#read the warnings before going ahead pls

[sundives]

Anti-hero ✶ sjy.

Pierced through the heart, but never killed.

Summary: Jake Sim has gained his status as Decelis University's "golden boy." Intelligent, a good track of extracurriculars and organization, and did I mention good-looking? He's the front-runner to become the batch's valedictorian, and everything seems to be perfect in that way.

"You need to get laid," his roommates pointed out one day, ruining his perfectly planned college life. Thinking that his roommates were just looking out for him, Jake found himself in a world that he seems to be unfamiliar with — having a fuck buddy, and that's with a little help from you, Decelis University's "golden girl."

✰ Song Inspiration: Anti-hero by Taylor Swift, Strong Girl by Niki, The Bolter by Taylor Swift (trust me, there’s a reason why this is my song inspo.)

✰ Word Count: 26.5k (damn.)

✰ Tags: Fuck buddies to lovers, no strings attached, plot with porn, a bit of fluff and angst, some hurt/comfort, college au, scandals and rumors, Jake’s POV (but there’s some POV switching somewhere), Jake Sim is a T, (he’s so serious with everything and it’s fucking hot tbh) reader has imposter syndrome, (actually reader is also a T), they have nicknames for each other, mentions of enhypen members, OC characters. Huh Yunjin and oc character as Jake’s roommate.

✰ CW: smut, plot with porn, sub! reader, dom! jake, BIG DICK JAKE RAHHHHHH, consensual noncon (proceed with caution.) choking, oral (m receiving) public sex, shower sex, car sex, praise, kinda dirty talk, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex (pls don’t do this), use of condom…once, creampies, aftercare, cockwarming, just filthy smut, they’re so chaotic during sex.

✰ Asul’s note: Jake’s story is here! I was so in love with his character in My Kink Is Karma, and here we are now. I've tried hard with this plot and is a bit unsatisfied so I hope you'll love his story. Warning but proceed with caution since there’s a part that explicitly shows consensual noncon. Read with caution. But shitty smut ahead since I gave up detailing it midway.

Also if you have read Heeseung and Jay’s story, (If you haven’t you can check their story!) Their gfs are also the reader, but I gave them names here in Jake’s story because they have a lot of cameos in this fic. (They’re still considered as y/n in their own story.) Yeah, kinda confusing start because this wasn’t really supposed to be a series from the start, but here we are! The fourth installment of Arcanum series! Enjoy reading! :D

You can check the other member's stories here: Jay | Sunghoon | Heeseung

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @chuuyaobsessed @dearestdreamies @jakessrealwife @heeseungsgf26 @kamiliora @st4rg1rlies @fancypeacepersona @k1ttyjwon @yazmike @dulcetnostalgia

-

The last semester of the year had arrived. The air in Decelis falls coolly as spring season is about to arrive, mixing with the remnants of the cold winter, the university welcomed the students for the second semester of the academic year. 

Wearing their jackets and coats to their first day of class, Decelis University became warm as noise filled the campus. Students meeting their friends, teachers smiling as they greet their students welcome back, and couples holding hands like they’re in their own world. 

At one of the gates of Decelis, three students ran their way inside the campus, bright laughter escaping their lips as they stopped midway to catch their breath, not even caring for the students they halted on the walkway.

“Text us if you’re done okay?” Yunjin said, patting Jake’s shoulders. “We’ll be going now!”

“Bye guys,” Jake hugs his roommates before he turns around to walk towards an opposite direction — towards his department building. 

Clean and ironed uniform, his school id hung loosely around his uniform’s collar along with his neat tie which Jake, himself tied for a good minute. His square, black-rimmed glasses rested idly on his buttoned nose that complimented his overall visual. With the way he walked, his short black hair neat and proper, and how casual his smile was, it wasn’t hard for students to turn their head towards him. 

Sim Jaeyun or Jake Sim for others, is Decelis University’s “Golden Boy.” The top student of the engineering department, president of the student aid organization, a member of Decelis physics club, former soccer player — the list goes on.

No one can top his intelligence and achievements. Records full of 1 and a good moral track. He is considered as a well-disciplined student, that even the teachers love him because he’s not some top student who befriends teachers for the sake of grades. Jake was naturally intelligent and diligent in his studies. Not to mention, he has a warm aura around him, although Jake always wears a small smile or neutral expression, he is considered approachable among his peers. 

As he entered the classroom, eyes darted to him. Smile and warm greetings which he only reciprocated before sitting on the first row near the entrance. His usual seat wherein it’s enough for him to sprint out the moment the bell rings. 

With the last semester of their college life starting, professors are preparing them for all the possibilities — Latin honors, failed subjects due to unreasonable reasons, even suspension, anything that may happen in the span of five months. Jake could only listen to their professor, who also just happens to be the Dean of their department, explain everything that they should look forward to for their last days in college.

Jake, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be reacting largely compared to his classmates. His mind is thinking of his post-graduation plans — have a one-week beach trip with his friends. Go home to Australia for a break, then return to the city to review and take the board exam to get his engineering license. Get a job with a high-paying salary, and find a girlfriend somewhere there if he has time. All the usual shit that he had planned ever since he was a freshman. 

Jake has always been a planner. His perfect college life was curated based on his schedule and time, and so far, everything is coming into pieces. All he need was to not fuck-up his presidency term, attain latin honors, and follow his plan without any distractions or new ventures.

“We’re rooting for you Jake,” their department dean laughs. A bright smile was only Jake could give as the old man pats his back. “No one can top your excellence, not only in our department, but the whole university.”

“Thank you for the kind words sir,” Jake answered, having heard that since last year. 

“That valedictorian is for you, and I’m going to use all my powers to make sure that it’ll be yours,” with a short pat on his back, Jake watched as the Department Dean walked away. His smile immediately turns into a thin line as he returns back to his classroom.

Jake Sim never planned to become the valedictorian of their batch — nor did he work hard to become Decelis’ “Golden Boy.” It just so happens that he has a lot of extracurriculars, is smart, and probably has a good personality, hence, giving him that unofficial title. There were a lot of contenders for that title, that’s why Jake wondered why it was given to him. Maybe it just happens that everyone fawns over him. 

He didn’t mind the attention, but it did place a lot of pressure on him. It meant that everyone is watching every move he makes, and he knows being known meant one thing — one wrong move may cause your entire downfall. But it’s not like he’s going to do some rash actions, Jake knows he’s not stupid to put himself in trouble. 

After class, Jake finds himself in the club room of the student aid organization, which is just an information and help center for students and incoming students, except it’s being led by students. Jake volunteered to become part of it since it helped him tremendously when he was just a lost, foreign student back in his freshman year — never would he think that he’ll end up as its president. 

But it feels nice helping other students, everyone in the organization is a helping hand, and the overall vibe was healthy and light. That’s why instead of stressing himself with the grievances, Jake finds joy in the organization. 

As he opened the door, the place was a bit crowded. Some students need some help while his staff are busy helping them. Jake greets them warmly, asking if there’s any problem and so far, everything’s good. 

Jake sat by the table beside Jiwon, who’s the executive assistant of his team. A smile greeted him as he placed his bag down. 

“Most of them are just problems regarding enrollment and transfers, you know, the usual problem we encounter during the first few weeks of the sem,” the girl explained as soon as Jake sat on the table. Having worked together since freshman, they’ve memorized each other that Jiwon knew what to do without Jake giving her instruction.

“They’re fewer than last sem, thank god because last sem was stressful,” Jake muttered which only left a chuckle on Jiwon’s lips. 

“Well, we got new students last semester, that’s why it was stressful,” Jiwon replied. “Oh by the way, I’ll be clocking out around four-thirty.”

“Let me guess, you have a date with Heeseung?” Jake pointed out, and only a blush on the cheeks was her answer. “You know, you didn’t have to tell me all of this.”

“I have to, what if you keep looking for me!? You can barely function without me.” the girl teased making Jake smile. He knows himself that he can't function without his assistant.

“Shut up, I can handle all of this, go have fun with your date.”

Work continued until one by one, his staff told him that they’ll be going now. Same excuse from them — dates, hanging out with friends, even family events, which Jake doesn’t mind. He knows that the organization shouldn’t be their top priority. It’s just an extracurricular for extra credits and something that you can put in your work resume. 

Jake remained alone inside the club room. The soft lofi music coming from his laptop serves as a noise while he sorts the reports. The sun is about to set and he’s on the last grievance that they received today. After this, he’ll be meeting his roommates by the Pho stall for dinner. 

Jake looks towards the window, watching the campus life unfold in front of him. He sees a group of friends laughing with each other, some are by the benches eating some snacks. He watches as teachers run their way towards their next class, while some student couples are having too much display of affection. A bitter smile formed on his lips as he realized that he’s alone inside the club room.

Will his remaining months in Decelis be like this? Jake feels like his college life is missing something. Is it the thrill? The fun? But he has friends though. They go out and drink during their free time. He parties when he can. That’s the thrill right? Jake stopped his task, deeply pondering on his thoughts.

“And it irritates me,” Jake opened up. 

The coffee table is filled with opened bags of chips. Empty bottles of soju scattered on the floor, while cans of beer remained on the table. On the couch sat Yunjin, Aera, and Jake who are all huddled up, alcohol on their system.

“So let me get this straight,” Yunjin started, sitting upwards to glance at Jake. “You, Mr. Decelis University’s Golden Boy, is lacking something? Dude you’ve got it all, what else is missing!?”

“I don’t know either! That’s why I’m telling you guys this!” Jake frustratedly shouted.

Aera laughs loudly, before clapping her hands as she points at Jake. “I know what it is!”

“That sounds like a bad idea.” Jake commented.

“You need to get laid!” Aera delightedly announced.

Jake cringed, “Yeah, bad idea.”

“No it’s not! You probably have a lot of pent-up frustrations in your body! Jake, when was the last time you even jerked off?” Aera boldly asked, Jake scrunches his nose out of disgust while Yunjin laughs out loud. 

“We’re absolutely not going to talk about that.” he takes a chug on his beer while Aera rolls her eyes. 

“Come on, it’s scientifically proven that having orgasms can release serotonin or whatever happy hormones we have, but you get my point!”

Aera continued laughing, while Yunjin and Jake only remained quiet, convincing themselves that their roommate is so drunk that she started to blurt random stuff. 

“She’s just telling that because she has a boyfriend now,” Jake explained, before taking a few chips. 

“Well she’s not wrong,” Yunjin asked, making Jake side-eye her. “Having sex can be a form of stress reliever. I bet that you have a lot of stress in your body that parties and alcohol cannot relieve.”

“And you guys think that sex is the answer?”

“What else is the answer? You used to love sleeping around back when we were freshmen, you were so carefree back then and now, you look…so pent-up Jake. I know that you have a lot on your sleeve right now, but that’s probably why you don’t notice that you’re pent-up. You need to loosen up! Find romance and pleasure!” Aera spoke enthusiastically. 

“I am not getting myself a girlfriend during the last semester of my college, do you know that college couples tend to break up after graduation?” Jake stated.

“And I hope that doesn’t happen to me and Jay, but Jake, you don’t need a girlfriend, maybe you just need someone who you only exclusively hookup with.” Aera rebutted.

“Like a fuck buddy?” Yunjin asked.

“Yeah, a fuck buddy! There’s nothing wrong with it, you have a fuck buddy Yunjin right?” Aera pointed out. 

“Oh right, I can vouch for that. Remember Chaewon? Yeah, we were fuck buddies since sophomore.” Yunjin casually shared, making Jake glance at her, surprised. 

“Up until now? I thought you two were together?” and that sentence made Yunjin laugh.

“We’re not. It’s a no-string attached agreement. We only meet each other to have sex, that’s the agreement! No dates, no emotional attachment. Just sex.” Yunjin explained. 

Jake becomes quiet for a moment. His roommates made some points. Maybe he does need to get laid, or have sex, or maybe find a fuck buddy who can relief all his stress. Seeing that it doesn’t affect Yunjin at all with her long-time fuck buddy, maybe it can be applied to him too. 

He’s not sure if it’ll work, but there’s no harm in trying, right? His roommates may be chaotic most of the time, but they know him from some angles that he doesn’t notice. 

“So, how do I even find that?” Jake asked, making his roommates freeze.

“Wait, you’re seriously going to do it?” Yunjin asked, appalled.

Jake shrugs, “well, if yours works, maybe it’ll work for me? I hope so?”

“Just go to a dating app, a lot of students use that — wait, let’s set it up for you.” Yunjin suggested, and the next thing they knew, they installed a popular dating app called Blind. Both roommates helped in creating Jake’s profile, something that will make him look decent, not just some random fuckboy. 

“Holy shit, this is so exciting! You’re finally getting some action Jake Sim!” Aera excitingly shouts, shaking Jake’s shoulder which only made the three of them laugh.

-

Jake stared at a profile of a girl. She’s fine, pretty, and shorter than him. She’s not from Decelis but she’s alright. He wondered if he should swipe left or right for a minute before swiping to the left. 

He found it impressive how Blind can show him preferences, starting from their height up to their intentions on the app. Yunjin wrote his profile as someone who’s looking for something casual, stating that if he placed that if he’s there for a hookup, he’ll end up looking like a horndog — which he wasn’t. 

Jake’s been in the app since last night. Yunjin helped him picked some girls along with Aera, and one thing he learned was that it was hard to find the right girl that he could ask to be his fuck buddy. He had matched with some other girls, took the courage to flirt (though most of the time Yunjin was the one who’s writing the message,) but it seems like it’s not working on his side.

“Hey pres!” a feminine voice greets, startling Jake who tightly grips on his phone.

