before, there wasn’t anything more to life than living in the present, than partying and being free.

It was funny how while trying to be the epitome of free, you had unknowingly put yourself in a cage, unable to break away from the social construct of the cycle you’d put yourself in since your own freshman year.

Well, to hell with constructs. To hell with rules of sleeping with people and never letting your armor crack. It felt so nice to finally want to share that part of yourself with someone—the part you’d kept hidden for so long, the part you’d wanted to keep buried from even yourself.

You always thought Jungkook’s way of living was so different from yours—that he was timid and distant while you were outgoing and confident—but it turned out Jungkook just didn’t bullshit his way through life. He didn’t put on a mask and pretend to be someone he’s not; he wasn’t afraid of being alone. And while the outward projections of your personality weren’t fake—you were still unapologetically yourself, through and through—it still kept hidden the deeper, darker aspects you didn’t want anyone to see. There still hasn’t been a single person in your life that you’ve opened up to about your past. And maybe, that meant you were more alone than you thought.

But there was something about this boy that was different—not how he acted, but how he made you feel. You wanted to open up to Jungkook, as scary as that was. And you weren’t going to let the cage of fear keep you trapped from doing so.

Easier said than done, you thought as you approached the arts building and broke out into a prickling sweat when you saw the magnificent boy standing there, under the streetlamp, waiting for you.

Your footing stuttered, stunned. He was waiting for you. You realized with a fluttering heart just how much times had actually changed.

When he saw you approach, his eyes resembled his usual deer-in-headlights expression upon making eye contact before he turned to face you fully. You could’ve sworn the corners of his mouth turned up to just barely form the beginnings of a smile, but your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you. He’s never been happy to see you, ever.

“Hi,” you spoke on exhale in a breathless tone once you slowed to a stop in front of him, hair windswept behind you after the brisk walk you’d taken to get here in time and cheeks tinged pink from the cold as you beamed up at him; the expression came natural, as if your teeth couldn’t help but bare themselves in his presence.

“Hi,” he replied, his features mirroring your own. You melted at the sight of his shy smile. “I uh– I got your text.”

“You want to study?” You raised your brows at the suggestion, then before your big mouth could shut up its rambling: “Well, me studying—you tutoring, I guess...” you trailed off with a chuckle, mentally berating yourself.

Jungkook nibbled on his bottom lip, an action that always drew your close attention in longing before he finally nodded. “Yeah.”

The trek to his dorm was thankfully not a long one as the temperatures seemed to be dropping by the millisecond this time of night. You welcomed the familiar silence by Jungkook’s side and tugged your jacket closed tighter across your chest, and you weren’t sure if it was just your imagination or wishful thinking but it seemed that the two of you would drift closer to one another as you walked.

There was thankfully no roommate again in Jungkook’s dorm when the two of you entered; it could be a hit or miss these days, what with the way he kept barging in on you two at the worst of times.

You sat your backpack down on his desk—Tae gave you one of his old ones once you admitted that you never actually owned one—and the two of you set to work on shoving so much nuclear subdivision down your throat that you almost wished for death.

“Death would be a kindness, actually,” you sat up with a groan and rubbed your temples, “compared to dealing with this shit.”

“Well, technically, you deal with it everyday,” Jungkook threw in matter-of-factly, and when you shot him a look behind lids low with a mixture of exhaustion and boredom, he trailed off with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause, you know... with... cells.”

“Can we please take a break?” You sighed before crossing your legs beneath you and turning to face him. “My brain needs time to process everything.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study tonight?”

“I did—I do, just...” you frowned, not wanting to seem unappreciative of his efforts. Haven’t you been studying for the past two hours? Just how hard did this boy go when it came to cramming? “Can’t we play a quick game or something? Just to take our minds off of it for a bit.”

Jungkook had his eyes widened, and it was impossible not to shift under his scrutiny when you would normally be calm and collected. “A g-game?”

“Yeah, it could be anything!” You put a hand to your forehead with your elbow resting on the desk, eyes desperately scanning his room as you tried to think of something. “It could be as simple as a staring contest for all I care. A staring contest!” You raised your brows at the sudden idea, grasping at straws. “If I win we get to take a real break, and if you win we can go back to studying.”

Jungkook blinked at you, his lips slightly agape as he seemed to process your words. After a couple moments of fidgeting, he finally replied, “uh... okay.”

You grinned at his agreement to your antics and started getting situated in your seat. He followed suit shortly after, wiping his palms on the sides of his pants and adjusting his posture.

“Ready?” You asked, amusement dancing on your lips.

He took a deep breath before nodding, and it was when you said go! that his eyes fixed you with the most intense stare you’ve ever witnessed in your life.

Instantly your entire body stiffened; the reaction was visceral, and the icy hot heat in your veins felt like hell frozen over as you resisted the sudden urge to choke on your hitched breath and call time out.

Never had you been subjected to his prolonged gaze before—the exact opposite, actually. You vividly remember when you used to fight to get him to make eye contact with you, so to say the contrast was making your head whirl would be putting it lightly. It also gave you the first chance to study the swirling pools of brown that were his eyes, so you were going to do just that.

You never noticed just how complex his eyes really were; they held a terrifying amount of depth to them. Don’t get you wrong, they were one of your favorite things about him—just the thought of the big orbs was enough to turn your insides to mush—but never had you been bestowed the privilege of staring into them so unabashedly, so unapologetically and freely as you were now. And by god, were they beautiful.

You watched as a shade of pink sprouted on the apples of his cheeks, first in soft rosy hues and then in bright crimson as it made a trail all the way to the tips of his ears. You bit your lip to keep from smiling at the endearing sight, if only to save your lids from the instinctive blink that was currently eating away at you, and it was when his gaze followed the action that his cheeks really became aflame.

Eventually he cleared his throat and readjusted himself, his competitive nature seemingly starting to shine through, and that was when the intensity of his gaze burned through the distance between you like fire. It scorched your skin until the small dorm room started to feel like an oven and your breath was stifled in the heat that boiled between you. Your breathing turned shallow; it felt like you were drowning in his gaze the longer he held you captive with his eyes without any means of returning to the surface for that redeeming gasp of air. Your body began to prickle with a darker, deeper sensation—first in the palms of your hands, then to the depths of your core.

You gulped. Your mouth was suddenly drier than the Sahara desert, though water was the last thing on your mind as you watched his tongue slip out to quickly wet his lips before returning to the caverns of his mouth again, and that was when you held back an audible groan.

It‘s as if the universe was taunting you.

A replay of your stolen kiss in this bedroom many nights ago appeared in your head, and you physically pressed your thighs together to keep from doing something rash. You still wanted to respect his boundaries, still wanted him to take you and your reason for being here seriously. Yet the memory continued to fester in your mind like an open wound, coming further and further to the forefront of your brain, and you shifted in your seat while forcing the feeling down to try to steady your erratically beating heart.

You had never experienced anything like this before. Sure, you were more than used to gazing into someone’s intense eyes in much more intimate settings than this—when they were over you, under you, inside you. But for some reason, those instances had no where near the same effect that Jungkook’s gaze had on you in a mere staring contest. What were you, in grade school?

It was embarrassing is what it was; you didn’t get flustered. It just didn’t happen to you. You were always able to keep your cool, to hold yourself together while the other person was usually the one melting in the palm of your hand. That was what you were accustomed to, and so this foreign concept of blushing and thinking about nothing but how badly you wanted to feel someone’s lips was completely new to you.

And so after a beat of tension, you decided to throw all caution to the wind and succumb to it.

•••

Jungkook felt like he was being burned alive.

Having to remain still, unmoving and scrutinized under Y/N’s gaze sounded like a nightmare when she’d first suggested it. He actively tried to avoid eye contact with her, lest he burst into flames right there on the spot, and now she wanted him to be forced to stare at her? Without any means of escaping?

He couldn’t think of anything more terrifying.

He felt vulnerable. There was something so intimate about eye contact—how no one could mutter a sound, and yet right now the entire room seemed to constrict against the flood of unspoken words that drowned the air around them. The eyes were the windows to the soul, they’d say, and Jungkook felt he may as well be carving his out and handing it to her on a silver platter what with the way her gaze formed unstoppable electricity between them. It made him nervous, to have her so close to him in this intangible way, and the thought had him squirming in his chair with an instinctive need to put up his walls.

Though he was sure that not even closing his eyes would grant him solace now, because she had now worked her way into every fiber of his being through the glistening mirrors of her eyes and planted a seed of strange emotion inside of him that felt so deep, so primal that it had grown monstrous in just the short amount of time they’d been playing this self-sabotaging game.

Instantly he could feel his cheeks aflame; they felt white hot against the rest of his burning skin, though the sensation didn’t show any signs of stopping when she suddenly started to lean forward.

Her movements were slow, subtle, as if his body was a magnet physically pulling her to him, yet she had to be aware of what she was doing. He wouldn’t even have noticed had he not been paying such close attention to her as he always was. And even though he wanted nothing more than to lean forward as well and close the remaining distance between them, a thought he’d had on his mind since that fateful night in his dorm room, he suddenly panicked, and—

“I-I blinked,” he suddenly stumbled out through shaking lips before turning away, his eyes closing to ease the sting after holding them open for so long. “Looks like you won.”

He couldn’t do it. Jungkook was competitive by nature, so normally he wouldn’t have thrown the challenge so willingly, but he didn’t know what else to do. Not when she was staring at him so sinfully and moving so close he could practically feel the breath from her lips on his, and suddenly every nervous bone in his body was taking over and his fight or flight kicked in. And he fled every time.

He would kick himself for this—for pushing away the opportunity to kiss her again. He knew he would, as he could already feel the inklings of regret creeping in and rearing its ugly head within his gut like the head of a serpent. Fear would be his demise.

Though Y/N must’ve been able to see this on his face as well, because there was sudden slight shake of her head as if to say fuck it before she grabbed the tip of his chin between her thumb and index finger and gently brought his lips to hers.

•••

You could hear his breath catch in his throat the moment your lips finally touched his, could feel his sweet exhale as it danced on your skin. You were aware that all of these reactions were happening, and yet they sent your insides into a tumultuous frenzy anyways.

Nirvana. That’s what kissing Jungkook felt like—as if you had finally reached your destination of enlightenment and could finally experience true happiness. It was such a sweet, sweet relief after pining over the sensation for so long, though you couldn’t be further from inner peace; every nerve in your body was instantly electrocuted with pure white heat, every hair on your arm standing tall from the elicited goosebumps. And there was a sharp pleasure that snapped at the base of your neck, shooting all the way down your spine and churning your stomach like a raging storm on a restless sea before making home in the pit of your core.

Your memory hadn’t done his lips justice. How was it possible that it felt even better than you imagined? You’d done nothing but play your kiss on repeat in the highest regard of your mind since the moment it ended, yet it was no where near the same as being here in this moment with him against you. This was it. Kissing him were the best moments of your life thus far.

And though the stiffness of Jungkook’s body only turned rigid with shock at the feeling of your sudden actions, he was no where near as distraught as when you’d kissed him the past two times (once, not even returning to brief peck and another, taking what seemed like an eternity to finally come to). No, it was this time that he finally seemed to be warming up to you as it took him only a few moments to reciprocate your kiss, and your heart was singing in your chest when he did.

You knew it had to be the result of your efforts. Thanks to your tutoring sessions, he had become more comfortable and at ease with your presence over time. You were slowly worming your way past the tall barriers of his guarded heart. At least, that’s what you liked to think. That’s what you hoped.

And so you didn’t waste any time kissing him like you’ve been wanting—needing to ever since your lips last left his. Every emotion, every desire that you never even knew you could feel were brought to life inside the caverns of your heart, igniting like the flickering flame of a candle and bursting into a forest fire that left a blazing trail in the wake of his touch. You always thought romance novels were bullshit until you realized that the literal fireworks that would burst behind them when they kissed were metaphors for the figurative fireworks that you now felt exploding within you in a pinwheel of colors that matched his eyes. You were consumed by him, and god, did you want to be consumed by him.

The heated escalation that the two of you were robbed of last time was not missed tonight; you carefully brought your hand to his neck again, so not to scare him off with something new, and it was then that Jungkook’s hand gently settled on top of yours. You paused, worried that he would remove your hand—was this too much? But when you felt his fingers suddenly curl into yours to anchor your hold to him, fire erupting from his initiated contact as he leaned into your touch, all hell broke loose.

You felt like an addict, the way you craved him over the air you breathed. Instead it was his scent you were taking into your lungs, his touch that was like an overdose of morphine straight to the blood stream. And when it seemed promising that his front door would stay shut this time, no signs of his interrupting roommate in sight, there was nothing stopping the two of you from breaking past the barriers previously set and finally letting go.

Your hand slid from his neck to his shoulder and it was like your body had a mind of its own, some deeper instinct that you had no control over taking the reins as you closed the small gap between you and moved to situate yourself on his chair, in his lap, a primal need taking over to be as close to him as possible and feel every–

Your second knee didn’t make it onto his chair before he was suddenly shooting upright to stand on his feet, the sudden loss of his lips feeling like a splash of cold water striking you awake from your deeply charged daze. You barely even noticed how you almost landed on your ass as you stumbled back unceremoniously from his departure, for all you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes.

“J-Jungkook, I’m—I’m so sorry, I–I didn’t–“

“N-no, i-it’s okay.” His voice was hoarse, strained before he cleared his throat. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and he was more flustered than you had ever seen him. “I—I think you should probably leave.”

“Jungkook–“

“Now,” he gulped heavily, a pained and almost panicked expression on his face that he seemed to be fighting. “I’m sorry, I’m j-just... I’ve never–“

“Hey, it’s okay,” you swallowed, fighting to keep the pain from your face as you reached forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder before second guessing yourself and letting it fall back to your side. You offered a soft, understanding smile instead. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jungkook winced—about what, you didn’t know. “I just uh– I-I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, forcing an optimistic expression despite the growing lump in your throat. “Yeah I’ll uh– I’ll see you later.”

The swell of emotion swarming in your chest threatened to overflow and you knew you had to get out of there, fast. You couldn’t let Jungkook see the buried feelings beneath your cracking armor of false-confidence—not even after all the progress of self-vulnerability you’d made.

It was the first time you couldn’t leave Jungkook’s dorm soon enough.

Your face crumbled as soon as the door shut behind you. How could you let that happen? You had such a good feeling about the two of you—that he was actually beginning to trust you and let you in—and then you had to go and ruin it. Jungkook would see you as nothing more than promiscuous, think you just wanted to get in his pants, which was exactly what you‘d been afraid of. You knew he’d heard the rumors about you in the past, but you figured if you just continued in your earnest pursuit that he would finally see that you valued him as more, so much more than that.

And all that led to was you getting thrown out after pushing things too far past his comfort zone.

You tried to steady your chest that heaved erratically beneath the weight of promised tears. If Jungkook didn’t hate you before, he definitely did now.

•••

“Ah!”

Jungkook’s grunt was loud with unabashed pleasure as he came in his hand, letting the abundant load wash down the drain and thanking god for the millionth time that he had a scarce roommate. He knew even the heavy water pressure pummeling the shower floor wasn’t enough to mask his sounds; he could normally contain himself under quiet control, but tonight his body had other plans for him. No, he forfeited all control over his body the second he popped a rock solid boner that Y/N was definitely going to feel had she continued her line of pursuit to his lap.

It had been painful, throbbing under the constraint of his jeans, and he knew no matter what that he had to get Y/N out of his dorm before the fear of blowing his load right then and there strangled him whole. It tore him apart to see the look of confusion, the look of hurt in her eyes as she tried to make sense of the whiplash that his sudden objection put them through, but what else could he do? This was further than he ever dreamed of going with her—mentally, emotionally, and physically. To say he was overwhelmed would be putting it lightly.

This time he came more than ever before. He knew it had to be a result of the very real physical intimacy that was happening rather than just a figment of his creative imagination; and the sad part was, nothing had even happened—at least by her standards, he was sure. They had been making out, the experience even more mind-altering than the first if that was even possible, and Jungkook had popped a boner over the mere feeling of her lips, same as before. The only difference this time was that Trip had not been there to interrupt their heated moment, and so Y/N progressed as one usually would in that situation. He couldn’t fault her for it—not when he so desperately wanted the same things. He wanted to feel her as close to him as possible, as scary as that was to admit now that it was so real, so tangible and obtainable. He couldn’t believe it was really happening, and he became so wrapped up in his emotions of the moment that when her first knee made home on the edge of his chair, just outside the thigh of his that was closest to her, he couldn’t stop. All he knew was Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. But when he felt her second knee moving with the intention to straddle his lap, to be as physically close to him as he’d ever let her—as he’d ever let anyone—that’s when he felt his erect member twitch in reminder of just how excited he was in that moment.

He panicked. The thought of her feeling something so intimate in him was mortifying. She’d been with countless men; how embarrassing was it that he was leaking over just a kiss? She’d certainly be able to suspect his inexperience then.

As surprising as it was for him to admit, he just didn’t want to disappoint her. When it came to intimate activities, he was sure she’d seen it all. It wasn’t that he didn’t want things to go further; the mere thought made his entire body break out into goosebumps. He just couldn’t help but feel insecure in comparison.

Which was why he shot up from his chair like the seat was on fire. He hated that he was doing this—absolutely hated it—but the longer she stood there the more he worried she would notice the raging hard-on in his pants. She had to get out of there, and fast, if only for the sake of his sanity.

The way he rushed to the shower the second his door closed made him feel horrible. God, he was no better than a disgusting hormonal teenager, was he? Here she was thinking she had done something wrong, and embarrassment kept Jungkook from reassuring her otherwise. He couldn’t let her walk away thinking this was her fault. He couldn’t.

Hi, he typed out under her name in his phone before he could stop himself—it was all he could do to dry his hands fast enough before his phone got water damage. I just wanted to apologize again for tonight. I didn’t mean for it to feel like I was kicking you out. He chewed on his bottom lip, self-doubt causing him to second guess every word that he was writing, but he refused to let anything be erased. We can meet up again sometime soon if you want? For tutoring

There were only a few minutes of mental berating that he had to endure before her reply chimed in like a breath of fresh air.

it’s no problem, don’t worry about it! i would love that :)

•••

After that, you continued to meet up for tutoring at a casual pace.

You worked hard to make sure your sessions seemed regular, relaxed, so not to add any extra pressure onto Jungkook’s shoulders. You had been on your way to the edge of the road waiting for Namjoon to pick you up when you received Jungkook’s text of forgiveness, and though the genuine gesture warmed your heart, you couldn’t help the way its beating spiked in your chest when you continued reading to see that he made an effort yet again to plan to get together with you.

At the time, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Here you were in the middle of self-loathing, and he was the one contacting you? The natural grin that sparked on your features couldn’t be stopped. Maybe you didn’t ruin things after all. Maybe Jungkook was warming up to you more than you thought.

That being said, you certainly weren’t going to push things at your next sessions. It was clear your previous actions had made him uncomfortable in some way, and that was the last thing you wanted. So you continued to keep things going in a moderate, somewhat professional yet casual manner; as hard as that was for you, it was worth it in the long run. He was worth it.

One of the benefits you loved reaping from your study sessions was that you could see his personality, his true personality that was kept hidden beneath the layers of caution and hesitation that he would wear as armor to keep you out, was finally starting to shine through the cracks. You would catch glimpses of it when you least expected, in a silly quip or witty one liner that he would comeback with after your teasing that would leave you stunned and smiling to yourself at the notion that you were finally seeing Jungkook, the real Jungkook that so few got to know, and you were falling in love with every piece of him.

“So if the mitosis is the powerhouse of the cell then what the fuck is the nucleus?”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said.”

It was another day of studying in his isolated dorm room, and you could not be more over it. The material was beyond tedious and excruciatingly boring at this point, though you would endure a thousand biology lessons if it meant getting to spend time with him.

“My ass still hurts from the last time I sat in this seat,” you pointed out, your brain literally begging to focus on anything other than the words in your textbook. It needed a break. The pain in your backside would do as a viable distraction.

A tut fell from Jungkook’s lips. “Yeah, the desk chairs are pretty uncomfortable.” You watched as his expression fell in favor of nibbling his bottom lip, and you’d studied his shy mannerisms long enough to know that there was something itching at his mind. “You can, um,” he started with a mumbled voice, “you can sit on the bed this time, if you want. I’ll take the chair.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “No, that’s not fair–“

“I don’t mind,” he smiled softly, and the sight was so rare, so beautiful that it rendered you speechless and you had no choice but to oblige.

His bed was soft and smelled of him; you were instantly transported back to when the two of you had brought a bowl of popcorn up here and turned on One Piece—both of which were quickly forgotten in favor of beautiful boy sitting next to you who demanded all of your attention whether he wanted it or not. It was like you were a moth drawn to his flame; you couldn’t help the magnetic pull every fiber of your being had to him.

You desperately pushed down the memories of the life changing make out session that had happened next, if only for your sanity. “Hey, what if we continued watching One Piece–“

“No.”

•••

“Apoptosis,” you recalled to him after a few hours into your session. “The death of cells.”

Jungkook slowly nodded his head. “Right. It occurs as a normal and controlled part of an organism’s growth or development.”

“Will I have to know all that extra stuff?” You looked up at him under furrowed brows.

He simply shrugged. “Probably. It’s not too hard to remember why it’s happening once you know what it is.”

“Easy for you to say; the textbooks right in front of you!”

You were relieved when he let out a chuckle—one that you would never get tired of hearing—and you couldn’t help but acknowledge how much more comfortable things now were between you. You still had a long ways to go, of course; he still closed up when you spoke too much, returned to his flustered and distant self whenever things got off the topic of biology, and it reminded you of how shy he acted when you first met. But things were definitely better. For instance, you were now able to hold a casual and somewhat teasing conversation with him without scaring him away.

“I guess you’ll just have to study more,” Jungkook replied with a grin, and you rolled your eyes in amusement to ignore the butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach at his seemingly harmless offer to prolong your tutoring.

It all felt so pure, so fresh with him—like you were a giddy school girl all over again with a hopeless crush. And though you knew your feelings were much, much more than that, you couldn’t help but feel young and flustered in his presence.

Another yawn forced its way past your lips as you rested your head on the back of your hands, now fully laying down on top of his bed. Scientific data danced off his tongue as if he were serenading you with poetry, and the sound of his voice was as soothing as smooth velvet and honey as it encased you in a blanket of warmth and lulled you to your dreams.

•••

Jungkook let out a yawn after a particularly long paragraph he’d been reading from the textbook, his eyes flashing to the clock on his phone. 1:04 am, it read.

His eyes widened slightly. Last he checked it was 10:30. How had the time gotten away from him like that? Surely it couldn’t simply be because he lost track while enjoying her company...

He didn’t know why he even bothered to lie to himself anymore.

With another yawn her turned towards her. “I didn’t realize how late–“

He froze mid-sentence, turning rigid in his seat. There, in the middle of his bed with her head on his pillow, hair softly splayed out behind her as she curled on her side, was Y/N.

And she was fast asleep.

He blinked after a moment, if only to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, but it seemed the efforts were futile. There was no mistaking her still, undisturbed lids that brought her soft lashes to kiss the top of her cheekbones. There was no misinterpreting the slow rise and fall of her chest. And if he listened closely, which he always did, there was no misunderstanding the gentle breaths of air that cascaded from her lips like a soft sea breeze. She was asleep, no doubt about it.

And it was once he realized this, the initial surprise chipping away at his guarded heart, that he softened at the sight. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful like this. He had never seen a more breathtaking scene than the one before him now, and in this moment there was no way he could believe a single one of those incriminating rumors being spread about her. She looked like a breath of innocence laying there, a vast contrast to the reputation that proceeded her, and if Jungkook didn’t know better he would’ve guessed in this moment that she never knew an ounce of pain, had never been corrupted by the harsh realities of life. His classmates’, Trip’s words were nothing but a distant memory as he gazed down at her like she was the sun, moon and stars all wrapped into one, and even though she was in his sanctuary, the one place that he went to for escape from the rest of the world, he wanted nothing more than for her to stay.

A strong, deep and overwhelming emotion threatened to climb its way from his throat in the sudden desperate need to be spoken into existence, but he swallowed the feeling down.

She would take his bed tonight. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

•••

You awoke feeling more well-rested than you‘d felt in a long time.

Instantly warmth enveloped you. And not from in the inside out, but rather the outside in: blankets, fluffy and cozy and billowing around you in a haphazard disarray as evidence that you had a good sleep all night long. The mattress beneath you was comfortable, spacious–

A little too spacious.

Your eyes shot open at the realization, a confused and groggy frown marring your features. This was not the familiar couch at Taehyung’s apartment that you were used to crashing on; this wasn’t a couch at all, in fact.

Oh fuck.

Did you break your number one rule? There’s no way; even in an inebriated state, you always remembered to catch a ride home. It had become second nature, was all you’d known these past three years. There’s no way you could’ve broken it now after all this time. You didn’t even remember drinking last night. Just how fucked up did you get?

You shot upright at the thought, instantly moving to scramble from the bed and swiftly escape the room before the drunken fuck could see. You had to get out of here. How could you have been so careless? Why did you–

It was your body and your mind alike that came screeching to a halt when your eyes fell to the bedroom floor.

He was there on the floor with a pillow and blanket arranged in a makeshift bed, the boy who made your breath hitch at the mere sight of him and sent your heart into overdrive.

Jungkook was asleep. Jungkook let you stay the night. Jungkook gave you his bed.

Suddenly the memories of last night were shifting into view to rearrange all the mangled panic that habit led you to believe upon waking up in an unfamiliar environment. Of course you didn’t party last night and go home with a drunken fuck; you were at Jungkook’s place studying until the early hours of the morning. You must’ve fallen asleep during your session.

Embarrassment tinged your cheeks at the realization, though the thought soon dissipated as the sight of him consumed every single synapses in your brain like it always did.

Your previously rigid and guarded posture soon softened while you gently laid back down on the bed with a sigh, simply gazing at him and unable to peel your eyes away. He was so beautiful that it hurt. You’ve always thought so of course, and even so, seeing him in his most vulnerable state was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. To see him without worry or fear etched into his brow, without his defenses up was truly a work of art and you were the luckiest person in the world to bear witness to it.

The smile that graced your lips was not lost on you, though you simply reveled in the happiness that swarmed your soul as you burrowed back into his sheets and took in the heavenly scent of his that surrounded you. This was his bed, the most private and vulnerable place that you could ever possibly be, and he was allowing you to be here. And that meant that nothing, nothing could pull your head from the clouds of pure heaven that you danced among in this moment.

The sudden swell of deep emotion and realization in your chest was so visceral, so much stronger than anything you’d ever felt before. You never wanted to leave him like this. You wanted to wake up to see him there for a long, long time.

However, the same couldn’t be said for the manner in which you were seeing him; a wave of concern and guilt soon wracked your frame at the fact that he had forgone the comfort of his own bed for you in favor of taking the hard ground. And before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself slipping from between the sheets and onto the floor beside him.

You didn’t know how much time had passed while you admired him. His cheeks were round with sleep, lips plump and pouted looking the most irresistible and adorable you ever knew a human could. There was a lock of soft brown hair that hung across his forehead, and you nearly resisted the urge to brush it from his eyes if only to count the number of lashes dusting his cheekbones.

Nearly being the keyword there—the attempt was futile, of course, as there wasn’t a bone in your body that could resist him.

The spark between both of your nerve-endings danced as your fingers gently caressed his skin, hooking behind the lock of hair and gently sweeping it out of his face in a reverent display of affection. Your touch couldn’t have been any more than a feather, you knew it couldn’t have, and yet his closed lids fluttered anyway.

You quickly withdrew your hand so not to scare the slowly stirring boy before you, though in the end that didn’t stop his surprise upon seeing you.

The speed in which his eyes bulged open was almost comical.

“Y/N?” His lids were still fluttering in groggy confusion when he murmured your name in a voice thick with sleep, and holy hell, you could have died and gone to heaven right then and there for all you knew.

Is this what you’d been missing out on? Did all men’s voices sound this sexy in the morning, or was it just his? You had a very strong feeling it was the latter.

“Sorry for falling asleep during tutoring,” you smiled softly, your voice gentle so to match the reverence of the soft morning glow filtering in around you through the opaque curtains. “I always did find biology boring.”

Though his eyes stayed unwavering on you, his mouth fell open and shut like a fish out of water, seemingly too stunned to speak.

“Thank you for letting me stay over, but you didn’t have to,” you spoke again when it was apparent he wasn’t going to respond, a rosy blush dusting your cheeks. “You could’ve taken the bed.”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Jungkook‘s voice sounded a gentle rumble after a moment of silence, and if you didn’t know any better the expression in his eyes would lead you to believe he loved seeing your sleeping form in his bed, almost as much as you loved seeing his.

It was a dangerous game, choosing what to let yourself believe as fact or wishful thinking.

Eventually your eyes left his before another staring contest could ensue in favor of glancing past him to the empty side of the room. “Did your roommate already come and go?”

“He didn’t come home,” Jungkook answered, his gaze never leaving your face as he propped himself up on his elbow. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes when you looked back to him. “He doesn’t usually sleep here. Like I said, you just had bad luck before.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that as your heart warmed at his last words. Bad luck that you’d gotten interrupted before but good luck that you didn’t this time; could this mean that he liked spending uninterrupted time with you? That he no longer silently looked for excuses to leave your presence?

“You can go back to sleep in your bed if you want,” your expression turned sheepish as you lifted yourself to your feet. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable on the floor.”

Jungkook followed your action with his eyes before sitting up as well and crossing his legs beneath his blanket on the floor. He looked so impossibly cute in the morning: hair ruffled and messy, eyes half lidded and groggy. You tried to stop your gaze from lingering on the way his plain white shirt hung loosely from his broad chest and shoulders, and you had to physically look away to keep from staring at his collarbone peeking from beneath the hem of the fabric. The last thing you needed was to get turned on this morning.

The silence that hung in the air was a comfortable one, though it spoke volumes for Jungkook’s intentions. He apparently wasn’t planning on getting back in bed.

“Do you wanna maybe...” you swallowed down the nerves you were now getting accustomed to upon being around him, “go get some breakfast?”

•••

Jungkook didn’t know what was happening to him.

He didn’t know who he was becoming. Because this person? This person who let Y/N spend the night, who let her sleep in his bed and got breakfast with her the next day like some sort of morning-after routine? This wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.

And yet he found himself doing it anyway.

He’d given his body with a mind of its own free reign at this point, feeling merely like a passenger as he watched these things that he never thought possible unfold before his very eyes. Waking up to the sight of Y/N peering back at him with soft eyes and a gentle smile was something that only happened in his dreams. He’d spent every waking moment since he met the wild senior telling himself that she wasn’t capable of that. That she was bad news and had no interest in anything from him other than a quick fuck. He wanted no part in that—at least that’s what he told himself. Though if that was the case, then how did he make it this far?

However, this was entirely different. This was uncharted territory that he never thought he’d get to explore, and it left him unknowing of how to feel. Had Y/N ever had a relationship quite as genuine, as domestic as this in the midst of all her one night stands? Deep down, he selfishly hoped the answer was no. He allowed himself to hope that he was special, if just this once.

They found their way to a nearby cafe on campus, the blast of warm air upon entering after enduring the crisp morning chill of winter melting his insides to goo. Though upon glancing at the girl beside him, he realized that his gooey insides had nothing to do with the sudden temperature change.

Jungkook followed her lead over to a table in the corner that was partially hidden from view of the rest of the cafe. He didn’t know if she’d done this on purpose for his preference of isolation or not, but he was appreciative nonetheless.

“Have you ever been here?” Y/N asked him, and the way her cheeks and nose were a soft red from the cold made Jungkook’s gaze dance with captivation.

“No,” he answered after a moment, the two of them taking their seats across from one another at the quaint, round table for two. “I uh, haven’t explored much of campus this semester other than my dorm and the academic buildings.”

He tossed in an awkward chuckle that he hoped countered how lame he knew he sounded. Why would somebody as exciting and adventurous as Y/N want anything to do with a recluse like himself?

Though if she felt one way or another about his statement, she certainly didn’t show it. “This place has the best coffee—if you like coffee, of course. But if you don’t they have other drinks as well. There’s tea if you’re more of a tea person... or hot chocolate. I’m sure they have milk or juice too, and just water.” Her eyes were fixated on the menu in front of her, and so he took the opportunity to admire her downcast features. She was rambling, and he could tell from his own personal experience with the emotion that she was nervous. And though he couldn’t imagine why she would feel such a way around him, it was endearing to see nonetheless.

He was following the graceful lines and curvatures of her face when her eyes suddenly found his again. He quickly snapped them down to look at his own menu. God, even with the winter chill in his bones he was still burning from her presence. Did they sell frozen beverages here?

After the server walked by to take their order (he thankfully was able to order something chilled to cool his insides), Jungkook was surprised at the ease in which their conversation flowed. They weren’t chatting nonstop by any means, but it seemed that studying together had made him a bit more comfortable—something that he wasn’t even aware of until this very moment.

Y/N had always been friendly, but instead of actively letting the topic fall flat like he normally would in favor of checking nearby exits for the perfect escape route, he found himself wanting to match her quips, wanting to hold her attention and keep her interest. And though she still did most of the talking, he wasn’t desperately wanting to return to the isolation of his room to shut himself off from the world like he usually did. He was okay here at their quaint table in the back of the cafe obscured behind some potted plants and with her staring back at him like there wasn’t a single person in the world she’d rather be with in this moment.

“So is computer science turning out to be all you’d hoped for?” There was a lilt of amusement to her tone as she emptied a packet of sugar into her coffee, and Jungkook knew this was because he had told her of his true feelings about the major.

He took a bite of his breakfast, the fork sitting between his lips for a moment in thought before he nodded pensively. “I like the subject. Computers have always interested me. I wouldn’t be majoring in it if I didn’t.”

Y/N nodded at his answer, though it seemed as if she was eluding to more. “And art?”

He looked over at her quizzically. “What about it?”

She shrugged with a small grin on her agonizingly perfect lips. “Are you taking it as an easy elective, or do you have an interest there?”

Jungkook gulped. He never opened up to people about his art. Not even his parents knew; it was just something he didn’t do. “I... I’ve always actually, um, b-been sort of into drawing.”

Well, until now, apparently.

He had no idea what possessed him to actually admit that to her, the first person he’s ever admitted it to besides himself, though the elation that lit up her face at his response was all worth it.

“Is that what your sketch pad is for?” She referenced the booklet that had always been crammed safely between the monstrous textbooks on his desk. He kept it hidden and out of view—or so he thought.

He cleared his throat after a bite of food to keep from choking. Did she really pay that much attention to the details of his room? “I uh—yeah. It–it’s just a way to pass the time.”

“But you take drawing 101 as an elective?”

He didn’t know what prompted him to open his mouth, albeit a bit sheepishly. “A-actually, I uh, I tested out of 101 after meeting with the professor. I take drawing 201.” Certainly his cheeks were the color of beets right now.

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, but before he could fret over the sheer surprise on her expression, she was speaking again. “Could I see them sometime?”

Now he actually did choke. A cough sputtered from his lips, the expression of concern that was adorning Y/N’s features making the embarrassment even harder to swallow along with his bite of food.

“Are you alright?” She leaned forward with wide eyes and brows knit into a frown.

“Y-yeah, yeah, I’m–“ Jungkook cleared his throat a couple more times to make sure he could breathe properly. “I’m okay. I don’t actually,” he paused, taking a moment to gather himself. “I’ve never actually... let anyone see my sketches before.”