Jake immediately closed his phone before looking up to see you standing there in front of him. You have a wide smile on your face. Makeup neat with an excessive amount of blush but it suits your round cheeks. Your black shoulder bag hangs on your left shoulder along with the trinkets and keychains on its handle.

If Jake Sim was Decelis University’s Golden Boy, you’re the female version of him — the Golden Girl. A senior communications student, you’re one of the top students of your department. You have a bright and friendly aura around you. During sophomore year, you welcomed students back when you were a radio jock in Decelis 1009 radio station which also led you to opportunities to host a lot of school events.

You’re also part of the student aid, a huge helping hand to other students that you’ve become its vice president this term. Last year, you were hailed as Decelis University’s “Selene.” which was a pageant to become Decelis University’s official student model and image. With your beauty and brains, along with your popularity, you’ve won the heart of every student and staff in the university. Which also hailed you the golden title. 

Although you and Jake hold the title, the two of you were never linked with each other. Both living in two different worlds, you two were only acquainted due to the student aid organization. Jake finds you nice, a bit talkative, but he sees that you have a lot of confidence and boldness in you. 

“You weren’t here yesterday,” Jake said sternly.

“I did remember sending you a message that I had a short interview at 1009 radio station,” you grinned before glancing at his phone. “You seem to be busy with something.”

“It’s nothing.” Jake answered immediately.

You raised an eyebrow, “Nothing really? Scrolling through a dating app during class hours? That’s so not you pres.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “How did you —”

“Funny, at first thought, someone is impersonating you but it really is you,” you said, hands resting on your hips as you looked at Jake teasingly. 

“What?” the boy asked, surprised.

You let out a small laugh before grabbing your phone. You opened your phone and showed Jake its screen — a screenshot of his Blind profile. You noticed how his eyes widened further, but as he glanced at you, his expression became neutral once again. 

“You’re there too?” Jake blurted out, and you amusingly tilted your head. 

“Why wouldn’t I be there? I use it when I’m bored and pent-up, it’s a place for hook-ups, not all are looking for serious relationships here.”

“What makes you think I’m looking for a serious relationship in Blind?” Jake rebutted. 

Now, it was your turn to be surprised. “You weren’t?”

Jake stares at you for a minute. He wonders if it’s worth sharing to someone he’s not that close to, but you seem to be open to this topic so he only clicks his tongue as he looks at his phone. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but my friends, they convinced me that I need to get laid because I’m all stressed and they think sex is the solution.”

You stifled a laugh, but Jake’s expression never faltered, so you held yourself back but your grin was too obvious. “And you believed them?” 

“Never know until proven true, so yeah, here I am scrolling through hundreds of profiles until I find a decent girl who’s I don’t know, won’t be intimidated to have sex with me,” Jake casually explained. 

“I can do it for you.” you casually replied.

That’s when Jake glances back at you, who blinked at him innocently. He was waiting for you to say that you were joking, but you only smiled at him. 

“I’m not kidding pres, instead of finding another stranger who you have to make connections with, why don’t you go with someone who, let’s just say, is already acquainted with you?”

You made good points with your reason. The first problem Jake faced was finding a decent girl who he won’t be awkward with. Sex is still intimacy, and knowing that it’s been so long since he even touched a girl, he knows that this is a challenge to him. 

With you proposing to him, he quickly thought about it for a minute. You, who is ironically the girl version of him, is offering to be his fuck buddy. You seem to be chill about this one, and it did surprise him that you’re into this kind of setup. 

Noticing that the atmosphere has becoming too quiet, you only cleared your throat before saying, “I’ll give you time pres, but my offer still stands —”

“Wait,” Jake halted you immediately. “Sorry, I’m just really new to this kind of setup. This doesn’t make you uncomfy? Especially when we’re orgmates too.”

“Whatever happens inside the room, remains in the room. That’s my rule.” you smiled. “We can talk more about our setup of course, we’re not only complying with my rules, you should set boundaries too.”

“Okay,” Jake breathes, nodding as it seems like he’s set with having you as his fuck buddy. “How soon should we…you know?”

But you only laughed, “so you’re taking my offer huh?”

“This is better than finding some girls on Blind.” Jake reasoned out. “Let’s talk more tonight? How’s that sound?”

“Already? I don’t mind, if you’re already down to fuck, but you need to buy condoms for us,” you winked. “We got to stay safe pres.”

Jake would never have thought that conversation would lead him to cleaning their dorm. Their floor has always been clean since the three of them are clean freaks, but Jake has to make sure that it’s squeaky clean before you arrive. 

It was his first time clocking out of the organization on time too. His roommates coming home to him doing a last minute vacuuming on the floor. That’s when they realized what the hell was going on with their only male roommate. 

“I can’t believe that we were just talking about it last night and you already found one,” Aera spoke up while tying her shoes. 

“And here you are, kicking us out because your fuck buddy is coming,” Yunjin fakingly sobs.

To ease your first meeting, Jake bribed his roommates to have the flat all by himself for that night, (and fortunately, they agreed, knowing that they advised him to do so in the first place.) Jake knows where the two will end up staying the night, so it’s still a win for the three of them. 

“I’ll treat you guys with ice cream tomorrow, don't worry,” Jake compensated, sitting on the couch as he had changed into a shirt and sweatpants. His legs thumping nervously as he glanced at the clock. It’s almost 7:30 in the evening, which was your agreed time. 

And before his roommates could go, a ring on the doorbell stopped the three of them. Aera, who’s just near the door, opens it, surprising you who’s standing in front of the door. 

“Y/n hi!” Aera brightly greeted, having familiar with your face, before turning back at Jake, mouthing “what the fuck!?” 

Yunjin stood there frozen, surprised that Jake’s fuck buddy is none other than Decelis’ golden girl, talking about small world. It really has to be you out of the thousands of available girls in the city. She gasps in disbelief while Jake stood up from his seat. 

“Come in,” Jake gestured. Aera opens the door wider for you to step inside, both his female roommate stared at you making you wary. It didn’t cross your mind that Jake had female roommates, and that made you somehow confused with your setup with him. 

“Hi I’m Yunjin, and this is Aera, we’re Jake’s roommates, but don’t worry! We’ll be going out, you have the place all by yourself,” Yunjin greeted all of the sudden, and you felt embarrassed intruding on their place just because you can’t offer yours. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry for intruding too,” you immediately apologized but Yunjin only smiled as she and Aera grabbed their bags. 

“No worries for us! It’s been a while since Jake brought a girl to our place, so enjoy! We’ll see you guys at school!” Aera laughed, waving goodbye to the two of them before leaving the place. 

You stood there frozen before you turned around to see Jake groaning in disbelief. 

“So,” you cleared your throat. “Why didn’t you just ask them —”

“Aera is Jay’s girlfriend, and Yunjin’s a lesbian.” Jake quickly explained. 

“Oh.” you’re not familiar with most of the students in Decelis. But you did remember that there was gossip last semester that Arcanum’s Jay was dating someone, and turns out, it’s Jake’s roommate. While you do recognize Yunjin since she’s part of Decelis Theater. 

“They’re the ones who told me to get laid.” Jake added. “They’re also like sisters to me, that’s why.” 

Another “Oh” escapes your lips. You thought that it’s those male friends of Jake that convinced him to this setup. Now, you found yourself in a more awkward situation. 

“Do you want some ramen?”

A moment of silence hovered between the two of you before you spoke. “What?”

“You seem tense, have you eaten dinner yet?” he offered, sounding genuine with his words. 

“Really — I mean, ramen?” you laughed because of his words. Usually, your casual hookups is just you showing up to your hookup’s place, fuck, and then go home. The usual quickie or sex wherein both bodies do the work, while your mouth sucks their dick instead of talking to them. No string attached, only bodily pleasures, and it works all the time.

But then again, this is the first time you and Jake will be meeting. Plus, this isn’t just a hookup, this is a fuck buddy set-up — a temporary monogamous situation for you. So you agreed, and that’s why you found yourself by the kitchen, watching Jake grab a pack of Buldak Carbonara, with him sharing you a homemade recipe of his. 

“So, how about we talk about it?” Jake suggested as he waits for the noodles to cook. “How do we even do this? I’m sorry, I’m really new to this.”

You only smile at him. He still maintains his professional talking voice that he’s been using to everyone else. Your mind started to wonder what would his voice sound like in bed — would he be making sounds that’s far from the serious and stoic Jake Sim?

“It’s okay, I’m here to help you,” you assured. “Let’s start from the very start. Do you want this to be an exclusive thing? Just the two of us?”

Jake became quiet for a second, “I’m going to keep it exclusive for me but I don’t mind if you sleep with other guys.” 

“Okay, since you’re going to stay loyal, I’m going to stay loyal too,” you smiled, hoping that you’re not going to regret it. “This is a no-string attached set-up, we’ll only meet for sex, and it has to be mutually consented too, is that okay with you?”

Jake only nods, busying himself with his cooking. The smell of the buldak sauce steaming inside the kitchen. You stopped for a second because Jake hands you a bowl of his carbonara buldak risotto. Murmuring your thanks, you took a bite on it and had your eyes wide open. 

“This tastes good,” you shared, while Jake quietly smiles before eating his own food. 

“Oh by the way, we shouldn’t do things like this,” you added. 

“Why not?”

“Because this is too wholesome! We’re here to fuck, not act like lovers.” 

“Alright, what else?”

“Any kinks you have in your mind?”

Jake almost spat out his ramen. He looks at you who only gave him an innocent stare. 

“Why? If we’re going to fuck, then we should atleast make each other feel good!” you pointed out before a thought crosses your mind. “Oh my god don’t tell me you’re still a virgin?”

“No, I’m not,” Jake coughs. “I just forgot what I’m into.”

That’s when you let out another laugh. “Jake Sim you’re really something else. When was the last time you even had sex?”

Jake became quiet for a moment. “Uhm…summer before junior year.” he barely recalled it. It was just a drunken one night stand. On a three-day-and-two-night trip to the beach with his friends. He was drunk, flirted with a stranger, and had sex, and before the sun had risen, he left the hotel room. 

“Woah, that long huh?” you smiled. “You never thought of having a girlfriend?”

“It’s proven that college couples tend to break up after graduation,” Jake repeated. At the same time, Jake thinks that he couldn’t prioritize commitment when he has a lot of things to focus on. 

“Not now, but during that duration,” you pointed, and that question made Jake quiet. 

“I did like someone back in junior year,” he confessed. “But she — someone else got her first.”

“Do you still like her?”

“Of course not anymore,” Jake only smiled bitterly. Regrets rushing into his heart. “She’s my friend’s girlfriend — they got together last year coincidentally. From there, I threw away my feelings immediately.”

“She must be lucky that you like her.”

“I feel like she’s happier with my friend now.” 

Silence faltered inside the kitchen. You only stared at the half-full bowl before taking another bite. You couldn’t even think of another word to say. 

“What about you?” Jake asked, making you glance at him. “What about your kinks? Let’s not delve into our lovelife since we’re not here to act like lovers.”

A faint blush rushed on your cheeks, usually things like this will be discussed during sex, during the heat of the moment, so it felt weird saying it out of blue. “It’s embarrassing.”

“How can I make you feel good when I don’t know what you want?”

“Fine, I’m submissive. Use me however you want, rough that it’ll leave me limping. Choke me, that’ll make me cum, but don’t you ever use degrading words, that���ll make me cry.” 

“So, that means you’re into praise? Like good girl or something?”

You became quiet. Jake quickly observes how you stared at him, eyes wide. You can feel your heart beating fast, words stuck at your throat as Jake’s words keep replaying in your mind. 

“That fast? I’m surprised,” Jake teasingly said. “What else?” 

“Let’s talk about it the other time, but that summarizes what I want during sex,” you explained. 

Jake hums for a moment. “Alright. Then should we discuss our setup somewhere more, private?”

Your heart beats faster than before. You only nod as both you and Jake left the bowls on the sink, before following him towards his room. 

You’re used to a guy’s room. The smell, the mess, and probably unwashed sheets for weeks. You didn’t care about it during sex, but after sex? Those guys are getting blocked. Personal hygiene is your number one must, and if Jake Sim’s room is a mess, then he’ll just have to kiss this setup bye-bye. 

As Jake opens his room, you’re surprised to see a clean and neat room that smells like sandalwood and men’s perfume. His bed is neatly done, bedsheets in navy blue and white. Side table filled with nothing but a night lamp. On a corner is a pc set-up and a study table where his books are placed on a small shelf along with some pencil holder and his laptop. 

Of course this is Jake Sim that we’re talking about. He holds a good reputation in your university so he’s likely cleaner than the rest of the guys you’ve slept with before. 

Jake sits on the edge of the bed, watching you look around his room, probably amazed by it. Then, you turned around and smiled at him before sitting next to him. 

“So, anymore questions?” you asked. 

“You told me that you can’t offer your place, you live with your parents?” Jake asked. 

“Not my parents, but my older sister. It’s a one bed apartment room, that’s why I can’t offer mine. I don’t mind hotel rooms but I don’t do cheap ones Jake, so if you want it, we can do it here,” you explained, then another thought flew inside your mind. “Why? Do you like public sex or something?”

Jake only shakes his head. “I’m not going to throw my roommates everytime we do it, so being quiet is an option.”

You stared at his lips before glancing back at his stare, you shifted your body towards him, knees touching each other as you lean close to him. “Don’t worry, I can be quiet.” 

You two stare at each other for a minute. No one said a thing. You were waiting for him to say another word, while he only slowly observed you.

Then, Jake teasingly grins, which is a new, unfamiliar expression for you, “you seem eager to get fucked tonight.” 

“If you don’t want it, I don’t mind,” you smirked. “We can take things slow pres.”

That nickname. That damn nickname that always electrifies him. Jake’s ears deafened as the vixen smile on your lips widened. 

“I bet you want to call me other names,” Jake said, suddenly there’s a change in the atmosphere. You held your breath as his hands gently rested on your thighs, thumb caressing your bare skin while the smile on his lips became a smirk. 

“Pres? Sir? Daddy? While I call you a good girl as you take my dick inside your tiny little hole? You want that baby?” his deep, raspy voice sent chills through your spine. Your heart started beating fast, minding starting to float — wondering what it feels like to hear more of his heavent-sent voice praising you. 

But you didn’t want to back down that easily, so a scoff in disbelief was your answer.

“Maybe it’s you who wants to be called those names,” you spat back at him. Hands finding its way towards his jawline, your sharp, acrylic nails cupping his cheeks while Jake remains unfazed, his eyes shifted immediately to a bored one.

It’s dangerous. You’re convinced that Jake’s dangerous for you. He’s not rushing anything. Guys usually just throw you to bed and fuck you senselessly, while Jake only sat there, lazy eyes staring at you. Tempting and alluring like he’s teasing you to take the lead.

He doesn’t move. He’s patient with you, like he’s waiting for your next move. And it only leaves you impatient and wetter than before. You only glanced at his lips, luscious and thick, thumb grazing on its soft skin, cursing why Jake Sim has to be so perfect?

“You want it?” he whispered to you, voice crashing in you like a siren. 

“Please…” you only breathed, tone high-pitched almost on the edge of whining that Jake chuckled darkly because of it. 

A throb on your heart was all you felt as he crashed his lips on yours. Gently, he cups your face as he tilts his head, pressing his lips as it starts moving to get a taste of you. You kissed him back with much force, lips expertly responding to his kiss.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck before you moved to his lap, hips immediately moving against his thigh to feel him underneath, only for Jake to groan against your mouth. The sudden movement of your hips flinches him. 

Jake knows that it’s been a while since he had sex, he barely recalls when was the last time that he had masturbated. Due to his hectic schedule and tired body, it never crossed in his mind to pleasure himself. He’d rather sleep than rub it away.

Maybe his roommates were right, his pent-up frustration is just him being sexually frustrated. Maybe it’s the peer pressure too. While his peers are living their life in adventures and parties, his college life becomes too nerdy and academic-focused that it leaves him too serious to deal with emotional attachments like love or pleasure. 

But in Jake’s mind, what’s the point? Can he even have a girlfriend when he himself is too tired with his other priorities? Aera was right to advise that he just needs to get laid, at least with the no-strings attachment, he doesn’t have to deal with its aftermath. 

His hands find its way through your hair, brushing it softly until he tugs it out of nowhere, earning a moan from you. He pulls your face away from him — his stare at you menacing and that both knew that something awakened in Jake.

But it only made you needy, biting your lips before crashing your lips onto him, rough and aggressive which he reciprocated, hips bucking upwards to meet your clothed cunt. His tongue slipped out of his and slid its way inside yours, battling inside your mouth as whimpers escaped from you.

You pulled away from him. Eager for more, you could only tug his hair, staring at him darkly and boldly. “Don’t hold back on me,” you challenged. “I’m not fragile Jake Sim, let all your frustrations out on me.”

That was the trigger. The way you begged for him, and recalling all the kinks that you said to him. He found you not only bold but also a pleaser. — and that made him want you to writhe underneath his touch.

What is it like to have the golden girl on her knees and worship him? “Get on your knees,” Jake ordered. Almost throwing you away from his lap. You scurried your way down to the floor, knees touching the soft rug underneath as Jake stood up. Hands caressing your head as you look up at him, round sparkling eyes that’s ready to submit to him. 

“Show me how good you are at pleasing a guy.” Jake unties the drawstrings of his sweatpants, pulling it down until it hits the floor.

You only stared at the tent on his boxer, eyes filled with curiosity on his cock, making you glanced back at Jake. 

“Come on, show pres how good you are, vice,” he smirked, and the nickname only sent chills to your cunt. Never would you think he’ll give a good rebut with your nickname for him.

But you’re used to this. That’s why in one big tug, you pulled down his boxer, eyes wide at his hard length. Out of all the dicks you’ve seen, this might be the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s beautiful, looking straight out of a porn video. Its mushroom tip is enough to tear your pussy apart. You unknowingly let out a small mewl as you wrapped your hands around it, stroking it lightly before you sinked it inside your mouth.

You wasted no time. Licking all the length that your mouth could reach. Cheeks hollow as you suck it in and out before releasing it with a loud pop. strings of saliva connecting your mouth and its tip. You lightly stroke it, teasing it around your fingers as you squeeze its tip, feeling the way it twitches as you do the action. 

You looked up to Jake and saw how unamused he is. Like he’s not satisfied with it, so you slowly let out your tongue. Giving soft kitten licks around his cock without breaking eye contact with him. You can see how he’s holding back, so in one swift motion, you swallow his cock once again and start sucking it in a fast motion. 

In contrast, Jake is slowly losing his mind. His cock is has become sensitive, soft groans started escaping his lips as you continue bobbing your mouth in and out. It’s warm and tight, and he loved the way your tongue licked along your movement. 

He bucked his hips to meet your mouth, a whimper escaping your lips as he continued thrusting it, loving the way his tip hits the back of your throat. That’s when he decided to pull out of your mouth, dick twitching as you only had your brows furrowed. 

“What happened —” you weren’t able to finish your sentence when Jake pulled you towards the edge of the bed, your back hitting against it as Jake stood in front of you. Its erected cock just an inch away from your mouth. 

“Open your mouth, tongue out,” Jake ordered using his usual professional tone. You’re not going to deny that it just sent your cunt throbbing. As you opened your mouth with your tongue out he slammed his cock inside yours. The sudden action caused you to bump your head against the side of the bed. Jake holds his dick inside you for a few seconds, feeling it twitch as Jake groans in satisfaction. 

“Fuck —” Jake moans, finding hold on his bed as his hips started to fuck your throat roughly. His tip hitting the back of your throat that it’ll leave your voice hoarse tomorrow. His thrust was erratic, you’re slowly feeling yourself dizzy by the way his dick suffocated you.

Your head continued bumping against the bed and mattress while your hands could only grip against the rug as your legs started to writhe. Your pussy’s throbbing that it hurts, wanting to touch it but you’re patient as you let Jake use you first. 

A gagging whimper escapes your lips as Jake sheathes inside you once again, holding it for a few seconds before pulling out and thrusting inside you again. 

“Look at you good girl, taking my cock so well,” Jake smirked, his thrust has becoming sloppy as he can feel his dick twitching, readying himself to cum, he pounds into you relentlessly and he swore that he never felt this fucking good.

“Fuck, drink my cum, take it,” he breathlessly moans, thrusting a few times until he felt his orgasm crash. The feeling was so new that his loud groan echoed around the room. Jake grips on the sheets tightly as his stomach tightens, hips pushing forward to sandwich you between him and the side of the bed. You couldn’t escape, eyes rolling upwards as his cum spilled downwards your throat, forcing you to drink the bittersweet liquid. Choking as the mouthful of cum was too much that your eyes started to water while drool dripped out of your mouth. 

Jake pulls out his twitching cock, still hard and aching while you gasp for air. Slowly, you can feel his hands on your hair before he pulls your chin upwards to look at him. Smiling at you devilishly like he’s proud to see your messed-up face with drool and cum on your lips.

“You did good,” Jake mumbled and you could only whine from the praise. 

“Don’t worry pretty girl, you’ll get a reward from me,” and before you could say any word, Jake lifted you up to his bed. He cages you between his arms and glances at him.

His hands went tracing the outline of your body, towards your stomach until it reached the button of your shorts, but before he could even open it, you called him out, eyes darting at you immediately. 

“You’re not going to eat me,” you told him. “Nope, I don’t do that.”

Jake’s face distorted into a confused one. “You’ll let my dick inside your mouth but not the other way around?”

“I find it weird!” you reasoned out, before grabbing his hands. Seeing its long, slender fingers along with the pulsing veins brought an idea in you. “Look, it’s either you just drill your dick inside me or use your fingers, just not your mouth, I’m not going to let a man’s mouth near my private area.” 

Jake could only laugh in disbelief. Someday, he’ll get you to let him eat you out, but for now, he’ll just let his fingers do the work. 

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered, before turning around to place his glasses on his side table, taking off his shirt and kicking his sweatpants out of his ankles. 

Jake turns around to see you sprawled on the bed. He stopped for a second. God, you look like a goddess with your body, but what amazes Jake more is your confidence as you only gave him a seductive smile. Your nipples were already erect against your breasts, which Jake unconsciously grabs the left side, fondling with it as his thumb grazes on it, sending shivers to you.

Slowly, he pushes you down the mattress, sitting beside you as his hands trailed all over your body. Hitching your breath as you watched his gorgeous hands feather on your stomach and stop just right on your pussy. 

“Keep your legs open for me,” he ordered and you did so. Legs sprawled as his fingers slid on your core. A dark chuckle escaping his lips — “fuck, you’re soaking wet already, did you got wet sucking me of?”

“Yes,” you mewled. “Please Jake — need you.”

But Jake hushes you, slender fingers sliding up and down its lips. “Stay still for me or you won't get to cum.”

And a soft whine escapes your lips. “That’s not fair.” 

The next thing you knew, his free hand was around your neck, a moan escaping on your lips as his fingers dipped on the right place.

“Stay still.” he said with a serious tone and you could only whine as Jake rubs your clit in a circular motion. His hands dipped further on the side of your neck, strong arms keeping you still as you shut your eyes while his fingers do magic in pleasuring you. 

“Jake —” another moan escapes your lips as you feel him slide two fingers easily inside you. Immediately pumping in and out before pulling it out. Opening your eyes to see Jake licking your slick out of his lips, his eyes locked at you as he removed his fingers out of his mouth with a small pop.

“You taste fucking good and you’re not going to let me taste it?” he teased, you could only shake your head as answer and Jake understood it already — he’ll be patient, but for now, it’s all about pleasuring you. 

He places his fingers inside you again, making you arch your back as he slides his fingers in and out, scissoring your walls open making you moan as both hands are doing god’s work to make you feel good. You watched as his left hand remained in your neck, holding you down so that you won’t move, large hands and pink knuckles wrapped around you making you hold onto it. 

“You like my hand that much?” Jake laughs, and a breathy “yes” was all you could answer. 

A loud cry left escaped your lips as Jake inserted another finger inside your pussy. You never tried having three fingers shoved inside you and it only stretched you wider. His pace became faster as it began to pump in and out, curling at a spot that made you legs shake — that’s when Jake knew. He remained at his pace, abusing the spot as he heard your uneven breathing, feeling you writhe against his hold. 

“Need to stretch you wide baby,” Jake darkly taunted, leaning against your ears as he whispered. “Going to make sure your pretty pussy can take my whole cock.”

That took you to cum, legs shaking as his finger fastened its pace when he felt your pussy clamming. You cry out his name making him slam your head deeper on the mattress using his other hand, tightening his grip that the pleasure from both actions only made you moan mutedly. 

Jake removes both his hands from you, legs still shaking as you try to catch on your breath. You closed your eyes as you felt Jake’s large hands patting your hair as a form of comfort, he leaned and kissed your lips which you immediately reciprocated, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck while you two got lost in each other’s taste. 

“Fuck me please,” you whispered against your kisses, and you could only feel Jake smile before leaving another breathy kiss on you. He separates from you as you watch as Jake grabs something from his drawer, you leaned on to see him sheathe the condom on his shaft. 

He glances back at you, and your heart starts beating fast. Damn it. You curse internally. Wondering how the fuck Jake still looks so fucking handsome despite the disheveled hair and flushed face. You can’t help but rub your thighs together as your eyes remain at Jake. 

He’s handsome, smart, and serious. He respects you but at the same time complies with your kinks. Even his performance and dick exceeded your expectations. You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot when you offered him to be his fuck buddy. 

“What position do you want?” he asked.

“Missionary,” basic, but you wanted the guy to do all the work. Smiling back at him as you asked his preference. 

“I’m okay with any, let’s just go with yours,” Jake said, smiling before pulling your legs towards him. 

You only lay down as Jake stretches your legs open, resting it on his strong thighs as he kneels in front of you. His eyes staring at your wet pussy before he positions his cock on your entrance. You could only bite your lips as you watch his tip disappear inside your cunt. Feeling it stretch your walls, already clasping for more, making Jake groan. 

“Shit — you want my dick so bad?” 

“More — Jake, please,” you whined. 

Jake slides his dick inside you within a second, earning a sultry moan from you as this is the first time you ever felt so full. He started his pace fast immediately, both hands on your waist as he lifted you like a ragdoll. Pounding on your warm walls, moaning with the way your pussy clamps his cock. 

“Jake — ugh — rougher please —” you weren’t able to continue your words when Jake wraps his hands on your neck once again. Followed by a sharp thrust, Jake leans over you with a serious expression as his grip tightens, knocking you out of breath making both your hands grab onto it, trying to grasp for air but at the same time, your pussy tightens around his cock. 

“You’re going to take my cock however you like, got it?” he ordered and you could only cry as his thrust became rougher like you wanted it. Eyes rolling in pleasure as he continued to abuse your holes.

Jake’s thrust hits right where you want it, his moans dragging out of his lips as he shut his eyes harshly. The pleasure was becoming too intense for him, your walls were sucking him harshly, warm and soft against his hard length. He can feel stomach tightening, dick twitching as a sign that he’s going to cum. 

Jake choked on his breath as he continued pounding inside your pussy, his shaft sliding in and out as your cries became louder. If it wasn’t enough, Jake pushes you down the bed, fingers pressing hard on each side making you arch your back. He can feel your legs kicking its way out, your hands trying to remove his hand around your neck but he only tilts his head in amusement, hips never stopping its movement.