“Oh,” she raised her brows before sitting back. “That’s okay then. I underst–“

“B-but, u-uh, maybe one day,” Jungkook gulped down the aftertaste of word vomit that had just spewed from his lips, his pulse increasing rapidly.

Y/N nodded with a smile then, a beautiful smile that he would never get tired of seeing, and while he was lost in the sight–

“You know...” she peered over beneath her lashes, and the beautiful smile morphed into a small smirk tugging at her lips. “This could technically be considered our second date.”

And it was suddenly that the wind had been knocked out of him. “D-date?”

“If you want,” Y/N shrugged as if the offer was no big deal. “I mean, you did kinda do this whole thing backwards. The least you could do is buy me a meal before getting me in your bed.”

His mouth ran dry at that, parched like a man left in the sweltering sun to match the heat that rose to his bright red face. And though it was obvious she was joking—the teasing grin of amusement on her lips were a dead giveaway—he couldn’t help but focus on the nature of her words in a very serious manner.

Y/N had never dropped a sexual innuendo to him before—not unless he had just been too naive to catch on at first. Regardless, the dirty scenario that her joking words implied was definitely not lost on him now, and it had his heart hammering in his chest.

She had to stop doing this to him. She had to have mercy on his poor soul, because he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. She had the ability to turn his world completely upside down in a matter of mere syllables, and the way those syllables were formed on the tip of her tongue and incredibly soft lips, the lips that he had felt with his own and knew how they tasted and–

His eyes widened. There was no way this was happening again.

The blood went down below in a rush, seeming to happen in slow motion and all at once, and before he knew it Jungkook had popped yet another boner over the thought of Y/N’s lips.

He couldn’t stop the blood draining from his face—probably because it all went to his dick. Was this really the type of person he was now? Someone who was too horny to even control their sexual urges? He didn’t know what had come over him these past couple of weeks, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. All she had to do was smirk at him and suddenly he was some kind of crazy sex addict!

He quickly shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and placing a napkin in his lap to hide his pants. The absolute mortification had to be written across his face; he knew it had to be, because Y/N in all of her painfully adorable obliviousness had misunderstood his sudden turn in behavior.

“I’m kidding! I’m paying of course.”

His head snapped up in shock at that; after the drastic turn of events, her previous words had momentarily slipped his mind until her sudden offer. Did she really want to pay for his meal?

“What? It’s a date,” she grinned.

And despite the circumstances, he couldn’t help but mirror her expression; it came surprisingly natural for him, in fact.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll pay,” he spoke without thinking. Fortunately his boner had started to settle thanks to the topic change, and this was something that he really wanted to do; his mother, as overprotective as she was, was very conservative and always taught him that chivalry should be kept alive.

“No, I’m the one who wanted to take you out.” And though she shook her head with a mischievous smile, her voice still held a tone of resolution to it that told him it wasn’t up for discussion. There was no arguing when the server came by and she handed over her card without even looking at the bill.

And despite having lost this temporary battle, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel the familiar rush of fuzzy warmth spread from his heart throughout the rest of his body like a lovesick poison. Here they were, on a domestic-style breakfast date at the local cafe arguing over normal couple things such as who got to pay the bill. It might’ve been small, something that seemed minuscule in the grand scheme of things, but it meant so much more to Jungkook.

Because it showed the path that they were on. And if things continued progressing the way they were, the wall of ice around Jungkook’s heart just might begin to melt.

•••

Despite the brisk winter air assaulting their senses upon exiting the warm cafe, the two of them were nothing but smiles. Well, he should say that Y/N was—the beam that lit up her face rivaled only the sun, whereas the corners of Jungkook’s lips simply turned up into a small grin.

He breathed into his hands before rubbing them together in hopes that the friction would heat them up and tried to calm the nerves dancing in his stomach. Even after spending the whole morning with her, the butterflies never stilled. It was a wonder what it felt like to have settled insides anymore.

“Jesus, why is it so freezing!” Y/N let out an adorable yelp that caused Jungkook’s smile to grow, and before he knew what she was doing–

“Are your hands cold?” She blurted the question before suddenly grabbing his hands in hers.

He stumbled to a stop, his blood running so cold that his body went numb until the sensation was burning him alive like Icy Hot in his veins. Of course he had felt her skin since their hands had last touched; he made out with her twice, for crying out loud. But that still didn’t stop the visceral, kismet energy that sparked between them like a lightning strike every time and shook both of them to the core.

Y/N looked down at their hands as if trying to make sense of the sensation, fingers barely brushing at this point, before looking back up at him. Her eyes searched his face, for what he wasn’t sure, and it was after a newfound determination settled over her features that he felt her palm against his in full force, fingers perfectly intertwined, holding his hand.

And Jungkook thought he was going to have a heart attack right there on the sidewalk.

He couldn’t believe it was happening. It was actually happening; he was actually holding her hand after all this time spent purposely trying to avoid the interaction. Though now in this moment, he suddenly couldn’t remember why he’d been trying to fight it.

It felt so good to hold her hand, so right—like their fingers and knuckles and palms were meant to cradle each other’s and no one else’s. He didn’t know that holding hands could feel like this—he’d only done so with his parents as a kid and childhood friends—but he quickly realized he was becoming addicted to the warm heart of his she was slowly starting to thaw.

Which is why after a few more moments spent in a stuttering, flustered mess, he finally pulled himself together long enough to walk hand in hand with her to the edge of the road.

“This is where my ride is picking me up,” Y/N exhaled once they slowed to a stop, though her hand never left his.

Jungkook hated the way his pulse sped up as he turned to face her with a nod. His dorm was just right across the street after all, and he had some studying of his own to catch up on. He knew he needed to get home.

So why did his feet stay planted in place, unwilling to let her go?

“Thank you for um—for breakfast.” The words stumbled from his mouth in an awkward, sheepish manner, though when he glanced up from his lowered gaze he couldn’t take his eyes off her smile.

“Thank you,” Y/N breathed, her gaze sparkling and intense and unwavering on his, “for letting me stay the night and for—for everything. I had a really good time Jungkook.”

He gulped at the unspoken tension that crackled between them; he could tell he was waiting for something that suspended in the air between them, but he couldn’t be sure of what. He’d never felt this feeling in his entire life: the feeling of desperately wanting to cling onto a moment that he knew should surely end. In any normal situation he would be spinning on his heel right now and dashing away in an effort to make a quick escape and ease his erratically pounding heart. And yet...

The sound of a booming stereo shattered the moment between them. A familiar car pulled up beside them—the same car that Y/N had used to drive them to their first date at the bowling alley, he realized—and through the open windows Jungkook could just make out the face of the first friend of hers he’d ever met.

“Hey Jungkook,” Taehyung leaned over the passenger’s seat to grin up at him in a friendly greeting, and Jungkook pressed his lips together in what he hoped looked like a makeshift smile in return. He didn’t know why there was disappointment inside his deflating gut; there was nothing left to be said between he and Y/N, right? It was time for them to part ways.

Y/N turned to look at him one last time. “I’ll see you later, okay?” She spoke almost as if she wanted to be sure of it herself as well, and thanks to a final squeeze of his hand from hers Jungkook was left a pile of putty on the ground as she got into the car and rode away.

And while he always preferred being alone, he found himself missing her presence already the second she left his side.

He walked with heavy feet back to his dormitory, desperately trying and failing to combat the giddy emotions from his mind that came along with the memories of this past night and morning. His futile efforts would’ve gone on a lot longer too had it not been for a familiar face suddenly stopping him as soon as he entered his room.

“Hey man,” Trip greeted casually, his coat and shoes still on and book bag slung over his shoulder like he’d just gotten back from class, though immediately Jungkook could sense something was off by his tone of voice.

“Hey...” Jungkook trailed off warily.

He waited a few moments before his roommate finally shook his head. “Look, I know you get pissed whenever I say something about it, but I saw you with Y/N.” He paused before letting out a sigh. “She really is bad news.”

It was the defeat, the dejection in his tone that caused Jungkook’s throat to tighten and stomach to drop in dread. Trip had just seen the two of them together on his way inside the building, and Jungkook could tell he was being genuine.

“I wouldn’t be saying this if I couldn’t tell you really like her,” his roommate continued. “She’ll just hump and dump you, dude.”

Jungkook was shaking his head before he even realized he was doing so; he so desperately wanted to believe he was wrong. “You don’t know anything about Y/N other than the rumors you’re told.” His voice was confident, spoken with conviction, though it was the sigh that fell from Trip’s lips that had Jungkook’s swirling with doubt.

“Back in August at the very beginning of the semester, I went to a party. I wanted to get to know people; classes hadn’t even started yet.”

Jungkook already didn’t like the thought of where this story was headed; he balled his hands into fists to keep his fingers from trembling as Trip continued.

“Y/N was there, and she was drunk out of her mind. Pretty sure she doesn’t even remember this, but uh, I was wasted too, and we hooked up. It was just a quickie in the bathroom; nothing special, but you know, it was her.” The expression on his face was wistful, as if he had been smitten with her that night, and Jungkook felt as if his entire world was crashing down around him.

He stumbled back a step, nauseous. Vomit threatened to crawl its way up his throat, though he somehow kept it down.

“I went to get her number afterwards and she was gone before I could even button my pants.” It was hard to mistake the sadness, the defeat in his tone. “When I saw her later on campus, she didn’t even remember me. I’d say it was just a one time thing except for the fact that she does this to guys all the time. When I started asking around about her, everyone had a similar story. Said she’d even do it sober, too. So really, don’t waste your time dude. It’s not worth it.”

Jungkook was deathly quiet. It was hard to differentiate the many emotions and tumultuous thoughts crashing down around him like an endless tsunami, so much so that he felt numb from the inside out. He simply stood in place, frozen like a statue under the assault of Trip’s confession, before spinning around on his heel and hurrying out the door.

His roommate called after him, though there was no hearing anything around him over the pounding heartbeat raging in Jungkook’s ears. He kept running, and running, and running, until he finally slowed to a stop once fresh winter air filled his lungs just outside the dormitory building.

He was going to be sick.

His palms found his knees as he bent over, ready to spew the contents of his breakfast that Y/N bought for him all over the concrete ground. His chest heaved; the nausea was there, festering in the bottom of his stomach and lodged in the back of his throat, though no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it past the giant lump obscuring its path. Nothing would come up.

And it was then, right in the middle of this chaotic whirlwind of pain, hurt, sadness, anger, confusion, regret—just to name a few—that Jungkook felt a vibration in his pocket.

After a few more moments of heavy breathing, Jungkook’s shaking fingers fumbled to pull out his phone. And as if things couldn’t get any worse than they already were, the universe decided to mock him even further.

hey, thanks again for our date this morning! i had a lot of fun :) when do you want to get together for our next tutoring sesh?

Jungkook gulped before turning off his phone completely.

•••

It had been two weeks since you heard from Jungkook.

You wouldn’t even bat an eye at his lack of communication had this been the beginning stages of your relationship; you were very much accustomed to going out and seeking Jungkook on your own. But ever since things had started to progress for the two of you, you kept in contact through text to plan a time and date to meet up.

Only he hadn’t replied to a single one of your messages.

After not hearing back from him the first time, you sent another; maybe he was just busy catching up on his own studies, or needed some time to himself. You couldn’t fault him for that. But when that one had gone unanswered too, you started to worry. Had something happened to him?

You couldn’t find him leaving his late night art class like you usually did. He wasn’t taking his usual route to and from his classes. You even risked venturing into the library again, if only to catch a glimpse of the beautiful boy at a table in the corner or behind a computer screen, but with no such luck. All your knocks on his dorm door had gone unanswered. You even attempted to call him once or twice, but it quickly went to voicemail. You were beginning to get seriously worried that something was wrong.

Immediately your mind went to the worst. What if he had gotten hurt? What if he was stuck somewhere or dead in a ditch? And that’s what drove you to do something you hadn’t ever needed to do before: you sat outside the door of his dorm room, ass on the floor and back against the wall the entire day.

The waiting game was excruciating; you couldn’t untangle the knots from your stomach even if you tried. Your palms sweltered with a nervous heat as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap, swallowing all of your pride that made you feel like a desperate fool whenever another student would walk down the hall and give you a strange look. You could endure the embarrassment, the vulnerability that putting yourself out there took as long as it meant you got to see Jungkook. You needed to know that he was okay.

There was also the self-doubt creeping at the edges of your mind, the same dejection you were all too familiar with that told you Jungkook didn’t want to see you. That he was actively avoiding you, that you had built up every little interaction between the two of you inside your mind to make it bigger than it really was, and he actually just hated you—it ate away at you from the inside out.

But then you were remembering the way he looked at you when he awoke that fateful morning, how he let you sleep in his bed and offered to pay the bill and held your hand on the way back from your second date. There was no way you could’ve been imagining the feelings the two of you shared, could you? Regardless, you weren’t going to let Jungkook go. Not after everything you’d been through.

It was after 9:00 at night before there was movement in front of his door. You’d been staring down at your phone, tapping away at a mindless game to kill time when you heard the most glorious sound you’d ever heard in your entire life.

“Y/N?”

The speed in which your head snapped up at the sound could give you whiplash, but you didn’t even care at this point. Because Jungkook was here, standing in front of you in the flesh, and your body reacted without thinking as you jumped up from your seat on the floor and threw your arms around him in a giant hug.

“Jungkook, you’re okay!” You gushed in relief, fists gripping onto the material of his coat on his back if only to keep him from disappearing on the spot and face burying into the crook of his neck. You’d only hugged him one other time outside the art building and though the occurrence seemed like ages ago, a distant memory after all the progress you’d made, you still remembered the feelings, the overwhelming emotions coursing through you from the embrace. And god, your memory hadn’t done it justice.

The same kismet passion crashed around you like a raging storm full of thunder and lightning when the two of you collided, though right there with it at the forefront of your brain was the elation, the relief and happiness and overwhelming joy that you felt seeing him again. To hold him in your arms if only to convince yourself this was real, that he was okay, was really all you needed after weeks of being left in the dark.

Though beneath your own swirling emotions clouding your senses, you could immediately tell that something was wrong. He was stiff, rigid beneath you, though instead of this feeling like the same shell-shocked surprise he usually had, you could sense he was off. He felt distant, cold, like the giant wall of ice that was beginning to melt around his heart had frozen solid again and increased in height three times over.

Though despite your intuition alerting you of these observations, you still eventually felt his arms slowly wrap around you to reciprocate the hug as if he was reluctant to do so but had finally stopped fighting himself. And the feeling of his hold that kept you lodged against his chest was the best thing you ever could’ve felt.

You gave an extra squeeze of your arms around him to let him know that you appreciated the reciprocation before pulling away to look up at him. You needed to see his face to know if he was truly okay. You needed to see his eyes.

And there staring back at you was everything you feared and more: pain, regret, hurt. Your heart broke at the sight, and a visible frown marred your features as concern filled every fiber of your being.

“What’s wrong?”

Anguish etched across his expression at your words. You grabbed his hand, letting the familiar spark of electricity that relentlessly took your breath away travel through your veins, if only to let him know that it was alright.

“Come on, let’s get into your room.” He felt more comfortable in private places; you knew that much from experience. “We can talk there.”

Jungkook was hesitant at that, and for a moment you were worried he was going to say no. But then a soft sigh fell from his lips and he eventually nodded his head, unlocking the door with trembling hands that didn’t go unnoticed by you and allowing the two of you to enter.

You were relieved to see that his roommate wasn’t in tonight, though you couldn’t say you were too surprised; you’d been fortunate enough to not have him there for most of your recent study sessions.

You began to speak as soon as the door shut behind him. “Are you okay? Did something happen? I’ve been texting you, calling you; I get it if you need your space, but I– I was worried.”

You admitted the last part sheepishly, feeling silly for overreacting when you could clearly see now that he was in good health. But the pain on his features, the way his eyes felt miles away from you—you knew something was bothering him.

Maybe he did just need his space—he was a loner, after all—in which case you felt self-consciously overly clingy and needy for going to the measures that you did to contact him. That was so out of character for you it wasn’t even funny; you never went out of your way to contact anyone besides your friends, and definitely not more than once. But you thought things for the two of you were finally starting to change for the better... it may have been selfish, but you thought you at least deserved a simple text explaining he wanted to be left alone, no? You would have understood.

Anxiety pricked at the base of your palms when he still hadn’t answered you. “Jungkook,” you started, taking a small step closer so not to scare him off. It felt as if you’d reverted back to how things used to be in the beginning. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

You didn’t know if it was your constant questions, his internal thoughts, or the small waver in your tone as you pleaded with him to just talk to you, but it was then that you saw his expression soften—a slight crack in his armor to reveal the gentle boy you knew was inside—and your chest flooded with hope.

“I–“ he started before stopping again, seeming to search for the right words. “I don’t– I c-can’t see you right now.”

Dread instantly swarmed in your stomach and sent it plummeting to the floor. “Why? Did something happen? Jungkook, if you don’t want to tutor me anymore that’s okay–“

“This isn’t about the tutoring,” he instantly corrected you with slightly grit teeth and a heavy sigh, almost as if he was trying to hold back. He was always trying to hold back. You wanted everything, the good and the bad and all of the in between. You just wanted him.

“Then what is it about?” You asked in a stronger tone, desperate for him to stop making you play this guessing game that was driving you insane. “Just tell me, Jungkook!”

“I know about you and Trip!” He suddenly blurted out, his words suspended in the air for a few silent moments while your mind scrambled to make sense of them. “He told me everything. He’s my– he’s my roommate, Y/N. I have to see him every day. I have to see him and all I can think about is you with him and I–“

“Wait, Jungkook, slow down,” you held your hands up to stop his rambling, your eyes closing in confusion with a shake of your head as you gathered your thoughts. “What are you talking about?”