“Jake! Fuck! —” you started babbling incoherent words. Eyes wet with tears as you tried to get away from his grasp. 

“You’re gonna cum now?” Jake amused, using his free hand to circle his thumb on your clit, earning a loud cry from you. 

“Please — I want —”

“You can cum pretty girl,” he whispered darkly. “You did so good, so you deserve to cum.”

You let out a muted moan as you stop writhing from his touch but instead, you started shaking. Jake lets go of his hand from your neck and replaces it with his lips, leaving feathered kisses as he continues to thrust inside your tight pussy. 

“Jake hhhh — too much!” you pleaded, feeling sensitive from your orgasm.  

“Just wait alright? You’re a good girl, you can hold it for me right?” he convinced, and those words only went straight to your abused cunt, nodding as Jake thrusts became uneven. It didn’t take a while before he let out a pornographic moan as he cums inside the condom. 

Jake was catching his breath as he lay down beside you. The heated atmosphere was followed by a quiet yet awkward silence. The two of you only stared at the ceiling, energy dying down along with the tension around.

“Woah” he could only say, both of you letting out a small laugh after sinking in what just happened between the two of you. 

Your eyes are drilling holes on the ceiling as you feel satisfied yet wanting for more. The sex was intense. You loved the way his cock abused your hole but it felt like it wasn’t enough. 

“Jake —” you hesitated for a second, looking at him who immediately caught your words.

“You want another round?” he asked, almost smiling. 

“Please?” your eyes pleading innocently that it made Jake’s dick twitch. A sharp inhale escapes his lips as your hand reaches for his half-hard cock, stroking it lightly before pulling the soiled rubber away.

“Want you more,” you said softly like a kid asking for candy.

“Of course pretty girl,” a kiss on your temple was all you got before he reached his drawer once again — but his actions stopped when you pulled his arms. 

“I want it raw,” you said. “Want you to fill me. Please Jake, we’re safe. I’m on birth control.”

Jake felt like his ears deafened with his words. You look at him with the pout on your lips becoming visible as you continue to stroke his dick, palming his tip and squeezing it at every chance you can. 

“Fuck — you want it raw?” Jake asked in disbelief. 

You nodded feverishly. You never tried raw. Even though you’re using birth control, you still need to be extra careful, that’s why condom is a must when it comes to your hookups. 

But with Jake, something in you is asking to be impaled by him raw. You wanted his semen to fill you up full and warm. You want to feel his seeds inside you — like how it felt earlier on your mouth. 

It didn’t take a second for Jake to grab you by the waist and flip you. You had your stomach flat while Jake raises your hips, ass up in the air as his hands are on the curve of it. A sudden slap on your right cheek made you whine, and if it wasn’t enough — Jake shoved his dick inside your pussy without a warning. 

His hands gripped on your waist tightly, thrusting in and out harshly, watching as his dick disappeared inside your pussy while your ass bounced against his groin. Jake groans at the sight as your walls felt more heavenly without the condom. 

“Should’ve said earlier —” Jake grunts. “I’ll fill you full baby, you’re going to be a good girl and take all my cum right vice?” 

“Fuck —”

“Look how you’re sucking pres’ dick, you really fucking want this do you?” he pulls a fistful of your hair making you whine in pleasure. 

“Yes! God! fill me up pres!” you shouted loudly. You felt another slap on your ass as Jake continued drilling his dick inside you. Hitting your deepest part that no one had ever reached. 

“Take it like the good girl you are.”

The room smelled like sex and sweat. Bodies slapping together echoed around the room along with each other’s moans and whimpers. The continuous action caused the bed to creak, headboard slapping against the wall, but both of you were too lost in the pleasure to care. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Jake spoke, hand letting go of your hair making you fall flat on the pillow. 

Your only response was a cry, before feeling your stomach coil again. Cumming unannounced with continuous, unstable whimpers followed by a moan. Hands shaking as it grips on the sheets so tight that your knuckles are turning red. 

Jake came shortly after, letting out a loud groan as his hold on your waist tightened, fingers pressing on the skin making you whine in pain. His warm seeds started to fill your insides, making you whine loudly as he dumped every last bit of his semen inside you. Thrusting sloppily until his energy is all drained-up. 

Jake pulls out, cock dirtied with both of your cum, he could only stare at your hole as his cum dripped out of it. Unconsciously gathering it using his fingers before shoving it inside your pussy once again, a soft whimper escaping from you before he pumps in and out until he is fully satisfied with it. 

You shifted to lay down on your bed, which Jake followed, brushing the sweaty strands on your forehead. “You did good.” he whispered to you, hands massaging your legs and knees while you closed your eyes to his relaxing touch. 

“I should go,” you said while your eyes remained closed. 

“Wait, clean up first —”

“It’s okay, I can handle it myself,” you insisted. That’s when you sat up on his bed before looking at him. “No aftercares okay? It’s too wholesome for me.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, “it’s not wholesome, it’s decency. I’m not going to let you go home with my cum dripping inside you.”

“What if I want that?” you teased, but Jake only chuckled on your words before scooping you up, startling you that you could only hold on his shoulders. 

The two of you reach their bathroom, Jake makes you sit on the toilet while he grabs a small towel, wetting it before handing it to you. “If you don’t want me to do it, it’s okay. We did it raw, I don’t want to risk you getting sick after sex, you need to pee too. I’ll be outside to get your clothes.” 

You only accepted the towel while he left you there, closing the bathroom door. Staring at the towel, you could only quip a small smile. Jake never failed to surprise you with his gestures, but then again, what else would you expect from the golden boy? He seems like he has everything sorted in his life. 

After you wipe yourself clean, you hear a knock on the door, revealing Jake who offers you your clothes again. You only smile at him, muttering your thanks as you wore your clothes. 

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Jake fully-clothed in the living room, he glanced at you which made you walk towards him. 

“So,” you cleared your throat. “I guess our setup’s okay — you’re okay with it? Because I’m totally okay with having us as fuck buddies.” 

“If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay with it too,” Jake nodded in agreement. “It’s getting late, let me drive you to your home —”

“No, it’s okay Jake, we’re just here to fuck remember?” you reminded, and Jake didn’t rebut. “I’ll just book a car ride home. Don’t worry about me, I’ve been doing this many times.”

Jake could only quip a small smile as he walked you towards the door. 

“At least text me if you got home safe,”  Jake told you, and you let out a small chuckle.

“Alright, if it’ll make you sleep peacefully at night,” you teased. 

“Goodnight y/n, see you in Decelis?” Jake said hesitantly.

You tip-toed to land a kiss on his cheeks, winking at him as you said, “no, see you when we fuck again.”

-

It’s been two months since you and Jake had officially became a fuck buddy.

The set-up wasn't typical. It’s raw (maybe because you let him hit you raw,) but it’s intimate. The two of you also had discussed a lot of kinks to make each other feel good. Everytime you two meet, things spice up in bed and you two always end the night satisfied.

You’ve learned that Jake likes being a dom who complies to your wishes, which makes your set-up better. You consider him as a great fuck buddy especially when soft gestures and aftercares would follow after the rough sex, showing you that he’s not the only one benefitting on this set-up.

Outside the bedsheets, you two talked like you two aren’t each other’s fuck buddies. It was one rule that you had established and Jake complies to it. 

There were no wariness and subtle glances at each other. You’re used to guys texting you after, asking for dates or another hookup, they aren’t even subtle when greeting you inside the campus with eyes filled with lust. But Jake? Jake maintained his boundaries with you. 

He talks to you using his usual tone, acting like he didn’t shove his dick in your mouth many times. But you like it. You finally found someone who’s respectful with your boundaries and complies to whatever set-up you two had agreed. Despite the many times you two had sex, the two of you haven’t crossed the line. Both handled it maturely and were really just there for the sex. 

“Jake, I’ll be going now, y/n, bye-bye!” Jiwon announced, waving at the two of you who reciprocated it. The smile on her face was wide since her boyfriend’s waiting by the doorsteps of the club room. 

“Hey Jake! Don’t study too much, you’ll be out of our reach now,” Heeseung teased before grabbing Jiwon’s bag.

“Get lost you lovebirds,” Jake laughs, before waving goodbye to his friends one last time. You observed how Jake’s eyes lingered on them for a few minutes before continuing his task.

You hummed lightly as you focused on your report. The two of you remained inside the club room, stuck with tons of reports that became mishaps last semester. Incomplete documents and missing reports, Jake couldn’t help but to work overtime due to it along with you. 

“Did you ask your staff regarding this?” Jake asked in a serious tone, a pissed expression written on his face because some cases weren’t even during his term — some were even during his sophomore years, and it only showed up during his term. 

“I already sent a message on our group chat but no one’s responding to me,” you answered, checking your phone again but your message was left on read. “I’ll look more, it must be here somewhere.”

You stood up from your seat, going towards the files on the corner table. Grabbing it one by one to check if there may be some stray documents inside it — not noticing how Jake’s eyes were glued at you the whole time. 

Your hair was messily tied with a claw clip, revealing your nape that’s too tempting for Jake, completely a contrast against your immaculate white blouse that’s too thin, he can see the silhouette of your black bra. Then, his eyes trailed downwards to your skirt, the short navy blue skirt of your department. It’s a few inches above your knees but enough for him to see your gorgeous thighs and legs. 

Jake gulps tightly. Suddenly, his pants are too tight and his body starts to feel hot, making him loosen his tie. Eyes still glued to you, observing you who’s oblivious about his stares.

Jake’s mind started to haze, wondering why the room’s suddenly too hot despite the white noise coming from the air conditioner. But he remained glued to you — who suddenly dropped a document.

And of course, you don’t pick it up by bending your body, revealing your ass at him like a whore. You kneeled on the floor and picked it up with much demurity. Brushing the dust off your skirt as you stand up before going back to your task. 

His knuckles tightly gripped on the edge of the table, eyes watching you like a hawk. An obscene idea formed in his mind. And an idea that he knows isn't allowed and will surely lead him into trouble. That the act of indecency is prohibited by Decelis — but you’re just too tempting.

It’s almost seven in the evening. Usually there were only a few students around the building. A little stunt won’t hurt right? Jake thought before he stood up from his seat, strutting towards you and trapping you with his arms. You were startled, mouth about to open when you felt Jake’s hot breath on your nape — sending chills on your spine. 

“You’re going to be the death of me angel,” he whispered to you, tone dark and lustful that you felt yourself shivering. His body pressed closer to you, feeling his hard-on against your ass. 

“Jake —” you halted a breath when his lips landed on your neck, peppering kisses and soft nibbles making you bend forward. “Not here — someone might walk in.” you tried to push him away but he immediately grabbed your wrists, unable to tug it as he pressed himself so that you could feel his chest against your back. 

“We’re the only one here,” Jake assured. “Can’t wait any longer for you.”

“Jake stop — ah!” The next thing you knew, Jake had you bended on the table, cheeks pressed against the surface with his huge hands stabilizing it. Jake groans softly as he grinds his clothed dick against your skirt, moaning loudly as he rutted on it harshly.

Your heart started beating fast, body shaking and feeling violated with his actions — but at the same time, you can feel yourself heating up. It felt so wrong but your body couldn’t do anything, not even an attempt to struggle your way out was done.

“You want this too do you?” he whispered to you, your eyes widening as he hunches your skirt up to your waist, revealing your black cotton panties underneath. His hands fondling the curve of your butt, making you writhe from his touch.

“Stop —” You shake your head but Jake only pressed your face harsher, tears started to form from your eyes. 

“Be a good girl and behave for me? You don’t want to see their golden girl being a bad girl don’t you?” he taunted, and that thought had your heart racing. 

You two can’t do this. Someone might walk in any minute now. The door’s unlocked and the small window of the door was enough for you two to be seen. That’s when you struggled your way out but Jake grabs your wrist and holds it on your back. 

“We’ll be quick angel, it’ll be nice and you’ll feel good with it,” Jake said, fumbling with his belt with his free hand. He unzips his zipper and releases his cock free from its strain. Angry red and twitching, Jake was eager when he swiftly pulled your panties on the side, slightly rubbing his tip on its entrance which made you move away — but Jake hovered over you.

“Just be quiet for me, going to fuck you real quick you won’t feel any pain —” but it was the complete opposite of what you felt when his huge tip slides in without a warning. You let out a muted cry as Jake sheathes inside you nice and slow yet his huge cock is still too big for you for the sudden penetration. 

It felt so wrong in many ways — but you like it. You like the way that you couldn’t do anything about the situation. You couldn’t do anything but take his cock as he pounds on you senseless. You know that Jake isn’t going to stop unless you say so. Even if you tell him to stop a hundred times, he won’t — unless the safe word comes out of your mouth.

But it never did. You enjoyed the way his dick penetrated inside you, your pussy hugging it making you cry in pain and pleasure. 

“Jake — ah! It hurts —” you cried, feeling his thrust faster and harsher with his protruding tip kissing your deepest parts. 

“It hurts? Don’t fuck with me angel, you love it don’t you? I can feel you getting wet around my dick,” Jake taunted, giving sharp consecutive thrusts leaving you moaning incoherent words.

Your cries filled the whole room, along with the wet slaps of bodies as Jake pounds your pussy with no resentment. His groans lustful and dark, big hands gripping your wrist so tight that you couldn’t do anything but to accept your fate. Heart beating fast that it’s the only thing you can hear against the lewd noises. 

Then you felt it. You’re on the edge of your orgasm. A whimper escapes your lips which signaled Jake. He removes his hold from your wrist before wrapping his hands on your neck, choking you tightly as he presses his body against yours, body sticking together, uniforms getting creased as his hips never stop abusing your holes. The table beneath started to creak, shuffling against the marbled tiles while you crunched against the papers that your hand could reach.