“You–“ Jungkook paused, staring at you for a moment with his excruciatingly beautiful eyes before his shoulders deflated with a sigh. “Trip said that the two of you hooked up. At the beginning of the semester—he told me about it after he saw us out on our... you know...” And as if the wondrous boy couldn’t be any more of an enigma to you, he actually trailed off with a shy blush, unable to even mumble the words date into existence while he was here upset with you.

It broke you to see him so hurt like this, especially when you were the cause. And yet, despite the circumstances you couldn’t help the small flutter of your heart at the fact that he cared. He cared enough to get upset with you, he cared enough to voice his feelings aloud. And if anything, that did nothing but solidify what you knew the two of you had. You hadn’t been imagining things. This was real.

And you’d be damned if you ever let something as insignificant as your drunken past stand in the way of that.

“Jungkook,” you took a step forward, arms raised as if to touch him though not actually doing so. “I promise you, I have no recollection of that whatsoever. I would never purposefully sleep with your roommate, I... I–“

How did you even begin to explain to this boy that sex meant nothing to you? That you used to fuck random people all the time and it was no big deal? Surely that wouldn’t help in this situation.

The worst part was, you couldn’t even deny his words. Because you probably did fuck Trip at some point or another. Not to your knowledge, of course, though your memory was certainly nothing to use as a reliable source. You had no way of knowing if his roommate was lying or not.

Defeat marred Jungkook’s features in front of you, and all you could do was stand there and watch. This was the first time you’ve been truly disappointed in your promiscuous lifestyle.

“I... I know you don’t remember,” Jungkook finally spoke, and you were thankful that he decided to fill the silence at all. “Trip told me that too.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you frowned, eyes lowering with a heavy chest. “I’m sorry that it had to be him. But you have to believe me when I say that I feel nothing, absolutely nothing for him. I don’t– I don’t have feelings for people. Feelings are not something that I do.” You were rambling now, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop the word vomit from tumbling past your lips until it was too late. “I’ve never felt anything for anyone until I met you!”

Jungkook froze at that. His doe eyes turned the size of saucers, and you were sure the total state of shock on his features was a reflection of the emotions now coursing through your body.

You’d never admitted out loud that you actually had feelings for Jungkook—not to him, at least. Sure you made it pretty fucking obvious, what with chasing him around campus since the second you met, but you had no clue what Jungkook was ever thinking; for all you knew he could’ve thought you’d been just trying to get in his pants this whole time.

So maybe this was a good thing. Maybe this was what Jungkook needed to hear. If you had to let down your walls down and be vulnerable for the first time in your life to fight for him, then you were going to have to break through the socially constructed cage of fear that was holding you back and do just that.

“How...” Jungkook’s voice was hoarse, strained when he finally spoke up, and he stopped to clear his throat. His knuckles that gripped the edge of his desk were white. “Why?”

His question caught you off guard. “Why do I have feelings for you?”

“N-no,” Jungkook spluttered at your forward statement, coughing slightly to cover the hitch you detected in his tone before clearing his throat once more. “I–I just...” he chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, seeming to go through world war III in his mind before: “Why don’t you do feelings?”

It was the question that would open the can of worms you’d been trying so desperately to keep sealed shut for the past three years. From the looks of it, if his nervous fidgeting was any giveaway, Jungkook knew this was a touchy subject for you as well. And yet he still asked it anyway, which was more progress than you could say about any conversation the two of you have ever had in the past.

You took a seat on the edge of his bed, the long sigh that left your lips followed only by the sharp inhale that filled your lungs as much as they would allow. Your attempt to quell the nerves that were rocking within your stomach was futile. Any time you thought about your past you were swarmed with the same anxiety you experienced during it, which was usually why you pushed the memories to the depths of your brain and kept them buried beneath drugs and sex and alcohol.

But one look at the gentle, profound, big brown eyes staring back at you with so much understanding, so much support despite the chaotic circumstances, and you knew you could trust him.

He was the one you wanted to open yourself up to.

“My... parents,” you started, and even just mentioning them had your throat constricting. You shuddered out a shaky exhale, and it was then that you felt the mattress beside you dip under the weight of another body.

Jungkook was sitting next to you, no parts of you touching but just close enough so that you knew he was there. Whether he did it for your benefit or not, you’d never know, but his presence brought you comfort.

“We... didn’t have a good relationship,” you frowned, tone hesitant as you tried to pick and choose the right words to describe this situation for the first time in your life. “I don’t speak to them anymore.”

Jungkook remained silent at your side, though you could tell by the twitching of his lips you saw as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye that he had questions unwilling to be voiced aloud.

You heaved a heavy sigh as you worked up the courage to continue. “T-they were abusive. Not physically—well, a little physically, but uh, m-mostly mentally, emotionally.” You fought through the painful memories to find an instance that described them well. “They left me abandoned in a parking lot when I was eight. After everything went down with the cops, child protective services, you know—they’d gotten out of it with a bullshit excuse of course—they made me feel as if it was my fault. As if I was such a burden of a child, so unlovable and disastrous that they had no other choice but to leave me there.”

The words left a bitter taste in your mouth as a grimace stayed fixed on your lips, eyes glued to the bottom bookshelf that was sitting across the room but your mind far, far away from here. This was just one of the many ways your parents neglected you as a child, though this one always stood out in your mind. Because even though they were beyond shitty to you, they were all you had. This was the first time you were ever truly afraid that you had driven them away forever.

“I blamed myself for the longest time,” you continued, gulping down the pain and unable to meet Jungkook’s eye. You didn’t want to see his expression right now. “I blamed myself when I found my mom passed out on pills or my dad drunk in a ditch, as if they needed to do these things to cope with me. And when I was sixteen, they abandoned me for good—up and left one day when I was at school. I came home to find the place empty; what little we had was gone and a for sale sign was in the front yard.”

It was then that you felt a spark of electricity jolt up your arm like a lightning strike, and when you looked down you saw that Jungkook’s hand was sitting on yours.

Could he really be willingly touching you, initiating physical contact with you for the first time since you met?

Your head snapped up to look at him for the first time since you’d started speaking, and there in the very eyes staring back at you held enough warmth, enough tenderness and compassion and love to rival every single ounce of anxiety and negative emotion that your body ever held.

It felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Finally you were voicing your troubles aloud after years of bottling them inside, and finally you had someone to share them with, someone who held your hand and let you know that they weren’t going anywhere despite the fear that accompanied this pain for your entire life—fear that you would be rejected, abandoned, fear that you could never be loved or wanted after dumping such a heavy load of emotional baggage onto someone else.

Yet here he was, sitting by your side and holding your hand all the same.

It was the reason why you had so many random hookups, why you never slept with the same person twice and would ghost each of them before they ever had a chance to try to get close to you; you were trying to temporarily fill the void of absent love from your parents without getting attached so that you wouldn’t get hurt. And though the act was unconscious—you’d never actually taken the time to understand your behavior until the truth was staring you straight in the face now that you were willingly thinking about your past—you realized it was selfish. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it—not when it brought you to this breathtaking boy.

“I–I’m sorry,” Jungkook finally spoke, his voice cracking at the seams through his soft and reverent tone. “Did you... did you find them?”

You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from his hand on yours. “I don’t even know if I would’ve wanted to, to be honest,” you admitted with a frown. “They were so fucked up, Jungkook. I think being out of that toxic household was the best thing for me.”

“But you were a child; did you stay with a relative or someone?”

“I didn’t have anyone,” you spoke with conviction, hating how weak your past made you seem. That was why you pushed it to the back of your mind; you wanted to feel strong. “And there was no way I was going to risk being put in foster care or some shit like that.”

“W-what about your grandmother?” Jungkook questioned hesitantly, seeming to be worried of coming off too pushy or prodding, though that couldn’t be further from the truth. “The one who left you the money?”

“I didn’t even know she was still alive,” you shook your head with a sigh, lifting the fingers of your other hand to play with his in your palm. Your stomach fluttered and heart sung with each grazing touch. “I hadn’t seen her since I was little. My parents didn’t seem to care about who I was running around with so long as it got me off their hands, but when it came to our other family, they kept us cut off. I’m pretty sure it’s because they’d already severed whatever ties they had with their own family as well. My parents were a mess; nobody wanted to deal with them.”

Jungkook was quiet, solemn for a moment until: “So you... lived on your own?”

You nodded, silent at first before speaking along with the gesture. “More or less, yeah. I was on the streets a lot. Got a tent so I could sleep where I wanted.”

You felt Jungkook stiffen beneath your touch, seemingly mortified at that.

A gentle chuckle fell from your lips. “I didn’t mind that part too much; I was just happy to be away from them, and honestly? I liked being able to live life by my own terms on a whim. It felt like I could be truly free of them.”

There was a thinly veiled shudder that you felt rake its way through the freshman’s body. “I can’t imagine what that would feel like. My home life was so different.”

You turned to him then, knees nearly touching but not quite as you offered up a friendly smile. “What were your parents like?”

He froze up then—body and limbs turning to stone under the weighted pressure of the question, and for a moment you were worried you’d overstepped. Just because you told him about your past didn’t mean he was in any way obligated to tell you about his.

“S-sorry, I shouldn’t’ve–“

“N-no, it’s okay,” he was quick to reassure you with a wavering tone, though rather than uncertainty it seemed as if nerves were the cause. “If your parents were one extreme, then mine were on the complete opposite side of the spectrum,” he spoke after a deep breath and a nibble on his lower lip. “They were strict and put a lot of pressure on me from the time I was little—pressure to do well in school, pressure to make the family proud. They wouldn’t let me do anything if they thought it would distract me from my studies.“

You nodded thoughtfully. “I can see that—just from what you’ve mentioned briefly about your major and everything,” you quickly added. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you were assuming anything about his past—not when he was finally choosing to break down his walls bit by bit and slowly let you in. It was as if you could see the ice around his heart start to melt to the ground, like ice cream in the middle of the summer, and he was terrified. It was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. Honored didn’t even begin to describe how you felt.

He chewed on his bottom lip before deciding to speak again. “I have an older brother; Junghyun is his name. He’s in the army right now, but when we were younger he was the apple of my parents’ eye. He could do no wrong—perfect student, star athlete, everyone loved him.” He sat in silence for a moment, as if he was reliving the memories and pondering his thoughts. “Growing up, it felt like I was living in his shadow. Nothing I did was ever good enough—never as good as him, at least. I always had something to prove, and it always seemed like I was failing in their eyes.”

The frown adorning your features grew at this. It was no wonder Jungkook seemed so shy and always questioned himself, continuously asking why me? when you used to hint at your feelings towards him. His parents made him feel insecure, gave him an inferiority complex like he was never good enough in the face of others.

It broke your heart to know that this was how he saw himself when to you he was the most magnificent human being you’d ever met.

“Jungkook,” you grasped his hand a little tighter, gave it a squeeze that matched the squeeze of your heart at the action. “You have to know that’s not true.”

“I...” Jungkook trailed off, the words seeming to get caught in his throat as he gazed at you. Neither of you seemed to mind the stretch of silence that ensued as you stared into each other’s eyes. There were many unspoken words, so many emotions charged within the space between you that it was hard to breathe.

“They did it out of love,” he finally ripped his eyes away and lowered them to the floor, his words a mumble as if trying to convince himself of this as well. “I know this, of course; they’re hard on me because they just want what’s best for me and my future. But... it still affected me.” He glanced at you then, his cheeks suddenly turning a dusty rose. “Living such a sheltered life is part of the reason why I’d never... been with anyone before. Not even my... f-first kiss.”

You stared at him, floored. “Never?”

He just shook his head sheepishly, the spitting image of embarrassment as his face was now beet red.

You tried to keep your expression neutral so not to offend him; the last thing you wanted was to make him feel ashamed for his lack of experience. Yet you still couldn’t help but slightly widen your eyes. “Really? I mean– I wondered if that might be the case but I never would’ve thought I’d be right–“

His face blanched at your words, and you immediately regretted saying them. “That bad?” He eventually asked with a wince.

“No, god no are you kidding?” You chuckled in disbelief at the thought that he would ever doubt what was the best kiss of your life, though you forwent elaborating the meaning of your words in favor of continuing. “I’m just surprised, is all. You must’ve had girls lining up at your doorstep.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose, confusion etched onto his features. “Why would you think that?”

You gave him a look as if to say, really? And before you could control yourself your mouth kinda just—

“You’re beautiful.”

Jungkook looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

You wanted to take it back. The expression on his face made you feel as if you’d made a mistake, though as much as that tortured you, you knew you couldn’t. Because you meant it, had been thinking it since the very first moment you laid eyes on him, and god damn it, he deserved to hear it every second of every day.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–“

You didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. But the words got caught in your throat and strangled you speechless, because it was at that moment that a bright pink sprouted on the apples of Jungkook’s previously blanched cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears to match the shy smile that was spreading across his face, growing more and more until you saw the hint of teeth peaking behind his lips and his effort to hide the expression became futile.

Any time you were graced with his smile was a time you would not take for granted; the sight of it still stunned you to silence as you marveled at his beauty.

“I... I–I tend to keep to myself a lot,” Jungkook’s words started stumbling from his mouth before you had a chance to process everything that was happening, almost as if he was explaining himself, so you just sat there dazed in a trance while you watched. “I was the same way in high school. There wasn’t anyone I felt strongly enough to want to be with before–“

He stopped just as your heart rate spiked. You sat on the edge of your seat with bated breath, but Jungkook simply averted his gaze and nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Before what?” You tried to keep the desperation from your voice as you gently urged him to continue.

A gulp raked down Jungkook’s throat before he inhaled sharply and suddenly looked at you, the intense eye contact reminding you of the staring contest weeks ago and striking you to your core.

“Before you,” he finally finished.

And it was the last thing you heard before your lips were on his.

•••

Jungkook had never been so happy in his entire life.

His heart just felt so... full. He’d avoided Y/N after what Trip had told him because it hurt, hurt too much to imagine her with someone else but especially with the one person who was unavoidable, the one person he saw everyday and had no chance avoiding like he did the rest of the people on campus. At least with all of her other rumored fucks, he’d been able to distance himself. But with Trip, it made everything so... real. Jungkook now knew someone personally affected by Y/N’s actions; for some reason, that made things so much worse.

He knew he should’ve given her the benefit of the doubt. Jungkook used to jump to conclusions and make snap judgments about someone based on what others would say, but he’d gotten better about that with Y/N. It’s just that everything Trip said had brought back every insecurity and fear he’s ever had about Y/N—that he would let himself fall for her and ultimately end up just another name on the long list of men who had wished for something more. Every guy she’s been with had been smitten; what made him so different that she pursued him? Maybe she just liked the chase. He was just foolish if he believed that a few tutoring sessions made him more special than the men she partied with on a daily basis.

And so that’s why his defense mechanism had instinctively kicked in—to protect himself from getting hurt. But he knew it was too late. He cared too much at this point. The pain of ignoring her was almost as bad as the pain of Trip’s words, and that’s why he was like putty in her hands the second he saw her waiting on his doorstep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. But the thought of her with his roommate, with the only person he was physically forced to see until the end of the year, still hurt more than he was willing to admit. He just didn’t know what to do, so he did what he knew best; he fled.

But then Y/N confessed to having feelings for him—actual feelings that didn’t involve himself just being a quick fuck, he desperately hoped—and his entire world flipped upside down. Certainly he had heard her wrong, right? It couldn’t have been that he was wrong about her motives from the very start? Or was he right about her initial motives, and her feelings for him simply changed as time went on? Or was she just lying to placate his pain in order to get in the position they were in now, with her hand in his hair and his lips on hers?

But then she did the unimaginable to take him by surprise yet again: she opened up to him about her past. And if there was one thing he knew about Y/N, it was that she didn’t do that. He could tell that not even her closest friends had been let in by her, and so when she started telling him about her parents and the awful childhood she’d had, Jungkook knew she was telling the truth about everything.

And suddenly it all made sense. All the rumors he’s ever heard, drugs and alcohol and stories of Y/N jumping from guy to guy without so much as a second glance—her past explained all of it.

He recognized the behavior signs as soon as she opened up and let him in; she was pushing people away, same as he was, only she was going about it in a much different way, because she lacked the familial love that Jungkook had growing up from his parents and brother no matter how hard they were on him. Jungkook couldn’t believe what his ears were hearing when Y/N told him of her past; no child should ever have to deal with that much abuse or emotional trauma, much less from their parents, the two people who were supposed to teach and give a child endless amounts of love and support. Y/N missed out on both in her childhood. Which explained why she would spend nights with random men, to temporarily fill the void without getting attached so she wouldn’t get hurt. It explained why she didn’t want to get close to people.

What it didn’t explain was why she was here with him.

If she didn’t do feelings, as she so hastily told him amidst her passion-fueled confession, then why did she have feelings for him? What was so special about him that set him apart from the other men who vied for her attention?

He couldn’t begin to unravel the complexity and intricacies that were her mind, but even if he could, he didn’t know if it would even matter. Because against all odds, it was he who she was consistently pursuing, he who she had feelings for. And though he didn’t understand it, he was too far gone, too selfish to want to question it at the moment. Especially since Jungkook had admitted aloud the one thing he was most terrified and insecure about when it came to being with Y/N: he had no experience. While this girl had been with more people than he even knew, he had been with no people whatsoever. He admitted this to her, and yet she didn’t care; she wanted to be with him anyway.

And so that was what fueled him forward, caused him to abandon all reservation and lean into the kiss and do what he truly wanted, what just felt right when it came to being with Y/N.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and led with his heart.

•••

Somehow every second that you spent with Jungkook just got better and better.

Every kiss took your breath away, seemed infinitely better than the last; turns out your memory was worse than you thought, because when you thought your memory had done the sensation of his lips pressed against yours justice, you learned every time that it most certainly did not.