“You’re going to cum now? See how you like it? My angel wanted to get fucked wherever she wants to,” Jake whispered against your ears, reminding you that you’re doing something scandalous inside your campus, and the risk of getting caught is there.

That’s the thrill, there’s nervousness inside you that had your pussy tightening against Jake’s length. Earning a sharp groan from him, as he teasingly chuckled. “With the way your pussy’s sucking me in, I can tell you love this angel.” 

With his expert thrusts, Jake made you cum in no time. A soft sob escaping your lips as the coil in your stomach tightened, knees and legs shaking that you lost your footing — finding balance on Jake’s pressed body against yours. 

Jake follows you shortly after. Filling you with his raw seeds making you whine too loudly that Jake covered your mouth with his hand. He pulls out immediately and starts pumping his dick, spilling a few strands on your ass and skirt, staining your uniform while his cum drips against your inner thighs. 

Jake could feel his cock twitching at the sight. You bent over the table inside the club room, uniform messed and creased with his cum stains. He couldn’t believe that he had the power and confidence to do an act that might risk not only his reputation — but also yours. 

But in the moment of silence that’s when Jake gently holds you, removing you from the table before facing you towards him — his face filled with a worried expression like he didn’t just violate you earlier. His hands go through your wrists as he lightly massages it. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“What the fuck just happened?” you asked, still having a post-orgasm haze.

A hint of nervousness hit Jake, hands on your shoulders as he said, “I’m sorry —”

“No, don’t say sorry Jake, I like it —” but you slapped his chest, eyes glaring at him. “But what the fuck was that!? I didn’t know you’re into public sex!”

“It’s your fault, you’re just too tempting,” he admits, sensing a rush of relief to see that you’re fine with it. “You like it though.”

You two have talked about it a few weeks ago. Jake’s eyes widened when you shared that you’re into non consensual things, you love the way that you don’t have control on some things especially in bed — Jake understood what you meant, and you two established a safe word. 

You like it, you just didn’t expect that you two are going to do it inside the club room. Somehow, you felt nervous at the thought of breaking school rules. 

“Yeah, but what if we got into trouble?” you asked hypothetically, knowing that you two aren’t just students — you two are considered as the role models, it’ll be a huge scandal if they’ve discovered what you two have done.

“But it feels good right? Breaking the rules,” Jake grins, his hands on your waist while his half-hard cock poking your thighs. He seems to be confident about it while the worry look on your face still remains. 

“Jake, I’m serious,” you told him, heart still beating fast. 

“I’m not going to do it if I’ll be risking something,” he assured, hand brushing your hair as he lightly grazes on your cheeks. “Don’t worry pretty, I won’t give you trouble.”

Jake leans closer for a kiss from you, you could only close your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a heated, torrid kiss that had you two immediately gasping for air after a few minutes. 

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you whispered against his lips. “I can’t believe we broke some rules.”

“And I don’t mind breaking more with you,” Jake whispered, and you don’t know what he meant, but as Jake pulled you for another heated kiss, you couldn’t feel anything but the rapid beating of your heart — something indescribable and only would you feel whenever you’re with Jake. 

-

If there’s one thing to describe with Jake is that he is rational.

He abides by every rule and condition given to him. One mistake can be a risk, and Jake, although a risk-taker, still will play safe if he doesn’t gain anything good from the risk. 

Even with your little set-up, Jake respects your conditions and abides by it. That little stunt a few weeks ago wasn’t part of your conditions but you two promised to never do it again inside the campus. Risk is still a risk, and it just sinked into him that his action was too impulsive and risky for you two. 

Fortunately, there weren’t any rumors circling around. Jake was assured that no one had witnessed the scene. Over the past weeks, you two returned to your usual setup — meeting only to have sex, nothing more, nothing less.

Inside his room, Jake was in the middle of his break. His laptop is left open while his notes are spread through the table. He leans against his computer chair as he plays one round of online games, something to relax him in between his study sessions. 

Suddenly, his phone’s ringtone pings, and although he’s in the middle of the game, Jake stops — abandoning his game because that ringtone is specifically for you. Jake looks up to his phone, receiving a notification from you. It wasn’t the usual message that you’d send if you down to fuck. Something about your message had Jake staring at it for a moment.

Hey, can you pick me up here? Just need someone.” your message says. It was straightforward. No flirty remarks or horny subtexts. Not even an emoji and that period — you don’t use periods. 

Jake thought about it for a moment. Wondering if you just sent it to the wrong person. After all, you two only meet to fuck. But in Jake’s mind — in his rational thought, you might be in trouble and the first person you’ve thought of was him. 

So hurriedly, he grabbed his jacket and left his room, going towards the room next to him and knocking a few times before it swung open. 

“Aera, can I borrow your car?”

Jake arrives at the location you sent. A convenience store wherein he can see you from its window. Sitting alone while fiddling with your phone. Jake calls you from his phone and as you look up, your eyes meet.

“Thank you,” you only mumbled as you sat on the passenger seat.

Jake looks at you for a minute. Compared to your usual perfect getup, you were a mess. Your hair is tied in a disheveled low ponytail, eyes red and puffy, obvious that you had cried, you were even holding back your sobs as you only cling on your jacket. Inside it was a tank top and pajama pants. 

You didn’t spare a glance at Jake, your eyes glued at the window of the car. The car was filled with nothing but silence. Jake didn’t want to push you to talk, so he decided to drive away — somewhere that’ll give you a peace of mind. 

The drive brought you two to the highway road, somewhere on the border of the city and its neighboring town. Jake had known this route since Aera brought him and Yunjin to her hometown. Turning right and leaving the highway, the car slowly drove towards a less traveled road. Almost empty and dark if it wasn’t for the few orange streetlights to give light to stray cars. 

Jake stops by the side of the road, somewhere dark and uphill. That’s when you realized you two had stopped. Glancing at your side, only to see that the top view of the city is in front of you. It’s beautiful against the dark night. Hundreds of buildings and establishments flickering like stars, showing you that you’re just a small piece of the huge city. 

“How did you find this?” you asked, almost a whisper.

“Aera, Yunjin, and I took a wrong turn one time,” Jake smiles, remembering the chaos it brought.

It was late in the evening, Aera was panicking while steering the wheel because she took a wrong turn. Yunjin was shouting how this is how a horror movie starts, while Jake was trying his best to find a signal from his phone. They were driving in the dark for so long, screaming and panicking until they passed this road, they eventually stopped. Relief came into their senses because they weren’t trapped in the middle of a haunted road.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled, staring at the view for so long. 

“It has become our secret place ever since,” Jake said, smiling. “When we’re tired, stressed, or just need to escape the city, we go here. You’re the only one I brought here, I don’t know about my roommates if they ever brought someone here.” 

You ignored the way your heart faltered with his words. This feels nice. You think, being away from the noise of the city. And as you clutch your phone, that’s when you remember the reason why you even left your place. 

“My sister and I…we had a fight,” you opened up slowly, making Jake glance at you. “We’re close. Very close, she’s my best friend, my ride or die you can say.”

But a bittersweet smile formed on your lips. “But sometimes she doesn’t understand me.”

“It's just a silly fight about chores and keeping the apartment clean, but —” a choke sob escapes from your lips, trembling as you inhale deeply. “Why does it always have to be me? I know she’s tired from work, but I get tired with school too. She always belittles my tiredness and it’s getting annoying — it’s like I don’t have the right to get tired.”

You let out a deep sigh before aggressively wiping your tears. “She thinks I’m all this smart and good at everything girl and I wish I wasn’t. Sometimes I regret excelling in my studies, all this extracurricular shits and being the golden girl because I can’t fail, I don’t want to disappoint everyone.” 

Jake quietly listens to your rant, realizing how you two are so similar yet different too. 

You both got the title because you two met the standards. He doesn’t care about the title, it wasn’t a crowning glory for him. While you hold onto it like it’s your pride, it’s something that will prove your worth. You may seem so alike but you two see the title so differently. 

“She doesn’t understand that I am not that smart, I study hard, yes, but I am not that intelligent. And everytime I bring that up, she thinks that I’m just lowering my self-esteem, but it’s the truth! I’m not good with everything! Do you know why I’m a communications student? Because I hate math Jake, that’s a cursed subject and it’s my lowest in my records. A fucking 2.5.”

Jake, being an engineering student, merely laughs at your rant. You had a pissed expression written on your face but the sobs never stopped. Jake wonders whether to take you seriously or not. But he nods at your words, trying to understand your sentiments because even he isn’t that great at some fields, like literature or anything with subjective essay writings. He hates those kinds of subjects.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” you apologized immediately, realizing that Jake hasn’t said a word throughout your whole rant. “I know I told you that we shouldn’t do things like this, but I just really need some escape.”

“Don’t you have friends?” he asked, a curious question that seems to be far from your worries. 

“I have but they don’t study at Decelis,” you laughed, finding his question funny yet comforting. “That’s why I love being in the student aid, it feels nice talking to students and helping them. Some juniors look up to me, they don’t know I’m just this imposter who’s not really great at everything.”

“You’re not an imposter y/n,” Jake said. “You’ve worked hard to gain the title. They gave it to you because you deserve it.”

“Do I? Or is it because there weren’t any candidates this year? That’s why they just chose me since I’m the last option.” you rebutted.

“Maybe you’re sister’s right,” Jake said with a serious tone. “Maybe you’re just lowering your self-esteem. Y/n, you were last year’s Selene, you used to be the head radio jock of the radio station, and you never left the department honors’ list every semester — fuck, you’re the vice president of the student aid, everyone loves you! Is that enough proof for you that you deserve the title?”

You don’t know why but your mouth shut down when Jake rambled. You never thought that those words would come out of Jake’s mouth. Shock? Perhaps, asking how Jake knows you this much while you only know him through his touch and golden boy image?

Then it struck you and your setup with him. Like cold water pouring on you as you realized that you might have slightly broke the rule because you went to him and instead of asking to be fucked, you vented out your frustrations on him.

A curse left your lips as you glanced at Jake, eyes pleading and yearning as he only stared at you with his usual neutral expression, like he was waiting for your response.

But you only grabbed Jake by his hoodie and pulled him for a kiss, aggressive and salty as tears still continued to fall from your eyes. Strong hands managed to push you away but your hands remained at his clothes. 

“What the —”

“Forget everything I said Jake, we only meet to fuck remember?”

Jake wasn’t able to rebut when you pulled him for another kiss. At first he doesn’t move, but slowly he responds to your kiss, light and slow, like he’s careful of breaking you. 

And you hated feeling like you’re fragile. You pulled out of the kiss to grab the gear to adjust Jake’s seat — enough to give you space to sit on his lap and give him another heated kiss. 

Jake lets you dominate him as you straddle on his lap. Kissing him hurriedly as your quick hands immediately went between his thighs. Palming his cock, making him groan against your lips. You’ve done this many times and you know where this will lead — you being fucked out of your sadness.

But slowly, Jake stops responding to your kisses. Suddenly, he grabs your face, separating it from you. Seeing him with his angry expression and flushed lips, you could only whine as you grind against his cock, hoping that he’ll give you what you want. 

“Y/n stop —” Jake sternly said. “You’re vulnerable. We shouldn’t do this.”

But you bitterly smiled at him. “Jake, do you know why I do hook-ups? Because it’s my escape, so please, just make me forget everything.” 

“Not with this y/n —”

“Jake please! You might think I’m weak and vulnerable but I know what I am doing.” you said with a serious tone, pleading as you grabbed both his hands, placing it on your waist as your hips continued to move beneath him. 

Jake stared at you for a minute, thinking that he had no choice but to agree. It’s your setup with him. You two are just there for pleasure. If you can fuck him out of his frustration, why can’t he do it with your sadness? It felt unfair to go against your want. 

The two of you moved on the backseat. You lay down as Jake prepared you, scissoring your insides hastily, curling at the spot until you’re wet enough for him. He pulls his pants down enough to release his cock, pumping it lightly, smearing his precum for lubrication, and quickly aligns it on your entrance. Slowly, Jake sheaths inside you, earning a moan from you that he started moving. 

Jake’s thrust was frantic. Fast but wasn’t harsh, like he was trying his best to make you cum. He could only close his eyes shut as he pounds inside you, leaving you in heaving moans. His hands are both on your waist while your hands could only hold onto it for support.

“Faster, please —” You begged but Jake can’t and instead he closes his eyes because he couldn’t bear to see your face. Your eyes red and puffy from crying — yet it haunted him even in his mind. Your conversations replaying in your mind, Jake suddenly halted his action. 

“I’m sorry —” Jake could only groan, taking a sharp exhale. “I just can’t, I know you want this, but this is still wrong.” 

Jake removes his hands from your waist, almost feeling himself disgusted to do the act. He looks down on you whose eyes watered and that even breaks his heart more. 

“Fuck, I just can’t fuck you out of your sadness y/n, you don’t need sex to escape your worries.” he said to you. 

And softly, you said, “I’m okay with this.”

“And I’m not, you can forget your worries without me using you.” Jake stated, his tone became serious but there’s a hint of worry on it.

You only stared at him. Eyes wide as it just sinked into you what happened. Jake didn’t want to have sex with you when it’s the only thing that you two should be doing. But he did it out of respect for you, because he knows that your emotions are all over the place. 

“I’m sorry,” you only cried, making Jake pull you upwards, wrapping you close to him as you cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry —”

Jake hushes you, “it’s not your fault, I’m not mad don’t worry. Just let it out.”

“I just want to be seen.” you confessed, holding tightly on his jacket. “It’s like everything I do is not enough for everyone.” 

“You’ve done everything, you’ve worked hard for the title. Everyone loves you y/n, don’t ever forget that,” Jake softly said. Hands possessively around your waist as his other hand drew circles around your back. 

“It’s not enough —”

“You’ve proven your worth. They gave you the title because they know that you deserve it,” Jake said. “Don’t ever think that you’re worthless — that you’ll find your worth using sex, you’re more than that.”

“I’m sorry for forcing you,” you mumbled, feeling guilty all of the sudden.

“I understand your part, but I just can’t do it with your emotions all over the place,” Jake reassured, and that made you better than before. He knows his boundaries with you, agreeing to each other’s condition but at the same time, he doesn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability. 

“Thank you,” you only breathed. “I — it’s just — I just need to distract myself.”

“That’s why I brought you here,” Jake explained. Hand patting the back of your shoulder. “This could be your breather. Don’t worry about anything.”

“Then, can we stay like this?” you asked suddenly, glancing at him who only remembered that he’s still inside you. 

Jake became quiet for a moment. “Do you want to?"

You only nod, snuggling closer to him, resting on his chest as you can feel the faint beat of his heart. “You’re warm, and it eases me…I don’t know, I know we said we shouldn’t do this but…I think this is the closest thing that we can do as sex.”

Jake only brushes your hair softly, a kiss landing on top of your hair before he said, “if it eases you, of course we can — and don’t worry about it, we can break a few rules just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” you mumbled back. Jake’s willing to break the rules just for you and it reminded his words back at the club room, leaving you questions if those rules also applied to your setup.  

But you remained laying on Jake’s chest, while his arms were around your waist. The two of you laid there in silence. Warm bodies eloping underneath the cold hum of the car’s air conditioner. Jake didn’t try to move, worried that it might stir you. His swelling cock still inside you, pulsing as your warm, gummy walls enveloped it. 

Jake knows that this is against the rules. Cockwarming is something you two agreed to use for foreplay but this one? It’s different, and new, — and rawfully intimate. With you finding comfort to have him inside you, making you at ease, Jake thinks that this one is out of each other’s conditions. 

He let out a sigh as he remembered how you two shouldn’t act like lovers. His mind racing with thoughts. Thinking if he should’ve just fucked you earlier, it wouldn’t lead to this kind of warm between you. 

But his conscience wouldn’t let him. So he lets you sleep in his chest, and as you deeply fall into your slumber with the night becoming deep, Jake decides to slowly remove you from him. You whimper a little but Jake managed to put on your pajamas back. Pulling his sweatpants up before driving back to the city.

Back in the apartment, Yunjin was in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water when she heard the door open. She quickly leaves the kitchen and her eyes went wide to see Jake carrying you behind his back, gripping tightly to your sleeping figure.

And as he makes eye contact with his roommate, he remembers everything Yunjin had advised him. 

“Sorry, I don’t think it’s appropriate to bring her to her home,” Jake excused immediately. 

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, “attachment is what will ruin what you two have, I’m just saying Jake.”

“I know. It’s just that she has nowhere else to go.” 

“It’s fine, but I’m just reminding you.”

Jake only nods. He went straight to his room wherein he places you gently down in his bed. He changes into his sleepwear before laying beside you. Hands instinctively brushing your soft hair like it was on auto-pilot. 

Then he stops — ponder for a moment, wondering if what you two did is still part of your setup.

But he knows that it wasn’t. You two didn’t have sex and he seemingly broke the rule. Everything that you two did was too intimate for a pair of fuck buddies. Attachment — as what Yunjin said, might ruin what you two have. It’s not too late for him to distance himself. 

Jake knows it was the rational thing to do. The moment you two established this setup, no rules were broken until tonight, and it’s because of him.

It was rational for him to fuck you to escape your worries. It’s the agreement that you two agreed on. Regardless of whatever emotions you had because at the end of the day, you two are just there for sex. 

But maybe, Jake wanted to break some rules. Ruin whatever you two have, and just be a mess — far from his golden boy image who always had sort things right. 

And he couldn’t believe that he’s having those thoughts. Jake has always been rational. He thinks ahead before making a choice. But with you, he somehow mixes his emotions and thinks about what might affect you.

You probably put a spell on him, and Jake wanted to curse you for entering his life as a hurricane, ruining his perfectly planned college life. — but he didn’t, instead, he planted a kiss on your forehead as he whispered good night to you. Because he knows deep inside that he wants the chaos too. 

-

By morning, Jake found himself alone in his bed. Blinking, he stares at the empty side for a moment before he sits up to grab his phone, seeing that it was a Thursday. He had no classes that day but maybe you had, that’s why you left early. 

Quickly, he left his room, brushing his bedroom hair that became messier as he walked towards the  kitchen when he heard bright laughter by the dining table. Familiar voices that are talking together. Jake’s feet stopped for a moment, listening to their soft murmurs and chuckles, sleepy mind trying to process everything before entering the area.

There he found you, sitting along Yunjin and Aera, with plates of full breakfast on the table. The three of them stopped, glancing at Jake who seems to be still drowsy in the morning. 

“There he is,” Yunjin laughed. “We were just talking about you.”

Yunjin’s words became mute as Jake’s eyes never left you. You’re still wearing your clothes from last night, sitting beside his roommates, who he cherishes so much, with a wide smile on your face. It wasn’t your typical smile, it was full of laughter and bright. A total contrast from your sobbing expression last night.

A relief rushed in Jake’s chest, seeing how you’ve become comfortable immediately with his roommates. He didn’t even realise that he was staring for too long that Aera had to literally shout his name — snapping out of his thoughts.

“Dude, are you still asleep?” Yunjin asked, laughing as Jake started to move. 

“Sorry, maybe I was.” Jake apologized before sitting on the empty chair. 

Jake remembered how you said you don’t have any friends in Decelis, that’s why seeing that you’re warming up with Yunjin and Aera, he was glad that you somehow found some female friends that you can comfortably talk to. He overhears you three talking about skincares, novels, even their chaotic love life was shared to you who only gasps at the details. 

By ten in the morning, Yunjin and Aera left for Decelis, leaving Jake and you alone inside the dorm, volunteering to clean the dishes on their behalf. 

“Do you have a schedule for today?” Jake asked, after rinsing the last plate. 

“I do, but it’ll be later in the afternoon,” you answered. “You?”

“I’m free for the whole day,” Jake said. “I should drop you off at your place so that you can get ready.”

“Okay, sure, thanks Jake…not only for that, but for last night too.” you softly said, making Jake stop for a moment but he gives you a small smile.

“It’s no worries, you can stay there, I’ll just go take a shower.” Jake excused. “...do you want to join me?”

Your eyes widened, an unusual invitation but you only muttered your “yes’ before Jake reached for your hand, instinctively, you accepted it as he guided you towards the bathroom. 

You wonder where this will lead. You sit on the closed toilet seat as Jake goes back and forth from his room towards the bathroom, lending you a clean towel and some spare clothes of his. 

“I don’t know if you use specific products, you can just steal some from my roommates. I'll just buy them in exchange,” Jake stated. That’s when you noticed the pile of toiletries on a holder beside the shower. Three tiers that contain different products, finding it nice how organized that roommates were. 

It made you smile, “you sure love your roommates, and they love you too.”

“They’re like sisters to me, we’ve been living together for so long that it feels like we’re a family,” Jake shared as he closed the bathroom door before glancing at you. “Let’s go?”

The two of you stripped off from each other’s clothes before going inside the shower. Jake opens the shower, cold water hitting your bare body startling you. You close your eyes as you brush your hair slowly making it wet. 

“Can I?” you heard Jake ask, and you don’t know what he meant, but he grabs the white bottle of shampoo that smelled like sakura flowers. He lathers it in his hands before carefully starting massaging your hair. 

His hands were gentle, soft and careful as his long fingers brushed the tangle strands. Strangely the act was so intimate and gentle, which you two shouldn’t do. It’s not part of your setup. But no one said a word about it, no one reprimanded the other for the act. The two of you stood there as Jake continued massaging your hair. 

Then he massaged a certain spot on your head, which you mindlessly moaned. Eyes wide when you realized your action, but Jake only chuckled as he continued his action before rinsing off the shampoo out of your hair.

“I can do it from here,” you said. Grabbing the bottle of conditioner, before glancing at Jake who immediately lets you be. 

The two of you continued showering together. Quiet in your own world, with the raindrop-like sound of the falling water as a noise. It felt odd for you, never tried showering with a male, the proximity felt uneasy since you two are bare without the act of sex. You become wary of your movement but at the same time, you’re at ease because you’re with Jake.

It’s not obvious that his eyes darted on you at some moments. You’re not that dumb to feel it, but you ignore it, immersing yourself with the cold shower as you rinse off the conditioner from your hair. 

Then there was it. A kiss on your shoulder was the next thing you felt. With the cold water trailing down on you two, Jake’s warm body pressed against yours and slowly wraps his arms around you as he continues to pepper kisses on your shoulder, towards your neck making you tilt it to give him more space. 

“Let me make up with you,” he proposed. “Make you feel good, more good than you think.” 

A soft gasp was only your answer. Closing your eyes Jake tightens his hold on you. His lips were busy with the way he kisses your body nonstop. Showering you with love and warmth as a form of apology from last night. 

You turned around to face him. Eyes locked on his drowsy ones as you brush his wet bangs before trailing your fingers on his cheeks down to his jawline. Memorizing every detail of his face as he remained staring at you. 

You wanted Jake — no, you need him. You can’t have him because it’ll break the rules, but you need his warmth and closeness. The same warmth that gave you comfort last night. Your eyes were pleading as you wrapped your arms around his neck before standing on your toes to kiss him. Jake automatically leaned on, kissing you back with much tenderness — reciprocating the way you kissed him. Warm, and sensual, different from the heated makeouts you two had.

No one said a thing about the way the atmosphere felt different. You two stood there, drowning in the way each lips moved and tasted each other like it’s your last moment on earth. 

You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. But the next thing you knew, Jake had you cornered against the tiles, the shower continued to run cold water yet you can feel the warm of each other’s skin — not lustful, not hungry, something intense and dangerous that both of you know are too risky to bring up. 

You stared at him once again. Hands brushing against his wet hair as the thumping beat of your heart becomes too fast and loud, but the serene silence inside the shower deafens it. 

“I don’t want you to make me feel good,” you whispered to him. “I just need you close to me Jake.”

And Jake complied. He made you melt deeply into his touch. He made you sure that you felt like a goddess and he’s your devotee. His hands found their way to touch every part of your body, tracing and remembering every inch of it, like he’s scared that he’ll forget you. Making sure not a single part is left behind as he takes you against the wall.

The loud echoing moans mixed together with the continuous rain shower. Your whimpers and groans drowning as each other’s lips find its way with much tenderness — the bathroom has become hot yet intimate as you pull him closer, so close like you don’t want to let go of him. The proximity between you two only made it more special and different from the times you two had sex.

You’re taking Jake all the way in, holding him closely to your body, chest pressed to each other as your hands clasps on his wet hair strands as he thrust his huge cock to you until you’re seeing stars. 

Jake follows after, painting your insides white as he captures your lips once again. His cock softens inside you, but he remains glued to you as your arms are wrapped around his neck, feeling safe and warm against his body. 

“You okay?” he asked, breaking the silence. His eyes searched for you, hoping that your puffy red eyes won’t meet him. 

“I’m good,” you answered, feeling the haze coming as you smiled at him. Jake felt relieved to see that your eyes looked fine and normal unlike last night. 

After the act, the two of you finished showering. In tranquil silence, bodies and hair were dried before putting on fresh clothes. With that, Jake picks up the car keys and drives you to your place. 

As you reached the entrance of your apartment, you took off your seatbelt but remained there, glancing at Jake whose eyes were on the road. Now that everything has come down, you two realized that everything you’ve done starting last night had completely ruined your setup. 

Sure you two had sex inside the shower, but it was different. And Jake knows that too. There’s no way to deny the rapid beating of your heart, and as much as you wanted to acknowledge what you’re feeling right now, it still feels so wrong. 

“Thanks Jake,” you started. “Let’s just pretend everything didn’t happen.”

“Alright,” Jake shortly answers, not even batting an eye at you, and that earns a harsh tug on your heart. So quickly, you went out of the car and closed the door, leaving Jake who’s too quiet that he hadn’t realized that your words had crushed his heart. 

-

It’s been a week since you last saw Jake mainly for sex. You still see him in the club room, still in his serious president mode while you do your duties. You two haven’t talked personally and it sort of scared you. Wondering if you had hurt his feelings that day. 

But then again, no feelings should be involved, so why should you feel guilty about a possibility that shouldn’t happen in the first place? You chose to ignore it and decided to maybe take a break on your setup since things have been pretty busy lately, especially when graduation is in a few months. 

You only hum your way towards your department building, listening to your daily playlist — oblivious to the stares you’ve been receiving. You’re used to stares, but you didn’t notice that the stares were different from the usual looks you always receive. 

When you arrived at your classroom that’s when you realized that they suddenly felt cautious around you. Your forehead creased with confusion as it didn’t take you a minute to process everything because a classmate approached you. 

“They’re talking about you,” she said, tone filled with curiosity. “Is it true?”

“What’s true?” you asked, confused with her question. 

“Someone saw you having sex with Jake Sim in the club room.”

You felt your world shattering. Eyes wide as you looked at her as you freezed from where you were standing. 

“Where did you hear that?” you asked, trying to stitch up a lie because not only your image is in danger, but also your standing as a student. 

It’s a grief offense. You know what this may result. Suspension. Community service or maybe being stripped off the honor’s list — which is what you’ve been aiming for. No. This can’t be. 

“It’s circulating around the campus,” she said. “Everyone’s talking about you and Jake.”