You could feel the tension and restraint that normally held Jungkook back physically melt until he was nothing but a puddle beneath your touch, the passion and love that was radiating from your being met with the mirroring emotions of his own until they fizzled and cracked between the two of you like a blazing fire and erupted your souls in an inferno that seemed to meld the two of you together as one.

There was something so much deeper happening beneath the surface while the two of you kissed; it was kismet, intangible, unstoppable. Which was why when you tugged on his hair as you had the very first time the two of you had ever made out and heard the very same moan that haunted your dreams ever since, there was no stopping you this time—no roommate to barge in, no signs of Jungkook making a run for the door. And it was when you felt the searing touch of Jungkook’s hand against your cheek, so gentle and soft and spreading like wildfire, you brought your leg over his as you had attempted to do previously in his desk chair and finally succeeded this time in settling atop his open lap.

The effect was instantaneous. Jungkook became a brick wall beneath you, having never been physically close to anyone in his life, though the audible moan that fell from your lips and onto his at the feeling of his body pressed against yours in ways that not even a hug could fulfill caused him to throw all caution to the wind.

He was putty, susceptible to all of your movements as you dug your fingers deeper into his scalp, his hands giving away just how flustered and overwhelmed he must’ve felt in this moment before they flew to settle on the fabric covering your hips.

It took everything in you not to devour him right then and there, but you somehow managed to break the kiss. Heavy breaths filled the confined space between you as both of your chests rose and fell with panting, physically and emotionally and mentally teetering on the edge. Though in reality, the two of you hadn’t gone far at all. Not by your usual standards, at least. But somehow, it felt like you’d gone farther than ever before.

“Is this okay?” Your voice was faint, a breathless murmur against his lips as you rested your forehead on his and gazed deeply into the eyes that seemed to consume your heart and soul in one glance.

He looked up at you as well, expression bewildered yet somehow blown out with lust in a way that shot straight to your core. For a moment you worried that this was too much for him. Hell, this was almost too much for you, and you’d straddled countless laps in your lifetime. The connection between the two of you was so strong that it was overwhelming, almost too overwhelming—which was why you were in need of proper breaks before your head exploded—and you were afraid that it would scare him off.

Though your heart leapt to heights unknown when he gently nodded his head. There was a soft smile that crept onto the corners of his lips, one that made your expression burst into elation, and he was eventually opening his mouth.

“Y-yes.”

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, and you moved your hands from his hair down the length of his neck until you were cradling his cheek, your thumb swiping over the supple skin of his breathtaking face. You could tell that he was getting in his own head the longer you remained apart, had learned enough about reading his facial expressions and body language by now to know that him biting his lower lip was never a good sign, which was why as soon as his consent was granted you leaned down to place a soft, reassuring kiss on the tip of his nose before giving into your desires and replacing his teeth with your own on his plump bottom lip like you’ve always wanted to.

Jungkook hissed with an inhale of surprise, his hands tightening and fingers digging into your waist, and your hips involuntarily rocked against his in reaction to the sensation as your tongue slipped past his parted lips and tasted the caverns of his mouth.

And god, you could get drunk off his taste.

He was sweeter, so much sweeter than you ever thought possible, and the sensation of his tongue pressed against your own was so addictive that you knew you would never need another illegal substance to get high again. Because this, this was much more dangerous than any drug you’ve ever had in your system.

His breath was already heavier than before in your mouth, if that was even possible, and the intoxicating heat caused your head to spin with a level of arousal you didn’t even know existed. His arousal was evident in his pants as well—you knew far too much about the male anatomy to ever misconstrue what that felt like—and the knowledge that you had actually given Jungkook an erection paired with the onslaught of bliss that was currently inflicted on your body was almost too much for your poor heart to handle. You couldn’t imagine what Jungkook must be feeling given that everything, not just the emotional nirvana that you were experiencing, was new to him. And despite the desire that you were feeling, the urge to take care of him and make him feel safe through all of this was much, much stronger.

You halted your movements before you got carried away in favor of gazing down at his big brown eyes that always made your heart clench. The way your breath mingled together was ecstasy.

“Let me know if you want to stop,” you spoke to him with as soothing of a tone as you could manage given the fact that your pussy was throbbing. You wanted him to trust you.

Despite the broken kiss, the heavy rise and falls of your chests prohibited the rest of your body from staying still, and so your hips ever-so-slightly rolled against his like a docked ship would float at port. It was more of an after-effect, really, though it was enough to leave your thoughts a jumbled mess. So many emotions clouded your senses and kept you from thinking straight, and so when he nodded again and showed no signs of stopping you, you led with your heart instead of your head and leaned forward until his back was propped against the headboard of his bed.

Your lips crashed together in the throes of unabashed passion, every feeling you’ve ever felt for one another cultivating to this catalyst of a moment in which there was no stopping, no coming back from. You didn’t know where your body stopped and his begun, but it didn’t matter either way because in this moment the only thing that you knew was Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. His chest against yours, his hands on your hips, his dick pressing to your core—the sensation was stronger and more vivid through your layers of clothes than anything you’ve ever felt bare. And unless you heard his words of objection that would tumble your movements to a halt, there was no stopping the acts of lust and love that coursed through your veins with the fury of a thousand storms. This was what it felt like to be truly alive.

Jungkook was a mess of pleasured whimpers beneath you; you could tell he was trying to contain them against your mouth, though you weren’t sure why. These were the most beautiful, euphonious sounds you’d ever heard, even while muffled, and you just couldn’t help yourself from trailing a path of searing kisses down the heavenly muscle found on the side of his neck—a perfect column to drag your lips across, you soon found, and it also meant freeing his glorious sounds.

It was pure music to your soul. With each rock of your hips another breathless moan left the back of his throat, each one curling around the shell of your ear and making a home in the depths of your core that only fueled your movements forward, too far gone and wrapped up in the moment to ever dream of stopping. And when you felt his hips slowly start to buck up into yours as well to match the pace of your thrusts, you surely thought you’d died and gone to heaven.

“Jungkook,” you murmured in a blissful daze, already missing the taste of his lips after having been away from them for what felt far too long. Your tone was desperate, needy, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what with the way his grip tightened on your hips when your lips found his again.

He groaned against them, the sound muffled to your ears though your tongue swallowed it whole and you cradled his face with more tenderness and affection than you ever knew you were capable of mustering in such a heated and lustful moment. God, you never knew it was possible to feel this... good.

The feeling of his hardened length digging into your center as you pressed as close as humanly possible and rocked your hips caused your brain to short circuit, though you were way past the point of computing the sheer impossibility of everything that was happening. You’re pretty sure you were dreaming and having an out of body experience right now. Was this really Jungkook, the boy who could barely even speak when you first met and wouldn’t look you in the eyes? And if so, how did you get so fucking lucky as to be so intimately close to him this way?

You didn’t know, and frankly you didn’t possess the mental capacity to focus on it while Jungkook’s hips continued rutting in time with yours and creating an atomic bomb of ecstasy every time your centers met. You lost all sense of sanity when his head leaned back against the headboard with furrowed brows of pleasure and an open-mouthed moan. The sight was singlehandedly the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

“Oh god...” Jungkook huffed out between panting breaths, and you were torn between wanting to study his expression and burn it into memory with a branding iron or cover every inch of exposed skin with your lips. His eyes opened to look up at you beneath hooded lids, and when another breathy whimper fell from his lips you couldn’t help but dive back in to taste it.

“Wait, ah, Y/N–“ his lips parted only for endless moans and incoherent sounds that sounded a lot like your name to flood the the caverns of your mouth like a waterfall of euphoria, gushing and gushing until it was overflowing and spilling over the top–

Your ears were ringing with sounds more divine than a choir of angels, but it was only when you felt the new sensation of something wet and warm against your center that you paused long enough to look down between you. Your forehead rested against his, panting chests brushing one another with every harsh inhale as you took in the sight something dark spreading over the crotch of his pants.

Your breath hitched in your throat before you could stop it. Was that what you thought it was?

You glanced back up to see Jungkook’s eyes fluttering beneath closed lids, the life seeming to slowly seep back into him with every passing second. There was sweat covering the edge of his hairline and dampening the roots of his hair, and god, he looked so breathtakingly beautiful that it hurt.

You were wrong before, when you said that that was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Because this—Jungkook beneath you with a dazed expression of sexual bliss after having just came in his pants because of you—this was by far the hottest thing of your entire life.

You smiled then; god he just looked so... so serene. You loved the thought that he felt so good, and you loved that you got to be the one to make him feel that way. Which was why you couldn’t help yourself when you leaned down to pepper gentle, soothing kisses to every inch of his adorable face. You’d wanted to be this close to him for so long, and it was finally happening. Happy didn’t even begin to describe how you felt; you were higher than cloud nine.

When Jungkook finally came to, you felt his expression physically shift beneath your lips—first came shock, then mortification, then regret.

“O-oh my god, I’m—I’m so sorry–“

And it was before you could even open your mouth to reassure him everything was alright that he scrambled out from under you and bolted off the bed.

“No, it’s oka–“

“You should go.” He quickly turned his back to you and made his way to his dresser, sifting frantically through the clothes. Whether he was actually looking for a particular article of clothing or just wanted to keep busy and avoid you, you’ll never know.

“Jungkook–“

“Please.”

He turned to look at you then, and the furrowed brows and frown of sheer desperation on his features was so strong that it looked as he was about to cry. And though it absolutely broke your heart to see him this distraught, you knew he needed you to listen to him. He needed you to leave.

Your attempt to swallow the lump in your throat was futile as you nodded your head and got to your feet. You would do as he asked, of course you would—but there was no way in hell you were leaving him to beat himself up over this.

He kept his back to you, face and neck and ears the color of tomatoes, though you approached him anyways and slowly put a hand to his shoulder.

“Please don’t worry, Jungkook... I promise it’s okay.” You curled your arms around him then, slowly and carefully so not to scare him off when you felt him stiffen beneath your touch. “That—that was the best experience of my life.”

And though you were beyond sheepish to admit such deep feelings aloud, you would do it tens times over if it meant giving Jungkook the confidence he needed. The look of pure bewilderment on his expression as he whipped his head around to look at you was well worth it. He thought you were crazy, you knew he did. But that didn’t make your words any less true.

When it was evident he wasn’t going to reply you smiled softly, reassuringly, before sliding your hand from his shoulder to his face to cradle his cheek in your palm. The spark of electricity was still there at the lightest of touches despite how close you’d just been, though this time you tried to ignore it in favor of leaning in and pressing your lips to his one last time.

His jaw was still slack from your previous words and his lips remained unmoving beneath the feathery kiss, too stunned from your touch to do anything, but you didn’t mind. Whatever he was battling with internally, you would let him deal with it however he saw fit, so long as he didn’t question where you stood. So what if he finished prematurely in his pants from solely dry humping? It didn’t matter because it was him—hotter even so because of it. And you would use your last dying breath making him understand that if that’s what it took.

He didn’t move from his position as you backed away and gave him a reluctant parting wave on your way out the door. As much as you didn’t want to leave him like this, you knew it’s what he wanted, so you were going to respect that.

After all, it wouldn’t be for long. There’s no way he was getting rid of you that easily.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic

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ginkgomoon · 3 years

Text

Gavin- King of my Heart

Happy blog birthday @cheri-translates! Here’s your present!! Hope you enjoy. 💙 🎉

You honestly don’t know why you were so terrified of chess.

Was it because it was the fear of losing? Or the fear of being humiliated? You would question yourself every time a chessboard appeared in your foresight.

Still, you took out the chessboard that had been casted away in the sad corner of your storage closet and wipe the box clean, sneezing from the minuscule dust particles escaping in the process.

“There are two opposing sides- black and white. White always makes the first move. How you win the game is by checkmating the opponent’s King.”

You lay the board flat on the coffee table in the living room then pour the pieces out, catching them before they roll off the edge. You make sure that everything was in the right order according to the guidebook as you check back and forth for each piece, hazily reciting the rules to yourself as you go. You adjust them carefully so that the pieces were all were staying perfectly aligned in their corresponding squares- white emulating black.

You knew Gavin had spare time during the weekends and so you used this opportunity to offer a game of chess. Surprisingly, he had never touched a chessboard in his life, but you guess it didn’t really matter since Gavin was used to thinking critically and strategically similar to his interactive simulation missions at STF. And of course, Gavin being the amazing man you love, is a quick learner and you have no doubt that he will perform well for a beginner.

“It’s not all about winning or losing, so don’t be so conflicted with the end result. You’re always a winner to me.”

Cookies that you baked beforehand- check. You had made sure not to make it overly sweet with the chocolate and sugar. Your pu’er tea accompanied by a matching Jupiter teapot and Moon teacups- check. You had bought them last week with Gavin and this would be the first time he’ll see it being used. Chessboard, good natural lighting from outside, comfy cushions to contribute to the cosiness and grounding sensation from sitting on the floor- all check. Yourself- check. Gavin... not check- yet.

You glance at the clock, noticing that it had just turned 1:59pm. Gavin should be here in exactly a minute.

You do a final sweep of the room, sighing from the satisfaction of the view being easy on the eyes for once. You know Gavin wouldn't mind the mess, but since you had the time to prepare and clean up beforehand, of course you took up the opportunity to do so and save you from the embarrassment afterwards.

The sound of the doorbell finally rings from outside, echoing through the walls of your home and heart. You feel your adrenaline pick up and dash towards the door to open for the person waiting behind, ready to let him in. Without having to say anything beforehand, you pulled him straight into a tight hug, with your head buried between his neck and shoulder.

Gavin- check, you remind yourself and smile. Nothing is missing.

“Hey,” he murmurs, hugging you right back. He then laughs, his voice sounding through the halls of the apartment complex. “I’m not even halfway through the door.”

You hug him tighter. You feel Gavin secretly smiling as he follows suit.

Being the first to let go, you finally lead him to the assortments of your hard work after he shuts the door behind him.

Gavin obediently sits down across from you on the carpet at white’s side of the board as you hand him the biggest cookie from the cookie platter. You watch him consume everything without hesitation, smiling at the remaining crumbs.

“Chocolate chip cookie made especially for you. Not too sweet this time, I promise. Should I have added chilli to this? Apparently the combination exists.”

“If that’s something you want to try making, sure.” He simultaneously chews while he smiles, his eyes fixating on you after you sit directly across from him.

You then pour the tea equally into the Moon cups and place one in front of him, making sure he could clearly recognise the cups- though not like he could ever forget.

“What do you think?” you exclaim.

He replies immediately with a cough. “It’s cute.”

You help yourself to your own cookie, letting the chocolate bits melt on your tongue. You smile too at tasting something edible that is of your own making, finally something that you and Gavin could eat safely without risking to add it to the long list of one of the “dark cuisine” foods.

“So about today, you said you wanted to teach me Chess?” he asks. You nod vigorously, a spark of happiness coming from within that you are the one now teaching Gavin instead of how it normally was the other way around.

“This piece is the King. It can only move one space at a time.” You point to the tallest piece that holds a cross at the top.

You then point to the piece fixated next to it, the one with the crown. “Next to it is the Queen. She can move anywhere she wants, however many squares she likes. She’s the most powerful piece in the game.”

You then point to the row above the King and Queen. “This row is full of pawns. They can move up two spaces in their first move. After that, they can only move one space up at a time.”

“When you’re older, you’ll find someone else to play chess with... and someone who will be by your side.”

That memory abruptly resurfaces from the depths of your subconscious, like each Chess piece of a chessboard gradually coming together with each piece of explanation you gave to Gavin. The black and white pieces- the good and bad memories, especially the ones with your father. You pause for a bit, before continuing on- before Gavin could notice the split second of hesitation.

“Rooks move horizontally and vertically, and Bishops can only go diagonally. Knights move two squares and one across on either side, like an “L” shape, and is the only piece that can jump over other pieces on the board,” you say, pointing to each corresponding piece. Gavin’s eyes follow your every move, nodding with his eyebrows slightly furrowing. You can’t help but let out a little smile from being able to capture a glimpse of this rarer side of Gavin- Commander Gavin.

“You have a choice to capture the opponent’s pieces if the opportunity ever comes up. The point of the game is to “checkmate” the other person’s King. This means that it is being targeted and has no other places to go. Before that, when the King is in danger but not checkmate, this means the King is in “check” and is forced to move. That’s it! As long as you remember these few rules, you’ll be okay.”

Gavin nods. “Got it," he responds, sternly. He most certainly is starting to look like a Chess grandmaster to you at the moment. You know he has to deduct investigations and complete various missions and STF tasks daily while you struggle to write the first draft for a show proposal. You feel he's way too intelligent, sometimes.

“Since you’re a beginner,” you start, “you can play as white first. White always makes the first move. We can start now if you don’t have any questions.”

Gavin pauses and observes each piece before him. Then, he reaches out for a pawn on the right side of his board and moves it forward two spaces. You move up the pawn in front of your King in response. Both of you slowly exchange moves, and more pieces congregate up in the middle of the chessboard.

“Who taught you how to play Chess?” Gavin finally asks.

“My father. Whenever he had time off set. He taught me a lot, including important life lessons relating to Chess as well. Though, I can't remember much.”

“Oh.” Gavin looks up from his chessboard, his eyes filling with concern. You look back with indifference, but smile, using this opportunity to stare right back. In this moment, you gradually take in the way his hair perfectly falls into place, with the sunlight highlighting the contours of his face and bringing out the shine in his amber eyes.

Your thoughts drift back to that autumn day, vividly reminiscing the ginkgo leaves dancing with the wind, pleasantly surprising you enough to stop your piano playing.

You blink out of that memory, and move your Queen towards Gavin’s King, cornering it with the support of a Rook.

“Checkmate.” You smile, a giggly feeling overcomes you from finally being able to beat Gavin at something, especially with a game that values a lot of strategy and analysing.

“Hm. Very good,” Gavin says, observing where I had cornered him, no doubt archiving this moment to use against me in future matches. Even though he lost, the corners of his mouth perks up at the sight of my joy.