Fuck, now it’s a hot topic inside the campus. You know how fast words can spread, and there’s no escape from it. Your lips started to tremble as you tried your best to try and make out a good excuse but another classmate approached you. 

“Hey, you alright? Mr. Choi is looking for you,” she whispered, an assuring pat on your back was all you felt as you nod at her. Nervousness hitting your body as the university’s disciplinary officer is looking for you. 

So it had reached the higher-ups? You could only let out a bitter smile as you turned around and left the classroom. Shame hitting your body that you couldn’t help but to lower your head as you walked your way towards the administration’s building. 

As you entered the office, you saw Jake sitting on the couch. Both looked at each other but no one said a word. Mr. Choi gestured to you to sit on the couch beside Jake, sitting on it while the man sat on his chair behind the table.

The air was cold and the tension was too suffocating. You’re there frozen as Mr. Choi stares at you two. 

“There’s a rumor circulating around the campus that you two were doing some…indecency inside the club room,” Mr. Choi started, both glancing at the two of you. 

Your hand finds its way to your finger, prickling on the skin of your thumb as your heart starts beating way too loud that it’s deafening your surroundings.

This is it. No more Latin honors. Suspension at a prestigious university, and you’re probably not going to graduate this year. Your parents will be disappointed with you, they’ll throw you out and —

“Is there proof?” Jake asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“There isn’t, but it’s spreading outside the campus,” Mr. Choi rested his hands on the table, and somehow that made you relieved. “You two are the image of a good Decelis student, so to hear this rumor — we wanted to take abrupt action.”

“As the image of a good Decelis I think me and ms. l/n knows that we should oblige to the rules of the university, and such indecency shouldn’t be done inside the club, even within the campus,” Jake answered. Blatantly lying through his breath as he gave Mr. Choi a smile —the professional one that he uses to talk to higher ups. That smile that convinces the higher-ups that he’s a good student and it’ll work, they’ll fall for it everytime. 

“Ms. l/n? Do you want to say anything?” you flinched as you looked at the disciplinary officer. 

“Mr. Sim is right Sir. Choi, acts like that are forbidden according to the school rulebook, we aren’t that stupid to ruin the image of Decelis” you simply said, nodding before quipping a small smile.

The man only looked at you for a minute before letting out a sigh. 

“I’m sorry for causing you two troubles,” Mr. Choi apologized. “I believe you two — it’s just, rumors can be true, and we’re just surprised it involves you two who are great students. I know that you two aren’t prone to pre-marital sex and relationships, but this just shocked not only me, but also other concerned staff.”

Jake lightens the atmosphere by chuckling softly. “We understand Mr. Choi. It's no worries on our part and we’re glad to cooperate with you. Whoever started the rumor must be bored with their life.” 

“Are you two together?” Mr. Choi asked all of a sudden, glancing at the two of you. 

“We’re not, we’re simply acquainted,” you answered quickly. Too quick that Mr. Choi noticed how your voice was a bit defensive.

The man merely chuckles. “Alright Ms. l/n, you two may go back to your class.”

As the two of you left the office, Jake’s racing heart slowly slowed down. He only stood there frozen as he would never have thought that in his life that he’ll lie to a higher-up — or even be sent to the disciplinary officer, or just find himself denying a rumor. 

His knuckles turned round, nails digging on the palm as he tried to calm himself down. But his mind was clouded, he tried to compose himself as he started walking mindlessly — not until he felt you grabbing his shoulders.

You had a worried look on your face. Eyes trying to look for his stare but he’s just too numb with everything that just happened. 

“Jake —”

“Can you give me time to think y/n?” he said with a cold tone, making you stop. Jake didn’t notice the way he talked to you. His mind is still hazy as he lets out a deep sigh, frustration written all over him but he’s trying hard to act rational.

“Give you time to think?” you inhaled, disbelief written on your face. “Did you even had time to think when you bended me on that table and fuck me all of the sudden?”

A glare was given to you before Jake scoffs. “Suddenly? You liked it too, didn’t you? I would’ve stopped if you just said the safe word — but you didn’t, you fucking enjoyed it too. So don’t put this blame only on me. We’re in this together.”

You didn’t argue back. Jake’s right. You liked it too. The risk and anxiety of getting caught, there was adrenaline when you two did it. It was consensual, that's why there’s no one to blame between the two of you. The only problem was that the rumors floated, and even if you two had denied it, people would still talk no matter what. 

Both your reputations are on the line. There’s no guarantee that there’s no proof. It might circulate in a few days or maybe weeks. You don’t know when but it’s scaring you. Even right now you’re scared, everything is at risk now. 

“I did enjoy it Jake,” you snarled at him. “And you’re right, we’re in this together, but I hate how you’re suddenly cold to me. Pushing me away like you weren’t so caring and gentle with me a few days ago.”

“You shouldn’t have given meaning to it,” Jake rebuts. “And the last time I recall, it was you who told me that we should just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I am not giving meaning to it. It’s just that you’re so quick to suddenly be cold to me like it was my fault that there's a rumor spreading about us.” 

“Because you’re suddenly confronting me! Do you know how scared I was inside the office? Everything is at risk y/n, my title, image, my academic standing — I’m on the verge of not graduating this year!” Jake vented out. 

“You think you’re the only one who’s at risk? I’m also at risk Jake!”

“Then what do you want me to do? Comfort you? Make you feel better like I did that night? Can you live your life without getting validation from anyone!?”

That’s when Jake stopped — realizing that he crossed the line. The shocked expression written all over your face as your lips started to tremble, and yet, it formed into a thin line, holding yourself back as you raised your chin to face him.

“Is that what you really think of me? But what do I expect from you? You’re still a guy at the end of the day. You’re no different from other guys I’ve slept with.” you took a step forward. Eyes wide filled with frustration and anger. 

“You know what, you’re right Jake,” a bitter smile forming on your lips. “And it’s unfair because I trusted you that night, you assured me that we won’t be in trouble. But look at us now Jake.” 

“Then, you shouldn’t have trusted me,” Jake coldly rebutted. “Maybe I’m just an imposter just like you deep inside.”

“You really are Jake Sim,” you nodded in agreement. “Maybe you aren’t who I think you were, and I can’t believe you gave me enough validation and respect for me to think that I still have enough dignity left. And I’m not saying this because I gave meaning to it, I’m saying this because you still respected me despite our setup — but in the end, you’re going to throw me away like everyone else did, just because we got into trouble, for something both of us have done.” 

Jake didn’t say a word. You only heave out a sigh as tears start forming in your eyes. “And now, you’re looking at me like you’re so disgusted of me, like I’m the one who spread the rumors. But you know what? I don’t want to cause more trouble for you Jake. Let’s just end our setup, since you care more about your image than me.”

“Fine by me,” Jake simply replied. “And in the first place, I shouldn’t care about you, we’re fuck buddies remember?”

That was it. The final nail to the coffin. You can feel your heart crashing into thousands of pieces and you hated that feeling since it’s prohibited in the first place.

“You’re right Jake, and that’s what you’ll think of me, not the golden girl, not your vice president — or maybe a graduating student who’s also involved in the rumors. It’ll be easy for you to throw me away since no emotional attachment should be involved between the two of us.” 

You walked away first. The heavy feeling inside you becomes more heavier as the tears start to form while Jake’s eyes never leave you. He wanted to follow you, grab you arms and maybe, correct every word he said to you. But he remained glued from where he was standing, frustration still clouding in his mind and anxiety still high.

The whole day passed by in a glimpse. The rumors still circulated, Jake ignored it even though there were some strangers approaching him to ask if the rumors were true. He only walks away from them, especially when your name slips out of their mouth. 

You never left his mind. Not even when he returned to his apartment. Dropping his bag as he reaches to sit on the couch. He lets out a deep shaky exhale as his heart is still beating fast due to his anxiety, feeling it exploding any minute.

The door of the apartment opened, revealing his roommates. Shock written all over their faces and Jake immediately knew why. 

“The rumors,” Yunjin breathes. “Were they true?”

Jake didn’t answer Yunjin’s question. He only sat there frozen, creating a staring contest with his roommates.

“Shit it was real?” Yunjin asked, eyes almost popping out of its socket, “you two were so fucking horny that you two banged inside the club room!?”

“Wait, are you serious?” Aera stated. “I didn’t fucking expect that you two, Decelis’ supposed role students would have sex inside the club room.”

And the more they pointed out, the more guilt swelled in Jake’s heart. 

“Mr. Choi called us to his office,” Jake shared, earning a gasp from his roommates. 

“What happened?” Yunjin asked.

“Nothing, they don’t have proof, Mr. Choi thinks that we didn’t do it,” Jake explained, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. “Stupid people, if they’re going to spread a rumor like that at least show some fucking proof.”

“Are you okay?” Aera concernedly asked. 

“I’m fine —” Jake stops for a moment, lips tightly sealed as he glances at his roommate. “I was just shit-scared for a second. I just didn’t expect this would happen.”

“You two should be glad that there were no videos or photos,” Yunjin stated. “Really, what went through your mind to do it in the club room.”

“I don’t know either, it was just the two of us left there, and we’re like the last students there,” Jake replied. “I did it out of impulse.”

“Jake, you never act out of impulse.”

“I know but —” Jake lets out a sigh. “I wonder what their reaction would be to see that their golden students are doing something indecent inside the campus.”

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, “is that a fucking kink or something.”

“No, it’s something I’ve been thinking about, the feeling of disappointing people,” Jake answers. “Thinking of what their reaction would be if they realized that I’m not as “golden” as they think I am.”

“And you involved y/n in that impulsive idea of yours?” Yunjin angrily asked. “Jake, do you even know the cause of your impulsive idea?”

Jake didn’t answer. He suddenly remembered your confrontation earlier. Remembering that it’s not only him or his image that’s at risk. So is yours, and he just happened to make it worse even though it was his idea who brought you two here. Jake curses under his breath sharply, making both Yunjin and Aera looked at him. 

“You know it’s not only about what happened in the club room that’s been talked about right?” Aera added.

That’s when Jake glances at both of them, forehead creasing, “what do you mean?”

“You don’t know?” Aera exhales. “Her sex life has been spreading inside the campus, guys left and right are sharing that they slept with her, they think that she slept with almost every guy in Decelis.”

“You’re fucking kidding me?” Jake angrily asked.

“They’re going around calling her a hypocrite because she’s the golden girl but she sleeps with a lot of guys. They think she doesn’t deserve the title —”

“She got the title because she was intelligent and met its standard, why does it correlate with her sex life?”

“That’s just how people are Jake,” Aera answered. “No matter how intelligent or beautiful you are, the moment a scandal is linked to you — you're done.”

The guilt inside Jake’s heart became heavier. He doesn’t know that but it doesn’t matter, what mattered was that it was his fault why two got involved in a rumor. And instead of assuring her just like what he had promised that night, he pushed you away — even carelessly spat words that didn't mean anything.

“I fucked up,” he whispered. 

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, “what did you do?”

“I fucked up —” Jake deeply lets out a sigh, standing up from his seat, startling his roommates. “Shit, I said some things to her and —”

“Jake, stop,” Yunjin said, approaching Jake. “Breathe for us, calm down."

"How can I? I need to talk to her —"

"Give y/n space first, she might not be ready to talk to you.” Yunjin immediately interjected while she slowly pushes Jake down to sit on the couch once again.

“If it eases you, we can talk to her and ask how she is doing.” Aera suggested, with Yunjin agreeing.

“Please,” Jake breathed. “Tell her I’m sorry and —”

“You’re going to tell her that the next time you two meet,” Yunjin stated. “But for now, take some rest, we know that you’re also affected by what happened.”

Jake merely nods. He could only lower his head as all he could feel was guilt, shame, and anxiety. He didn’t even notice that Yunjin and Aera sat beside him, both arms wrapping around him as they lightly brushed Jake’s back.

“I’m sorry,” Jake only apologized. 

“We’re not mad at you,” Yunjin insisted.

“You’ve been thinking a lot don’t you? Failing?” Aera lightly asked.

“Yeah, in the end, I was still scared of it,” Jake explained. “I just realized that there’s still a hint of pride in being the golden boy.”

His roommates only nod, “but don’t ever do it again Jake. We still need to see you give the valedictorian’s speech.” 

“That’s not my goal you know?”

“Right, and if it was given to you, you’ll end up loving it still,” Aera argued, making the three of them laugh once again.

In the midst of the noise and chaos of today’s event, Jake finds himself in the tranquil comfort of his roommates, thankful that he had them by his side. 

-

It’s been a few days since the rumor aired — and you and Jake had called it off.

A few days and yet your name still lingered inside the campus. New rumors and false information that seem to be an exaggeration. At first, you were scared to go to Decelis, knowing that all eyes will be on you. You attended class and tried to be invisible as much as possible. You skipped your organizations and went straight home immediately. You didn’t want to cause more noise, knowing that your image is ruined and there’s no point of redeeming it. 

But today seems to be different. Jake was surprised to see you inside the club room, doing your duties as the student aid’s vice president. You had a serious look on your face as you talked to your assistant who seemed to be following your orders without any wariness.

Jake stood there for a moment before Jiwon called him out, snapping out of his thoughts as he sat beside Jiwon who immediately started her report. He lets his assistant talk but his eyes never leave yours. Wondering if he had approached you, would you push him away? Or talk to him and act like he’s just an acquaintance to you? Pretend everything about you two doesn’t exist?

It’s been a few days and you and Jake haven’t talked. The last thing he knew was that you don’t want to talk to him anymore. Yunjin told him that you don’t want to cause him trouble and Jake wanted to tell you that it’s not your fault — it’s his. He wanted to explain everything.