“Let’s have a rematch! One more," you exclaim. Hopefully you could keep this enthusiasm up and form a winning streak.

Gavin helps reset the board without the help of the guidebook. This time, you play white and Gavin plays black. You both follow the same rhythm of how you two were the first time, however you notice Gavin’s movements were faster and more sure, strategically succeeding in capturing a lot of your pieces- pawns and all, though luckily not the Queen yet. The amount of growth he was displaying compared to earlier really shouldn’t surprise you, but it did anyway.

In the middle of the game, you make a bold risk, moving up the black Queen to the adjacent square to his King, certain that you have won this time again. “Checkmate!”

“But… you don’t have a supporting piece for it,” Gavin states, watching your face slowly flush in embarrassment. You observe his slim fingers move the King towards where your Queen was, and captures it. You grab your cup and take a sip of your tea in response, hopefully covering up your disappointment behind your hand. You kick yourself for having completely forgotten about that.

From then onwards, Gavin swiftly checkmates your King with the two Rooks lined up on the board, making it impossible for it to escape. You sigh. You tried your best, at least.

You try to disguise your disappointment in the wake of your defeat again with a smile and grab another cookie to chew on while Gavin studies the board. However, despite the result on your end, you were still admittedly proud of Gavin and allow yourself to feel grateful for being the only one to see this side of him to you.

“You lost a lot of pieces trying to attack. Especially with your Queen- you weren’t hesitant to sacrifice. Your pawn structure was weak and you moved without purpose.”

You stop munching the cookie. “You got all of that from those two games?”

Gavin nods slowly. He nonchalantly takes a sip of his third-time freshly poured tea, its steam floating towards the ceiling. “In STF simulations, you need to take note of every variable. Evol abilities, weather, weapons, and your fellow comrades- especially time. The criminal won’t hand you that much luxury. Every wrong decision would cost you. You need a plan for attack and defence, always. Always have a Plan B. If not, a Plan C. And if none of them will do, always have a Plan Z. Sometimes I’ll need to command nine groups at once. Other times it’ll just be me.”

You look at him blankly, your eyes widening as the only sign of response to his words. His eyes widen as well, not expecting that you would take it that way.

“I mean…” Gavin coughs before continuing, “it always works out. Please don’t worry. We’re highly trained for these operations, remember? I’ll always come back to you. I promise.” His hands reach out to hold yours at the table, meeting each other’s half-way.

"When I got used to holding your hand, buying different flowers for you each occasion, having reserved dinners and looking at the stars with you at night, I knew I couldn't continue the way like how I was before... before I met you again. Like being trapped in a building or apprehending someone and missing out of something that we planned in advance, I- I can't have that. Which is why I'd need to think of alternative operation routes, ones that require less sacrifice however still bear the same effectiveness as before. This is why I am the way I am now."

Who knew back then that this man would be your first love- a man so honest and sincere. Back when you would take a moment to smile at him in the hallways, receive help for retrieving the textbooks on the 2-metre shelves or just those few times when passing by the senior classrooms on your way to the music practice room and see him sleeping or staring outside the window where he sat.

“And you’ll find him. That person who will be with you through all life’s joy and heartbreak. Someone who will never leave you. Your King.”

You recall your father’s words as you squeeze Gavin’s hand a little more tighter. He squeezes right back three times.

You notice Gavin’s eyes awaken with a certain emotion that only you will notice- that something only you will ever know- directed at only you.

You squeeze his hand a little more tighter. He squeezes right back three times.

“Whether life is a game of Chess or not, you’re the only one who can dominate my territory, my pieces and my King. And when it comes to you, I’ve already won... my Queen.”

Closing his eyes, he brings forth your hand to his lips and lightly kisses it, already forever fulfilling his declaration of love.

I haven't posted any fan fiction before, let alone officially write one. This also accounts my first time having written this particular second person perspective, (apart from the Blue Temperature Gavin Empty Arena story) as this isn’t how I usually write. Normally I use first person and more indirect dialogue more than direct dialogue in my creative writing but this was really fun to try! Honestly, I couldn’t help myself but to bring forth some foreshadowing/parallels with the actual main storyline because admittedly, my writing takes need a lot of thought to understand the techniques I use and why my writing is the way it is. So, I won't be completely sure on if this will be received or not HAHA. But apart from everything else, this piece of work was made for this very special case for this very special day for a very special person so I won’t be posting much fan fiction as much as my other current work as I still prioritise my analyses and miscellaneous posts more but if you happen to want to see more, please let me know :) Thanks for reading and let’s all show Cheri much love for her accomplishments and milestone, today!

#I’m cry typing this #End the story with something cheesy like the official mlqc writers YES #was more concerned with this than my assignment LOL #mlqc #love and producer #恋与制作人 #mr love queens choice #mlqc gavin #gavin #mlqc Gavin fanfic #mlqc fanfic #Gavin x reader #happy birthday Cheri

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1-800-roflmao · 4 years

Text

Wash Day Delight Pt. 5

Rating: General Audiences

WARNINGS: None

Fandom: Undertale (Video Game)

Relationships: (Papyri Harem) Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Underfell)/Reader, Papyrus (Underswap)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader, Papyrus (Underfell) & Reader

Characters: Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Edge (UF Pap), Blue (US Sans), Stretch (US Pap), Sans (Undertale), and Mentions of Other AU Skeletons

Add. Notes: Reader Is POC - mainly mixed/black coded with thick curly hair. I try to keep descriptions vague. Anyone is welcome to read.

*Papyrus has a moment to himself. Enter Sans, Blue, and Stretch. Edge proposes a toast.

**EDITED SINCE TUMBLR MIXED UP THE PARAGRAPHS

PREVIOUS || FIRST || NEXT

Papyrus was practically beaming at the opportunity he had caught by the horns that morning. What a spectacular way to start his day! He’d been only a little worried that she might shoot down his idea. Okay, he had been very worried. Especially considering she had explained she planned to do chores today as well. Thank goodness, his brilliant mind was in tip top shape today! And he didn’t have the little human here to fluster him. It had also been lucky that Blue was there. The excitable version of his brother had been quite eager to help him convince her to come over once he realized who he was texting and what was going on.

“REMIND HER HOW MUCH SHE LOVED OUR MASTER BATH!” “SHE’S SUPPOSED TO BE PAMPERING HERSELF AND RESTING. CHORES ARE NEITHER OF THOSE!” “WE CAN ASSIST HER WITH THOSE CHORES IF THEY REALLY NEED TO BE DONE…” “TELL HER I’LL GET MY BROTHER’S HOODIE FOR HER!”

That last suggestion he remembered had resulted in a long pause before Blue had laughed awkwardly under Papyrus’s questioning and only slightly judging gaze. His judgemental gaze was soon pulled to his phone as she had replied with a wide-eyed emoji and then stars and then finally:

Fluffy: Promise?

He didn’t know whether to be impressed by Blue or disappointed in his friend that it had taken the simple promise of a hoodie to get her to agree so quickly. Was it because it was Stretch’s specifically? There was no way to tell since they had not offered anyone else’s clothing. It stung for some reason. Idly, he rubbed at his sternum to ease the odd pain away as he sent a reply back.

CoolDude: THE GREAT PAPYRUS! AND MALEFICENT BLUE! NEVER BREAK A PROMISE.

CoolDude: WE’LL BE OVER IN JUST A FEW MINUTES TO PICK YOU UP

Fluffy: Could you give me thirty?

Fluffy: I need to get dressed and pack a bag.

CoolDude: OFCOURSE! SEE YOU SOON!

Needless to say, it wasn’t long after the two had convinced her to come over that the whole household was made aware they would have a guest today in the family group chat. Blue had run off to find his brother with a promise to come back in time to go. Papyrus assumed he was going to try and convince his brother to give up his hoodie for the day. They technically didn’t need it till later though. Most likely she would be rushing off to the bathroom as soon as she stepped foot into their home.

Pocketing his phone, he settled into finishing the task Blue had been helping him with. There were only a few more dishes left to clean from their late breakfast--brunch? Was it still technically too early for brunch? Shrugging, he lost himself in cleaning and tried not to watch the clock obsessively. So hyper focused, he didn’t notice his brother shortcutting into the kitchen just beside him.

○●○●○●○●○

Sans just watched Papyrus currently wiping at the same spot on the counter for what seemed the umpteenth time. “hey, bro, think you missed a spot,” he finally decided to make presence known. He was rewarded with very on brand screech as his taller sibling nearly jumped through the ceiling in surprise. Quite a feat considering they had purposely high ceilings.

“SANS!!!” Sans’ lazy perma smile just perked up as his brother stomped a foot and crossed his arms, sockets narrowing. “WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING SHORTCUTS IN THE HOUSE?!” Papyrus scolded, foot tapping away.

“not to,” he answered without a care. His tone said it all. He’d do it again and again. This was a war Papyrus would not win. He bit back a laugh as his brother just sucked in a breath, palms pressed together in a praying motion in front of his teeth. “aw, paps, come on, it’s not that bad,” he pleaded playfully.

“YOU ARE CORRECT,” Papyrus started and Sans arched a brow bone in mild surprise, “IT’S NOT THAT IT’S BAD. IT IS SIMPLY FRUSTRATING THAT YOU HAVE TWO PERFECTLY FUNCTIONAL LEGS AND YET, YOU FIND EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO NOT USE THEM!”

Sans just smiled in turn and that smile just stretched wider as he watched his brother literally flinch and glare even harder. “NO.” His sockets were practically curling with how big his smile was getting as Papyrus continued to command him to cease. It was too late though. It was already in motion.

“just trying to get a leg up on life, bro.” It was like music to his nonexistent ears as Papyrus screeched that signature NYEH! of his. He would have tossed a few more puns his brother’s way, but… “so, what has your spine in a twist?” While he could guess what had his brother stressing--considering a certain human was visiting today--it did not hurt to ask.

His brother’s lazy pun had done its job to lighten his mood significantly. He had expected more, but instead Sans had thrown a curveball. The question was sobering. He wasn’t stressed. He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t… right? Picking up the rag he had used to clean the counters, he brought it to the sink and started ringing it out. “MY SPINE IS PERFECTLY ALIGNED AS USUAL, SANS,” he replied, tossing the rag in to a small hamper just outside the connected laundry room.

Silence followed and he could feel his brother’s eyelights boring into his back. “uh huh…” Yeah, that tone said he hadn’t believed a word of it. Rather than pushing with words, his brother had settled for simply staring and tapping at the counter. It was a battle of wills at this point.

Just as the tapping of his brother’s phalanges against the countertop was starting to tick away his resolve, the tension was shattered as Blue reentered the kitchen with his own brother in tow. Papyrus could hear the energetic version of his brother nagging at his lazy self to wash his hoodie before lending it out. Finally turning around, he aimed a bright smile at the swapped brothers; pointedly, he ignored his brother’s judging gaze. “BLUE, I SEE YOU’VE SUCCEEDED IN CONVINCING YOUR BROTHER!” he declared, marching up to the two.

A little amused huff escaped Blue, “DIDN’T TAKE MUCH CONVINCING HONESTLY,” he admitted.

“OH?” Papyrus looked to Stretch for elaboration and the other just gave an easy shrug.

“little miss has been eying my hoodie for a good bit,” he stated, an amused lilt to his voice, “was honestly surprised she never tried to sneak it or ask for it before now.”

“SHE DIDN’T ASK FOR IT,” Papyrus found himself saying before he could think better of it. It wasn’t a lie, but why did it feel like he said something mean. That odd feeling was pressing at his sternum again.

Stretch simply rolled the lollipop held in his jaws from one side to the other. The hard candy clicking gently at the back of his teeth as he leveled a seemingly unbothered stare on his doppelganger, but Papyrus knew no matter how much the slouching brother seemed to act like his brother, he was still a Papyrus and Papyri were more observant than they often let on. He knew those honey colored eye lights were searching for every little cue to put together the puzzle put before him.

“THAT IS TRUE. I DID OFFER IT,” Blue cut in, a shared moment of eye contact between the older brothers missed by the younger.

A little hum could be heard from Stretch as he straightened up with a roll of his shoulders in a mock stretch. “hadn’t meant it to come off like that so let me reword,” he started with a short chuckle. “she’d been wishing on all our sweaters and hoodies,” he amended, his lazy smile pulling up at the corners as he now had to look slightly down at his doppelganger without his usual slouch.

That ugly, heavy feeling wasn’t pressing as insistently after Stretch’s words. “OH…” Papyrus hoped his voice came off as neutral. Sadly, he could feel his magic betraying him as his cheekbones warmed.

“you all can’t tell me you’ve never noticed,” he challenged the room, finally breaking his staredown with Papyrus as he looked to the other two occupants.

Sans was the first to input his agreement with a shallow nod as he leaned on the counter. “she tries to be subtle about it,” he remarked, an easy smile on his face as he rested his chin against his palm, “sneaking little glances here and there, dropping little hints…” His sockets closed with a happy curve as his deep laugh rumbled in his chest as he remembered the offhanded questions and shy beating around the bush their friend opted for instead of simply asking outright to borrow one of their jackets.

Opening his sockets, he resumed watching his brother. His light pink flush had dimmed and he had lifted a hand up to his mouth, digits curled as he seemed to be thinking. He just smiled more as Papyrus seemed to be relaxing as he worked through his thoughts. The more anecdotes they shared, the more his sockets seemed to widen with understanding.

“LET’S NOT FORGET SHE HAD TRIED ACQUIRE YOUR SWEATER JUST LAST NIGHT, CREAMPUFF.” Edge’s voice cut through the chatter. They had all jumped and seemed to move as one to look at the sharp skeleton currently shutting the fridge door. When had he come in? Had they been so engrossed they had somehow missed him coming in? Edge just smirked smugly at all of them as he carried the carafe of lemonade over to the island.

Sans just chuckled and turned his attention back to his brother. His brow bones perking as he saw Papyrus’s smile wasn’t strained anymore and his tense posture had fled. A glance to Blue and the other gave him the tiniest shrug before following it with a sneaky thumbs up. Yeah, everything was good again. Let’s not question it for now. “hey, bro, don’t cha have a guest to pick up?” he commented.

The energetic duo both looked to the clock on the wall. A rather impressive synchronized gasp left the two. “NYEH!” “MWEH!” “WE’RE LATE!!” The smaller skeleton just barely managed to catch the taller by the hand as he went to dash out the door. “SORRY, PAPYRUS! NO TIME FOR THAT!” Blue rushed out an apology before the smell of ozone filled the kitchen and barely a second later they were gone.

○●○●○●○●○

“hey, Edge, mind pouring me a glass of that lemonade?” Stretch had settled at the island with a hopeful smile.

His request was met with a huff as Edge opened the cabinets above and retrieved a glass for himself, “POUR YOURSELF ONE, ASH TRAY.”

The orange clad skeleton just hummed around his lollipop before grabbing the sweet, honey flavored treat by it’s stick and removing it from his mouth. “aww, why not? you poured one for Sans there and he didn’t even ask,” he pouted playfully, gesturing to Sans who was nursing his glass of lemonade just beside him.

“don’t have to ask when you’re-” Both Papyri still in the room shot him a warning glare before he could even finish and he lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “fine, fine , tough room,” he joked. Edge just rolled his eyes, while Stretch let his glare linger a bit longer to make sure Sans didn’t try to sneak it in.

“I REFUSE TO WATCH YOU RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD GLASS OF LEMONADE AGAIN,” the sharper skeleton stated as he poured his own glass and took a sip, sighing at the refreshing taste.

Stretch feigned insult, “i’m not the only one who puts honey in their lemonade, edgelord.”

“NO, BUT I WOULDN’T SAY YOU ARE PUTTING HONEY IN LEMONADE WITH YOU,” Edge started, wrinkles forming on his nose ridge in disgust as he spoke, “NO, WITH YOU IT IS MORE ACCURATE TO SAY YOU PUT LEMONADE IN YOUR HONEY.” He took a long sip like he could taste the sticky sweetness on his tongue and needed to wash it down.

“you got me there,” Stretch popped his lollipop back in his mouth and settled in, laying against the counter with a resigned sigh. He could hear Edge grumbling about how of course he was right. Rolling his lollipop, he moved his attention back to Sans. The prime doppelganger had simply been sitting quietly with an easy smile on his round skull. As if sensing Stretch’s stare, his white eyelights locked with honey colored ones.

“need something, pal?” The words held no threat or warning, just an invitation to ask away.

“what was up with your brother earlier?” Stretch already had a guess. He just wanted confirmation at this point. The stout skeleton apparently had no plans to play along and just shrugged noncommittally.

“no clue what you’re talking about, Stretch,” Sans replied, finishing off his lemonade with a satisfied sigh, “thanks for the drink, Edge.” He sent a genuinely thankful smile Edge’s way before the smell ozone once again filled the room and an empty glass was abandoned on the countertop before a now empty seat.

Edge fought down a smile that tugged at his teeth. It wasn’t too hard with Stretch still in the room though. Currently, the laidback skeleton was watching him with a curious look. “WHAT?” he snapped, scowling as a knowing grin was aimed at him.

“you’re in on it,” the other stated matter of factly.

“I AM IN ON NOTHING. AND QUIT THAT CLUELESS ACT,” Edge snipped, crossing his arms with a cocked hip, “I WAS THERE LONG ENOUGH TO SEE YOUR POSTURING EARLIER.” It had been a surprise to see the usually passive skeleton standing to his full height and purposely towering over their prime version. He cut off Stretch’s denial with a sharp growl, “I WON’T LISTEN TO BULLSHIT, STRETCH.”

Stretch just gave a defeated chuckle as he sat up in his seat. “two for two today, Edge. you’re on a roll,” he commended.

Edge didn’t see nor hear any regret from his alternate. The two simply took a moment to stare each other down. A silent measuring up before the standing skeleton reached up into the cabinets and set down a new glass. Curious honey eyelights watched as a lemonade was poured to only fill half the glass before it was slid over to him with a gentle push.

“what’s this?” Stretch questioned. He leant forward in his seat and tilted his skull as he shifted his stare from the half full glass to Edge who was refilling his own.

“LEMONADE,” he answered smartly and Stretch didn’t bother restrain his rolling eyelights.

“i can see that.”

“THEN WHY ASK?”

“you know that’s not wh-”

“JUST FILL IT WITH YOUR INFERNAL HONEY ALREADY,” Edge snapped, cutting Stretch off with an impatient scowl.

Knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere with his darker counterpart, he fished in his pullover pocket and pulled out his signature bear shaped honey bottle. Snapping the top, he upended the bottle over the glass and squeezed. The viscous, thick amber liquid cut through the pale white lemonade and pooled at the bottom of the glass. It took a minute to build the thick layer he wanted and once he was done, Edge handed him a spoon begrudgingly to stir his monstrosity. Finished, he looked to Edge again questioningly only to see the other holding up his glass. The sharp toothed skeleton had a cocky smirk on his skull, “IF YOU’RE SERIOUS ABOUT THAT CHALLENGE EARLIER, JUST KNOW YOU HAVE COMPETITION.”

Stretch was sure his jaw was on the floor as he realized what was going on. He had known the tougher skeleton was soft on their human, but he hadn’t thought it went further than platonic interest. That only left Willow and Mutt from the Papyri who seemed to show no romantic interest. At least he hoped. That may change considering today was the day for surprises. Sucking in a breath, he sat up and raised up his own glass, tapping it against Edge’s with a less intense smirk of his own. “noted,” he acknowledged, “but the true competitor is Creampuff, ya know. you’ve seen those two together.”

Edge nodded. It was hard to miss the looks those two often sent to each other. It could be absolutely suffocating at times to be in the same room as them when they start acting sweet and fluffy. He took a moment before tapping his glass against Stretch’s for a second time, “A SECOND TOAST TO THE IDIOTS FINALLY WAKING UP,” before they each took a sip of their respective drinks.

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madpanda75 · 5 years

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The Romantics Series “In Sickness and In Health” Part One

Revisiting my Romantics Series with a little two parter. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while now. A huge thanks to @sass-and-suspenders for giving me the idea for the title and letting my blursty monkey ass send her snippets 😜

Warning: NSFW— Just a pinch of smut

The first warm spring weekend at Harvard meant frat boys tossing a frisbee and sorority girls sunbathing. For you and Rafael, it was a chance to go outside under your favorite oak tree and study. However, little studying was being done by either of you. You were laying on the blanket with your legs propped up against the tree trunk, crossed at the ankles. Kate Chopin’s The Awakening lay abandoned on your chest as you napped.

Rafael, on the other hand, was more focused on you than his philosophy notes. From your polished toes, up your long legs to the delicate forearm shielding your eyes from the sun, and finally the crown of hair haloed around your head. The sunlight streaming through the leaves, made each strand shimmer. He could turn his head and brush his lips against your calf if he wanted to. Instead he shifted in his seat, using his binder to cover his half-hard cock as he watched you stretch like a cat. Your Nirvana t-shirt rising up to reveal a strip of bare skin on your stomach.

Perhaps it was the stress of school or maybe it was the four years of pent-up emotions Rafael had for you, finally bubbling up to the surface. Whatever it was, it seemed as if all you had to do was glance his way or accidentally brush up against his body and he was hard as a rock. He felt like a prepubescent middle schooler.

“I feel you,” you mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Rafael cleared his throat and silently willed his body to calm down.

“I feel you watching me.” You lowered your arm and opened one eye, peering up at him. “What’s up?”

The irony of your words was not lost on Rafael. “Nothing,” he replied, suddenly fascinated by Kirkegaard’s existential philosophy.

A smile tugged at your lips. “Liar.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and nudged his shoulder with your foot. “Come on, I can always tell when you’re lying. Your right eye twitches a little bit.”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a burger. Maybe go see a movie? Como agua para chocolate is still playing at the theater.”

“I can’t. I’m supposed to help Chet Aldrich study for our feminist literature studies exam.” You glanced down at your watch. “Actually, I need to get going.”

Rafael scoffed. “You mean to tell me that misogynist frat boy is taking a feminist literature class?”

You shrugged and laced up your Doc Martens. “I think he thought it was a bird course. Little did he know that Dr. Gupta is ruthless. Poor guy is in way over his head. And anyways, he’s kinda cute in a Jason Priestly sorta way.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. Chet Aldrich was a legacy and the president of Sigma Alpha Epsilon, the oldest fraternity at Harvard. Having had a few classes with Chet, Rafael had seen firsthand what a flirt he was, always talking up the pretty girls to help him pass his classes and maintain his subpar GPA.

Despite his misgivings, Rafael walked with you over to where Chet said he would meet you. “I still can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“He asked for my help. What was I supposed to say? I think you’re judging him way too quickly. You don’t even know him.”

“Wait a minute.” He narrowed his eyes a bit, noticing the way you were fidgeting, the blush on your cheeks. It was as if someone had adjusted the antenna on a TV just a hair and all of a sudden the picture became clear. “Do you like this guy?”

“Maybe,” you admitted.

Rafael felt like his heart sank into his stomach. “Maybe,” he softly repeated.

You stared down at your shoes, unable to look your best friend in the eye. Four years. That was how long you had pined over Rafael. There were moments where you just couldn’t take it anymore. Moments where you thought about marching right up to his dorm room and confessing your feelings, but fear always stopped you from taking that next step. You were afraid he wouldn’t reciprocate. Afraid that your friendship would never be the same. But most of all, you were afraid that you’d be left heartbroken and alone. Once the spring semester started, you decided it was time to move on and try to find someone else. It was better to have Rafael as a friend than nothing at all.

After your confession, both of you stood in silence when a Red BMW blaring Informer by Snow came around the corner, screeching to a halt in front of you. Chet Aldrich hopped out of the car and gave you a dazzling smile. Well, you thought it was dazzling. Rafael thought it was smarmy. “Hey, baby. Ready to study?”

You giggled and twirled a strand of your hair. “Absolutely!”

Chet walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for you. “Your chariot awaits.” He pointed to Rafael, who was currently trying to choke back the bile rising in his throat. “Hey, I know you. It’s Rudy or Randy, right?”

“Actually it’s Rafael,” he snapped at the frat boy.

Chet nodded his head. “Oh yeah, Ra-fa-el,” he slowly said.

“Are you kidding me with this guy?” Rafael mumbled so that only you would hear.

“Be nice,” you quietly chastised and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Y/N, wait,” Rafael called out as you walked away, taking your hand and pulling you into a hug. “Just be careful, ok?” he whispered in your ear, squeezing you tight for a second longer before letting go.

Your face grew hot at your friend’s sudden surprise affection and you briefly wondered if he even noticed as you tried to brush it off. “Relax, Rafi. I’ll be fine. I’m not being shipped off to war. I’m going to study.” Waving one final time, you went back over to Chet.

“Don’t worry,” Chet said, shutting the passenger door after you stepped inside. “I’ll be sure to have her back in one piece.” He winked and got in the car, driving away and leaving Rafael alone in the dust.

*****

You straddled Rafael on the bed, kissing him hard, all teeth and tongue. Your books tossed aside and long forgotten during your hot and heavy makeout session. You rocked against his denim-clad erection, your hair tickling his face as you caressed his tongue with your own.

Rafael whimpered and ran his hands down your back. Grabbing your ass, he encouraged you to continue your movements, the wet spot in his boxers growing larger. The collective sounds of your labored breathing and soft moans echoed around the room with every slow drag of your hips.

“Rafi, make love to me,” you murmured between kisses.

He groaned, already on the brink of coming in his jeans. “Are you sure?”

“Please, I need you,” you purred, your voice dripping with desire.

In an instant, Rafael flipped you over, rendering you on your back. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed you were completely naked. “What?” He looked around the bedroom, the clothes you were wearing only seconds ago were nowhere to be found. “How did you—”

You giggled and licked your lips, your gaze lowering to his groin. “Damn. All these years and I never realized you were packing.”

Rafael looked down and realized that his clothes were gone. “But I didn’t—”

“Rafi, fuck me,” you whined, your eyes half-hooded with lust.

No longer caring where your or his clothes were by that point, he crashed his mouth into yours, spreading your legs. His large hand palmed at your breast, pinching your hardened nipple.

“Rafael,” you gasped and arched into his touch.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned, aligning himself with your entrance when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Tilting his head back, Rafael’s jaw dropped when he saw Chet Aldrich standing by the bed.

“You’re too late, Rudy. She’s mine,” he said with a smirk.

“It’s Rafael,” he sneered.

“Whatever. Get out of the way.” Chet pushed Rafael off you, sending him flying off the bed.

Rafael sat bolt upright, his t-shirt soaked with sweat. Running a hand over his face, he glanced over at his bedside clock. It was 7:30. Chet Aldrich was probably putting the moves on you at this very moment. He flopped back onto the mattress, his mind reeling over you, over Chet, over the bizarre dream he just had.

Your behavior that afternoon bewildered him. He had never seen you flirt before. That wasn’t you. You were the girl that would make a quippy remark whenever someone put the moves on you, choosing to walk away arm in arm with Rafael instead. Maybe after four years, he didn’t know you at all. Maybe he really had missed his chance with you. Putting his hand over his heart, he felt dull ache radiating from beneath his rib cage.

He sighed and looked down to find his painfully hard cock sticking straight up. Apparently, you made quite an impression in his dreams, that is until Chet Aldrich interrupted. Unzipping his jeans, he freed his erection and closed his eyes. He began to stroke himself, imagining what he would do to you if you were there— worshipping every inch of your skin, making you come undone with his mouth before crawling on top of you, thrusting into your pussy, feeling your slick walls grip him.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned, smearing the precum that had leaked out of his weeping head against his shaft. His breath hitched as he sped up his movements, squeezing himself at the root of his cock all while fantasizing about how you would writhe in pleasure underneath him. The noises you would make. Your sweaty bodies molded perfectly to each other. He was so close, right about to tumble off the edge when the phone ringing pulled him back.

Rafael whined and wiped his hand off, reaching for the phone on the nightstand. “Hello,” he grumbled.

“Rafael? It’s Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Mrs. Y/L/N,” he squeaked and nearly dropped the reciever while covering himself with a pillow, as if your mother had the ability to see what he was doing through the phone. “Is everything ok?” A small sob escaped her lips and his pulse began to quicken. “Did something happen?”

All the color drained from his face listening to her, only processing certain parts. Car accident. You. Mount Auburn Hospital. “I’m on the first flight out of Chicago,” she said. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind staying with her until I get there? I would ask her roommate, but Rebecca is away at a crew competition.”

“Absolutely. I’m on my way.” Rafael stood up and nearly walked out of the room when he realized that his pants were still dangling around his ankles.

“Thank you. You’re such a good friend to Y/N.” She sniffled. “You know, she hates hospitals. Ever since—”

“I know,” he softly replied. “I’ll head over right now.” Panic began to set in as soon as he hung up with your mom. Running out the door, several thoughts came to his mind—for you to be ok and that he was going to murder Chet Aldrich.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @melsquared79 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier @amirightcounselor @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @imjustreallynosy @graniairish @ashley-chi @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613 @imagine-all-the-imagines @mysterioustrashadventures

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fan fiction #barba #barba fanfic #barba fic #barba imagine #barba x reader #baby rafi #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine #the romantics

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asphalt-cocktail · 5 years

Text

Codebreaker- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Girl in the Chair

Summary: Zero isn’t the absence of value, in fact, Zero is perhaps one of the most valuable people among the ghosts. Being coined their ‘guy in the chair’ meant that Zero was a ghost among ghosts and is only called from her spot in the shadows when she and Four are the only people who haven’t been caught on camera by a large criminal organization.

A/N: What’s up cuties! AC here again, back at it with a brand new series! I’m not going to lie, not a lot happens in this chapter it is really just to establish sort of a background on the characters, get the plot rolling, and establish some tension between these two. I am trying to make this one a slow burn fic with a lot of sexual tension and pinning, maybe there will be smut, maybe there wont. It all depends what the people want! The taglist is open so please shoot me an ask if you would like to be added!

Pairing: Four x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Violence, illegal activity, guns, kind of kidnapping, language, tension is building, very politically charged content, not proof read

Series Masterlist

Asks

Tag list is located at the bottom, please send an ASK if you would like to be tagged or if you would just like to chat about the fic/life in general and let me know if the tags do not work.

Beads of sweat trickled down the back of your neck while you sat, kneeling in front of the mess of wires and metal parts. It was so god damn hot in this stupid shed. They really couldn’t have housed you somewhere else?

Of course not, you were a grunt worker, the low man on the totem pole, a peon compared to everyone else in the organization. That was why you were stuffed in this hot dusty shed in the back of someone’s house. Mike probably didn’t even know you name, he only cared that you could make his products work.

You were a 23-year-old engineering PhD student studying materials. Your dream was to create more ecofriendly and cheap filters for water so that it could be easily accessible to those in impoverished areas of the world. Water is a basic necessity, not a right. So how the fuck did you wind up here, making bombs for what may or may not be an ecoterrorism group and hacking into large corporate databases on their behalf?

Well, you hang around the wrong crowd long enough, you’ll eventually find your way stuffed in some guy named Mike’s shed who believes Lions should be fed tofu.

You really didn’t mind it, aside from a few wacky ideologies Mike held, he and his troupe were relatively nice and stood for what you stood for: clean water, properly paid migrant workers, and sustainable living.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your greasy and dirty hand as you tinkered away, piecing together a small pipe bomb. It was for your next target, a large family corporation that had a penchant for exploiting migrant workers by promising benefits and paths to citizenship in exchange for low, nearly inhuman pay. What they stood for make you feel sick, so you honestly didn’t feel bad knowing that this pipe bomb was going to be used to blow one of their corporate office entrances to bits in the middle of the night when no one was there.

It would serve as a warning.

After you finally finished connecting the last few bits together you carefully wiped it down and placed it inside the packaged box, then disposed of your gloves and changed your clothes, making sure to put your old ones in the burn pile. It seemed a bit excessive, but the last thing you wanted was to have anything linked back to you with bomb residue on it.

You sat in front of the computer, back slightly hunched over the keyboard while the lighting from the screen illuminated your face “Are you sure you don’t want the light on?” Mike said turning towards you

You let out a deep and irritated sigh, “What are you, a fucking idiot?” You a snapped as your eyes continued to stare at the security footage that rolled on the screen, “We’re in a van about to set off a bomb do you think turning on a light, so I don’t damage my eyesight is more important than getting caught?” Mike shrugged, you had a point.

You checked the clock 12:30am. It was time.

You grabbed the burner phone and flipped it open, dialing the number that would set off the timer. You gaze caught a small flicker of movement in the corner, a shadow that shouldn’t have been there. Your heart jumped when you saw a security guard walking to the front door, “Fuck,” You said, “Fuck, someone is in there, I have to disarm it!” You felt panic flooding through your veins and your heart rate began to increase.

“[Y/N], there isn’t enough time,” Mike snapped, his voice causing you to jump, “You won’t make it and you know it.” He pointed out, “It’s fine, what’s one less corporate pawn.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched the seconds roll past on the security footage, knowing there were only minutes until it detonated, you could make it couldn’t you? You burst out the back of the van, gripping your laptop tightly to your chest and began to run as fast as you could. You tripped over your feet, stumbling in the grass and picked yourself right back up. You flipped open the burner, 1 minute 37 seconds. You could see the building coming into view and could feel your lungs burning, you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you had run that hard and that fast.

The closer you got to the building, the closer the bomb got to detonation. You clenched your jaw, ignoring the burning in your thighs and pressed on.

Your efforts were useless, you realized that when you woke up on the ground covered in rubble with your ears ringing. You coughed, your lungs felt chalky and your eyes burned from the layer of soot that had built up in them. When your vision finally cleared you could see grey and black dust settling and that the majority of the corporate office had been destroyed.

Fucking hell, your pipe bomb shouldn’t have been that strong. It should have just been enough to collapse the front entrance. You struggled to get up, the pain in your arms was excruciating and the dizziness in your head made it seem almost impossible to stand. You cried out in pain when you finally pushed yourself up, I need to get out of here, you thought. You still had that stupid burner phone on you.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” You turned to see an EMT coming towards you, his voice hammered against your ringing ears and his figure looked fuzzy, you really needed to get the fuck out of here.

“I’m fine, I don’t need help.” You barely recognized your voice from how hoarse it was.

“Ma’am, you’re bleeding, you need to sit down.” The EMT grabbed your shoulders and you shrugged them off, once again yelling in pain.

“Get off me.” You said stumbling as you thrashed against them.

It wasn’t until you felt the cold barrel of a gun nipping at your temple that you realized this wasn’t an ordinary EMT, “You’re going to come with me, got it? Or do you want the feds finding your ass.” His voice was harsh and sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded your head, wincing at how tightly he was squeezing you before he threw you in the back of the ambulance. He drove for what seemed like ages only because you were fading in and out of consciousness. When he finally stopped, he woke you up, slapping at the sides of your face. You harshly turned your head way “What the fuck?” You croaked once more and tried to twist away only to find that you were hand cuffed to a gurney.

“How did you hack into the security system?” He was obviously done with formalities.

“You can’t prove anything.” You hissed.

“Where did you get the supplies, and how have you and your organization been able to go under the radar with these attacks for so long?”

“Bet you’re a fucking fed,” You spat, you couldn’t stand the cesspool that was more commonly known as the American government.

The guy smiled at you, flashing a perfectly aligned smile, “I’m not a cop. I just want to know how you’re so good at navigating the deep web and creating explosives.” He seemed genuinely interested, and it didn’t seem like you denying things was going to get yourself unhandcuffed anytime soon.

You let out a shaky sigh and shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m an engineering student I just wanted to buy Adderall to help me study for finals, so I bought it off the deep web, then Mike invited me to join his wanna be ELF group and I joined.” You answered honestly.

“Wanna be ELF group?” He his eyebrows arched with amusement, “You realize they have been using your explosives all over the country, did you really think that their attacks were only focused in this area?” You really hadn’t been paying attention to how many devices you would make or what Mike wanted you to order from the deep web, you would just do it with no questions asked, “There were six bombs planted in that building, you realize that don’t you?” You furrowed your brows with confusion, there was only supposed to be one at the entrance and what did he mean by all over the country?

You shrugged and let out a long sigh, you had really dug yourself into a deep hole “I don’t ask questions, I just make and order whatever he gives me on the list.”

“Why?” His question caught you off guard and he repeated himself, this time leaning in closer.

“Jesus, what are you going to do, kiss me?” You said turning your face away, “Give me some space, you smell like fucking garlic.” After he backed up you continued “I think that the American government is a cesspool on the face of society and they just stands by while people suffer. I’m sick of it.” you answered honestly.

“I’m Wade by the way.” He said finally introducing himself, “Don’t worry, I already know who you are.” He said brushing your response away, “Anyways, how would you like to join a group of people who are going over some real nasty people. I’m talking top of the line scum.” You arched your eyebrow with interest and urged him to continue, “This isn’t some small-time gig, I’m talking about taking down whole governments.”

“Do I get paid?” you quickly asked.

Wade couldn’t help but smirk, “No,” He laughed, “But don’t worry I’ll take care of your expenses.”

“What like some glorified sugar daddy?” You asked making a weird face at him.

Wade shrugged his shoulders “Something like that,” He sharply inhaled, remembering one important detail “Oh, right one more thing, if you’re going to join you have to go completely off the grid. You know like fake your death, no contact with your family, that sort of stuff.”

“No student loans?” Wade nodded his head, seeing interest sparkling in your eyes, “Fine with me, it looks like I died anyways with that fucking blast.”

After that meeting you were given the number zero.

Zero isn’t the absence of value, in fact you might have been one of the most valuable people on the team. The only problem was that the team didn’t know who you were. They didn’t know who ordered their supplies, or how One knew everything about everyone, or how their records were able to be so easily erased.

From what you saw they all seemed like nice enough people, but you preferred your ‘girl in the chair’ position and behind scenes work.

One even promised you that he would only call on you in a special occasion. Right now, seemed to be that special occasion considering he was ringing you up at 3 in the morning.

“Someone better be dying, One.” You said immediately upon answering your phone.

“No one is, not yet at least.” You could hear the stupid grin behind his voice, “I need you for a mission.”

You sat up in your bed, “Mission? No, I don’t do missions, I sit in the chair.” You said, panic arising in your voice.

One let out a sigh, “Well, you do now. Be at the base within the hour, we have a team meeting.”

So, you were thirty minutes late for good measure. There was no way you were going to be the first one to show up, it would have been hell having to sit there and explain the same story over and over again as new faces entered the room. So, you walked in the room, confidently late.

You might have been a little too confident because the sound of several guns being cocked and pointed in your direction as well as everyone being on guard caused you to freeze, “Easy, easy, guys. Christ you’re like a bunch of fucking animals.” One said quickly running in front of you with his arms up, “Put your guns down, and you” He said turning and pointing in your face, “You’re late. I told you an hour.”

You shrugged, “I didn’t want to be the first one in the room.” You said stuffing your hands in your sweatshirt pockets and walking around him, taking your seat on a stack of pallets.

One pinched his forehead and let out a deep sigh, “Well, now that everyone’s shown up you can go ahead and introduce yourself.” He said nudging your shoulder.

You gave an awkward wave “Hello, I’m Zero.” You introduced yourself and gave a short nod “Nice to meet you all.”

“Tell them what you do, it’s not fair knowing why everyone else was picked.” One sounded like a scolding mother

You sighed “What is this the first day of college?” you quickly retorted, causing a few of the team members to cover their mouths, hiding their laughter “I’m the codebreaker, the supply man, the explosives expert, the guy in the chair. Whatever you want to call me, just know I do the behind the scenes work.” You tried to not sound too prideful on your position.

“We have a supply man?” You recognized the thick British accent that came from Four.

“Where the hell do you think all your ammunition came from?” You asked him, “Did you all really think One did this all on his own?” their silence answered your question. You scoffed “Tch, One couldn’t navigate the deep web if he ever looked at it, probably would end up buying shit from some cop,” You spat on the ground when you mentioned law enforcement.

One rolled his eyes before continuing with the meeting, “So, as we know we’ll be needing to split up for the next few assignments which, is why I called in Zero to so kindly help us.” He paused for a moment to allow everyone to soak in the information, “Zero, you and Four are going to be sent to gather first hand intel on our target, Vincent Beck.” He cleared his throat “Two and Three were caught on camera sneaking around and Seven, Five, and I have our own assignment.”

You furrowed your brows “I couldn’t erase their footage?” You asked, somewhat shocked at what you were hearing.

One let out another, long sigh, “No, you tried to get into their data base, and they put that virus on your computer, remember?”

You remembered now, that stupid virus that caused endless popups to show up, once one was closed two more would show up, “Right,” You mumbled, chewing on your bottom lip.

One tossed you and Four your files, “Read up on those and come up with a plan, at noon the plane takes off, but I want to debrief at 11.”

And with that you found yourself in Four’s trailer, sitting on his lumpy couch “I’ve never done this before.” You admitted, “I only know how to gather intel through the computer.”

Four’s knee bounced, you didn’t know if it was because he was anxious or because of the constant need to keep moving, “I haven’t either,” He tried to sound reassuring, “But I think it’ll be fine, One usually knows what he’s talking about.”

You pursed your lips and gave Four a skeptical look, “Does he though?” You weren’t very convinced.

The blonde-haired man shrugged, “Yeah, he’s kind of a goon sometimes but he usually figures it out.” It sounded like Four wasn’t very convinced either.

“Well, do you have a plan for this?” You asked leaning back against the uncomfortable and cheap couch.

Four frowned “Got nothin’, you?” You could already tell this was going to be a disaster.

You paged through the file, “Vincent Beck,” You hummed, tapping your finger on your chin in thought, “Well we can’t do a guns blazing approach, we both are better suited for sneaking around, plus the fighting is going to come later.” You mused aloud.

“We just have to talk to him and build some trust, right?” He asked, building off your thoughts.

You nodded your head, still intently reading the file, “This guy is a real sicko,” You said frowning, “Human trafficking? Who the fuck even does this shit?” the details you read caused your stomach to churn, “We have to get as much dirt on this asshole as possible, really gain his trust.”

Four cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably “What if… what if I posed as a potential client?” He swallowed thickly, you could tell that the details of Vincent Beck did not sit well with him either.

You stared at Four, a long hard gaze, “That could work, we can get a way in, gather information on his sales, inside people, so on and so forth.” You rubbed your face, exhausted from your early morning wakeup call, “What about me?” You asked.

Four gave you a cheeky grin, “You can be my assistant.”

You scoffed, dropping the file on the floor next to you “Your assistant? Absolutely not.” You said shaking your head, “I can be a business partner.” You answered, a small smile playing on your lips.

Four rolled his eyes, “You’re a computer nerd, you don’t know about business.” He retorted.

“Yeah, and you’re a thief, what do you know about running a business?”

Four clutched his chest feigning hurt feelings “I’m hurt, truly,” He responded, “Running around with a band of thieves has a lot of business tactics behind it, plus, I know how to talk with other criminals.”

You crossed your arms over your chest “Know how to talk to criminals,” You scoffed “I talk to criminals every day-”

“Yeah- through a computer” Four scoffed right back at you.

“Wow looks like you two are getting along well.” You turned to see that One had let himself into the trailer.

“We’re getting along just fine.” You snapped at One.

“That’s why the two of you are screaming at each other like that, right?” the sarcasm was dripping from his voice, “Anyways, what’s the plan?”

Four leaned forward, anxious to share the idea he came up with “Okay so hear me out, we just need to get close to this guy and gather intel, no actual fighting right? So,” He pauses for what you can only assume is for dramatic effect, “What if I pose as a client, and Zero is my assistant?”

You shook your head “No, I already said no to the assistant.” you quickly said.

One tapped his chin with his index finger, “What if you posed as his girlfriend?” he suddenly said, going along with the idea.

If you would have had a drink in your mouth, you would have spit it out right then and there “Girlfriend?” You almost couldn’t believe the words as they left your mouth, you shook your head “No, I’m not doing that either.”

One stared at you “Do you have a better idea?” He challenged, “And I don’t want to hear business partner, what are you going to buy for everyone in his company? No, Four is going to go in there and say he was referred by one of his previous clients and you are going to pose as his girlfriend.” You moved to argue him, but One put his hand up “Nope, no questions that’s it. Wheels are up in an hour.” He stood up and moved to leave the trailer but stopped “Do the two of you have anything other than sweatpants to wear? You’re going to want to pose as someone with money to make it appealing.”

You sheepishly averted your gaze and Four let out a soft ‘uhhh’ which proved that the two of you really had nothing other than athleisure in your closet, “Fucks sake,” One said shaking his head, “Buy yourself some real clothes when you land so you at least look the part. Zero, you can figure the money out, I know you’ve been sifting through my accounts.”

You scratched the back of your neck and let out a small laugh, have you been slowly taking a bit of money out from One’s bank account? Yeah. But did you care? Nah, he was literally a billionaire and constantly had money flowing in from stocks and other investments.

Your plane ride was short, but most of it was spent establishing your fake relationship with Four while Five slept and Seven and One piloted the plane, “What are our names going to be?” Four asked, “I was thinking could be Jason, or a Roger, or something like that.”

You let out a sigh, you could tell this was going to be a long mission, “Why can’t we just use our actual names, no one knows that we’re still alive and we can just make up last names.”

“Wouldn’t it be fun though-”

“No,” You sharply interjected, “I think that it would be a lot easier to remember our own names since we have a lot of other details we need to remember, like how long have we been together?”

Four ran a hand through his neatly coifed hair, “What about a year and a couple months, you know couples always track little stuff like that.”

“A year and three months?” You asked, he nodded, you checked that off your list and moved onto the next thing, “Okay what about how we met?”

“Childhood friends?” Four suggested.

You shook your head, “No, I’m too lazy to remember all that info, plus we are from two different countries.”

He nodded his head, “Right,” He said, feeling slightly stupid, “What about a business conference?”

You quirked your brow, this actually sounded like a good idea, “Okay, we can meet at a business conference, you know grabbed a few drinks then the rest is history kind of a deal?” a thought popped into your brain, “Oh!” You said, “We need to lay down some ground rules.”

“Rules?” Four asked quirking his eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, rules, you know so we don’t weird the other person out.” You tried to reason, Four’s mouth made an ‘o’ and he nodded, urging you to continue “Number one, no PDA.”

Four rolled his eyes, “We’re supposed to be fake dating, we have to at least make it convincing.”

You let out a sigh, “Fine, no graphic PDA then.” He nodded in agreement, “Number two, no parading around with other people, this has to be convincing” You paused and waited for Four to interject, when he didn’t you continued “And three, stick to the story, no changing it up or adding onto it without telling the other one.”

“That’s it? Only three rules?” Four questioned, you nodded your head “Sounds simple enough.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before you glanced over at Four, feeling his eyes on you and caught the surprisingly charming smile he shot in your direction, “How about what I do for work? Can I say I’m inheriting my father’s business?”

You shrugged your head “Yeah, sure, just make sure it’s something you can actually talk about. Rich assholes love talking about what made them rich.”

“Yeah, any opportunity One has to brag, he leaps at it.” Four said laughing, you couldn’t help but join in.

The plane landed and after a short drive you found yourself in LA on a ritzy road with expensive shops. You felt out of place in your stained sweatshirt and beat up shoes, but who was going to stop you from entering with a platinum credit card?

After what seemed like hours’ worth of pointless shopping you and Four finally had a sufficient enough wardrobe gathered up to pass as wealthy couple and were able to check into your ritzy hotel. You and Four made your way up to the hotel room, floor 27 out of 35, the view of the city was absolutely breath taking. You had honestly never seen anything quite like it, “Wow,” You gasped dropping your many bags onto the floor and walking towards the large window that looked over West Hollywood.

The skyline was a mix of pastel pink and orange that had the dark shadows of tall buildings cutting jagged and rectangular shapes out of it, it looked as though it was something straight out of a magazine.

You’d also never been in a nicer hotel, it was large and spacious with a kitchenette, and one large bed covered in white sheets. You felt like there was a rock in your stomach “Why is there one bed?” You asked, furrowing your brow.

Four shrugged “One made the reservation, not me.” He said throwing his duffle bag down on the left side of the right side of the bed, opposite the window, “Guess it’s to seem more realistic? If the room gets searched, they won’t have to wonder why we use separate beds.” That was a far-fetched idea and part of you knew it was just One fucking with the two of you, “Don’t worry, I don’t snore.” Four joked, shooting you a cheeky winking at you.

You looked at him, slightly taken back by his blatant flirting, it caused your stomach to clench “Right, well,” You cleared your throat “I hope you’re not a blanket hog either.”

You sat on the bed, your laptop open and on your lap. It wasn’t the most ideal position, but you had to make do with what you had. Your fingers flew across your keyboard, satisfying clacks filling the large hotel room while you gathered information on Beck’s previous clientele. You turned towards Four who was mindlessly scrolling through his phone, “So for tomorrow, Beck is going to be at a vineyard for a tasting, that is where you’re going to approach him.” You said looking at Four to make sure he was paying attention. He wasn’t. You reached over, lightly kicking him and grabbing your attention, “Did you hear me?” You chastised.

Four jumped and sheepishly looked at you, “Yeah, I did, tomorrow we’re going to a vineyard and I’m going to talk to Beck.” He repeated looking at you and setting his phone on his chest.

You nodded, relieved that he was actually listening to you, “Good,” You said exhaling lightly “So, your referral is going to be this guy,” You said turning your screen towards Four, he leaned in and nodded his head “But what Beck doesn’t know is that Mr. Harrison is in prison and unable to answer any calls he may have regarding the validity of your referral.” You paused, giving the blond haired man a moment to soak in the information before you continued, “So, what you’re going to do is you’re going to introduce yourself, make some small talk, and then Segway to talk about your business associate Mr. Harrison. Mention something along the lines of special products and how high quality and reliable Beck’s side business is, say whatever you have to say to butter him up.”

“So I just need to kiss his ass?” Four asked for clarification.

You nodded your head, “Exactly, and for good measure we’re going to bring a bag of cash that I’ll be carrying.”

Four hummed, “Clever plan,” He complimented, you felt your face heating up, “You sure this is your first time in the field?” He gave you a skeptical glance before settling beneath the sheets and reaching to turn off his bedside lamp.

You shut your laptop, “Yeah, I just sit back at base most of the time, One didn’t even take me along to Italy,” You said and leaned over, putting it on the floor.

“You’ve been with us since Italy?” Disbelief filled Four’s voice.

“Yeah, I helped One track all of you down, he might be good with magnets but gathering info isn’t really his forte.” You said and sat up, shifting your pillows around before you laid back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin and burrowing in, “We better get some sleep, big day tomorrow.”

Four rolled onto his side, “Right, well, night.” He mumbled.

----

Your sleep was restless because of you nerves, you kept tossing and turning, sighing when the sheets got tangled in your feet until Four finally said something, “Stop moving, for the love of god.” He mumbled against his pillow, not bothering to even open an eye to look at you.

“Sorry,” You whispered, “I just can’t sleep.” You said smoothing your hands over the blankets that covered your chest.

Four let out a long, deep sigh, “Well try,” He was obviously someone who valued sleep and did not take kindly to be woken up.

When you finally awoke in the morning you stretched, feeling your back cracking as you groaned “Fuck,” You sighed, sitting up and looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings, right, you were on a mission. Four walked out of the bathroom, his hair still wet and messily towel dried, and wearing a white tee-shirt and boxer briefs.

You felt heat creeping up your neck and flushing your face at the sight, he turned around, feeling your eyes staring holes into him “Morning,” He greeted.

“Morning.” You answered back.

Four rummaged through the bags of clothes you bought yesterday, frowning “What do you even wear to a vineyard party?” He asked tossing several shirts aside.

You pursed your lips “A well-tailored suit?” You suggested, pulling the blankets back and grabbing your own things before heading to the bathroom, “You done in here?” You asked poking your head out the bathroom door.

Four looked up at you, still frustrated over his outfit of choice and nodded “Yeah, ‘m finished.” He said turning his attention back to the bags.

The hot water from the shower soothed your stiff shoulders and the steam filled your nostrils, you let out a soft sigh slicking your hair from your face and scrubbed your hair and body, freeing it of the filth that had built up from your travels. Your shower seemed to put the nerves you held over the meeting today at ease even if it was only temporary.

When you walked out of the bathroom, dressed and almost ready to go your gaze caught Four, “You- you clean up nicely.” You complimented.

It was true, he did clean up nicely. His hair was neatly slicked back and the buttons on his crisp white button down were taut against his fit chest, threatening to give way if he moved just right. His collar was upturned and a tie loosely hung around his neck. He turned, drinking in your figure a ghost of a smirk playing on his face “So do you,” He said casually struggling with his tie.

“Need help?” You asked, walking towards him your hands reaching for the tie as you closed the gap. You were close to him, nearly chest to chest and could smell the cologne he had bought the other day. You fiddled with his tie, tying it properly and tightening it comfortably against his neck, “There,” you said placing a lingering touch against his chest.

The two of you stood for a moment, staring at each other before you forced yourself to be the first one to pull away, quickly grabbing your purse and slipping your shoes on. Your throat felt tight, you needed to get some fresh air quickly before you went mad.

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