But everything’s ruined. His harsh words cut deep through you that not even a simple “sorry” could fix it. It didn’t help that you’re still being thrown off by everyone, so what’s the point of talking to Jake? Will it fix everything? Your only wish was that the remaining weeks would be peaceful because you just can’t wait to get the hell out of Decelis.

Hours passed inside the organization. The atmosphere was peaceful yet for Jake, it was suffocating with you still acting like he’s a ghost. 

“Jiwon, my team’s report is done now, I had it sent to your email,” Jake lifts up his head to see you standing in front of their table. But your eyes weren’t on him — you were talking to Jiwon like she’s the president of the club and the one you’re directly reporting to. 

Jiwon looks at her laptop, clicking a few buttons before glancing at you and giving you a smile, “All clear for me, you’re leaving now?”

“Yeah, I have errands to do,” you told Jiwon casually. “I’ll be going now, bye-bye.”

“Bye! Take care on the way home,” Jiwon smiled, and you gave the girl a smile — a small smile that Jake knows is out of decency. 

As you exit the club room, whispers start to murmur inside. Foul words and remarks about you began to echo around the room, making him tilt his head as he turned around to look at his staff. 

“Do you think that she’ll agree if I ask her to sleep with me?” a male sophomore snickered, and that was Jake’s breaking point. He was about to stand up when Jiwon’s voice got to him first. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Does your mom teach you manners?” Jiwon angrily said to the sophomore, creating tension inside the club room. “Before you say anything about y/n, check the fucking mirror first, you really think she’ll sleep with that face of yours?”

The sophomore apologized immediately, but Jiwon wasn’t having any of it, “she’s still your senior, the vice president of this organization — if you can’t respect her just because of a dismissed rumor, then fucking leave, we don’t want shitty people here.” 

No one dared to reply to Jiwon. Jake could only nod as Jiwon returned to her seat, going back to her work like she didn’t lecture the whole room. 

“It’s always the ugly guys who have the audacity,” Jiwon muttered under her breath, making Jake chuckle softly.

“I just hope y/n is okay,” she added, with a concerned look on her face. “I was surprised that she’s here today — have you talked to her?”

Jake was surprised with Jiwon’s question, “why would you think of that?”

“Because you’re the president!? And I know that the rumors about you two were quickly dismissed but you should’ve told her to lay low for a while, people still talk.”

Jake doesn’t know what to say to Jiwon. How can he tell her the whole context of the mess? It’s not that Jiwon will judge him, but it’s hard to explain everything to his friend.

So he only gave him a small smile before nodding, “I’ll tell her tomorrow, you seem to be worried about her.”

“Of course! Why would I? She’s kind and sweet, and what she does outside the campus doesn’t reflect her image inside,” Jiwon answers, and Jake wishes that you could’ve heard those words. 

-

But Jake wasn’t able to get the chance to talk to you the following day because a photo of you and him circulated around the campus. 

You heard it from a classmate of yours. Showing the photo which you only stared at for a minute. It was taken from outside. It was a bit blurry, but it’s the two of you kissing, clothes still intact, thankfully. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, fully covered by Jake who was leaning towards you.

Your heart dropped on your stomach. You wanted to cry or maybe throw your classmates’ phone out of rage. But you returned it to her, giving her a bitter smile before putting on your earphones — deafening your surroundings, knowing that they’ll be talking behind your back. 

It had you wondering what’s the intention of the owner of the photo? Does it satisfy them to ruin one’s image? Why now? When they could’ve just posted it along with the rumor a few weeks ago. It’s like step by step, they wanted to ruin you two slowly. You don’t even know if their target is you or Jake or maybe both of you.

But as you sat there, you know it’s no use confronting that person. You’re just preparing for Mr. Choi to call you and give you a suspension for not only lying to him — but also for breaking school rules. 

But it never happened. The whole morning passed by with ease. Classes acted like normal, you listened to your teacher’s lectures like there’s not a photo of you circulating around. 

During lunch time, you decided to just skip the rest of the day and go back to your home and maybe, cry all of it because even though you’ve become numb from the past few days of being shamed by everyone, this one is just the cherry on top of everything that happened. 

You know that the stare will be there the moment you exit your department building. You didn’t care about them anymore, they’ve been talking about you a few days ago, this one isn’t new to you at all. So you walked with your head high, not caring if they're talking about you. You know they don’t see you as the golden girl anymore and honestly, you don’t care about them either.

“Y/n!” you stopped your tracks when you felt someone grabbing your shoulder. Turning around to see Yunjin and Aera along with her boyfriend, Jay. 

“Hey,” Yunjin was first to hug you, followed by Aera which confused you but you could only melt to their hug, grateful for the sudden comfort. 

“Are you okay? You know what, I shouldn’t have said that,” Yunjin quickly said as she broke from the hug. 

“I’m fine, I’m just — I don’t care about what people say anymore, they don’t even know the whole story,” you explained. “How’s Jake?”

Both of them only stared at each other, and it made you raise an eyebrow.

“Is he okay?”

“Jake’s going to owe up everything,” Yunjin confessed. “He’s talking to Mr. Choi at the moment.”

You felt your ears deafening at the sudden revelation. “Wait — why!? Why would he do that? He’ll be suspended.”

“Why do you think so y/n?” Aera smiles at you, and for a moment, you were confused by it. Then it just sinked into your mind. 

“It’s not because of me isn’t it?” you slowly asked.

His roommates only exchanged a fair share of glances. — that’s when you knew. Your feet quickly turned around to run towards the office of the student affairs, while Yunjin and Aera watched as you disappeared in their sight. A small smile tugging both on their lips.

You were catching your breath as you reached the second floor. Turning left towards the long hallway where Mr. Choi’s office was. Sprinting towards there, your feet halted when the door swung open, revealing Jake who seemed to be at ease. 

The two of you stood there, staring at each other. For a minute, no one said a word but Jake looked at you and then smiled. 

“What did you do?” you asked, catching your breath.

“Everything’s settled now,” Jake simply said. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I’m not worried about myself, people are already calling me names Jake, I’m worried about you,” you pointed out. “What about your reputation? Your candidacy for valedictorian?”

“And let you take all the blame again? It’s fair that I’ll be punished too.”

“I don’t need you to that for me Jake, I don’t want to cause you trouble anymore —”

“It’s my fault in the first place why we’re here,” Jake owns up. “It’s right that I receive disciplinary action from it.”

“No —”

“It’s okay, it’s fair,” he assured. “You’re not going to be alone in this one. I won’t let you.”

At that moment, Jake slowly walked towards you who stood there frozen. You don’t know why but the moment Jake’s a step closer to you, you could only wrap your arms around him, face hiding against his chest as he embraces you warmly.

Even after everything that happened between the two of you, you feel like it felt right to be in Jake’s touch. You missed him so damn much. 

“I’m sorry.” you could only say.

“Don’t say that, I should be the one apologizing,” Jake insisted but that only made you hide in his touch. 

“What will happen to you?”

“They only gave me warning,” Jake heaves out a breath. “They’re looking for the photo leaker, and they might receive a bigger punishment for taking photos without consent and ruining Decelis’ image — Mr. Choi thinks that we were just kissing inside the club room.”

Then you realized, the angle of the photo made it look like you two aren’t doing something indecent, just a light makeout. You don’t know if you’ll be relieved hearing those words. 

“You okay?’ he asked you, hands on your back as he lightly rubs it. 

“Yeah,” you only nod.

There should be a relief in you. Everything’s all settled now. Jake only received a fair warning. He wasn’t suspended and owned up to everything. He took the blame but you still feel anxious, you couldn’t help but worry that there’s more to come. 

“Are you sure?” Jake asked once again.

“Of course,” you nodded once again. 

“Do you want to get away from here?” he asked, that’s when you look at him. 

“Can we?”

And the only thing Jake did was grab your hand, squeezing it tightly before giving you an assuring smile. 

-

You two found yourself at the same spot. It felt different going there during the afternoon. But the gentle breeze of spring dissolves completely the afternoon sun. Jake had parked the car on the side of the road. Noise of cicadas and rustling leaves gave nothing but quiet comfort. 

Sitting by the hood of the car, the two of you munched on the burgers that you two bought through a drive-thru. Eating in silence as no one has the courage to bring up the elephant in the room. 

You only stared at a huge city that almost became a solace for you for the past few years that you’ve been studying in Decelis. It felt vaguely weird to stare at it during the day. But you come to realise that in a few months, you’ll be deciding whether to go back to your hometown and work there or maybe stay in the city, opening another opportunity for you. 

“Looking at the city,” you mumbled quietly. “I realized that we’re just small — no, just a tiny part of a huge place. That there’s a thousand strangers there who don’t know us.” 

Then, it crossed your mind all the things that happened to you for the past few days. Making you bitterly laugh as you take a sip on your drink. 

“In the end, we’ll graduate in Decelis and everything that happened will just be a memory for everyone.” you added, but there’s a deep sigh escaping on your lips. “I know that but right now, it’s so shitty. It’s like suddenly, my dignity is gone — I only slept with eight guys throughout college! And three of them don't even study in Decelis!” 

Jake didn’t say a word. He only gazed at you as you munched on your burger angrily, smiling softly at your cute expression. 

“But you know what? I’m just convincing myself that in the end, these people don’t know me at all, and they can talk shit about me all they want, spread lies and false information, I don’t care about it anymore. At least I don’t badmouth other people the moment gossip spreads inside the campus.” 

Jake kept quiet. Watching you take a sip on your drink before taking a bite on your fries. Jake’s stare remained at you for a moment. Hearing nothing but the faint beating of his heart against the breeze of the night, Jake knew that you have a lot of resentment in your heart. And he could feel nothing but guilt with it.

Even if he had owed up the rumors and only received a warning, he knows that it wasn’t enough for you to forgive him. Jake looks at his half-bitten burger before glancing back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake started. “I’m sorry for causing harm to you, I shouldn’t have done it. And I’m sorry for lashing it out to you because the truth is, I was scared too.”

You remained glued to the view, but hearing that Jake was scared? That surprised you. It shocked you to hear that Jake, the person who you always considered as stoic and rational, was scared of something. 

“I thought, I don’t care about my title. That corny piece of title that only brings weight to my shoulders.” Jake spat, frustrated by the thought. “It’s not my fault that I’m like this, and it had me wondering, what would happen if they placed the title to the wrong person? Someone who isn’t who they think he is?”

Then, he lets out a bitter laugh. “What we did inside the club room was an impulsive idea. When we got caught, I was scared. I was afraid of disappointing people, and I realized I’m not going to let everything I’ve done become a waste just because of an impulsive idea.”

“Then I heard from Yunjin and Aera, that you took more damage than me. They were right, the whole day there weren’t any disgusting remarks about me — but you, you’re hearing worse and I pushed you away. I hurt you, I said words out of anger and told you I didn't care about you.”

“And I fucked up, I’m sorry I fucked up. You don’t have to accept my apology y/n but I’m sorry, I care for you — I don’t see you as my fuck buddy, you’re more than that and you know that. I just want to let you know that I didn’t mean every word that I’ve said back then.” 

“Is that why you confessed to Mr. Choi? Because you feel guilty of what happened? Did it ease your conscience when you did it?” you argued. 

“I did it because it’s the right thing to do,” Jake argued. “It’s my fault we’re here and I’m going to owe up to it, I didn’t do it just to clear my conscience.” 

You only laugh at his words, “wow, that’s so rational of you. You really are the golden boy, you even managed to save your image. Lucky you.”

Then, quietly you glanced at him. "You owning up to the rumors doesn’t change anything Jake. I’ll still be called a slut but this time with evidence, so I don’t know why you went through all that trouble when the damage has been done.”

“I don’t want you to get involved today, that’s why I told Mr. Choi, it was my idea,” Jake explained. “I don’t want your latin honors to be stripped away from you.”

“And in exchange, you let go of yours, Jake I don’t need you to do that,” you protested. 

“I know you don’t need to, but I want to,” Jake insisted. “Because you deserve it, you deserve to go up on stage and receive a medal. You’re the golden girl and you’re going to prove those who wronged you that you deserve that title.” 

You didn’t say a word, you only stared at Jake who only gave you a small smile. Cold wind passed by the two of you as you remained quiet because of Jake’s words. With everything that happened, you have completely lost the title. You don’t see yourself worthy of it and so does everyone.

“You really think so?” you asked. 

“You deserve it more than me,” Jake genuinely said. 

You wanted to cry, but all of your tears have dried up. So you gave him a bitter smile which made Jake stretch out his arms, and a small smile which you knew, so you scooted over him who only wrapped his arms around you. That’s when you felt at ease once again. Heart tired yet comforted when Jake’s warmth touches your skin.

“You’re more than just the golden girl y/n, you’re everything, remember that,” Jake breathes once again. 

“It’s hard to think of it when everyone doesn’t see you in that way anymore,” you let out a deep sigh.

“They’re just jealous of you,” Jake lightly teased, and that made you laugh.

“That’s right, they’re just probably jealous of me,” you lightly smiled. “In the end, I still have the title, my GPA's still higher than them. — and I’m just going to assume that those who talked shit most about me are virgins and guys with small dicks.”

That’s when Jake let out a laugh, making you laugh as you nuzzled more in his shoulders. 

“That’s a crazy thing to say.” 

“We’ll never know if it’s true or not,” you smiled. “Those guys who bragged sleeping with me, should be lucky because if I’m so petty, I would’ve shared a list and rated their dick and size performance.”

Jake hums, “I wonder what’s my rate in there.”

“Ten out of ten, you weren’t called the golden boy for nothing,” you sarcastically replied. 

Both of you burst into a fit of laughter. You could only feel Jake’s cheeks pressing against your head as silence hovered the two of you. A silent truce between the two of you was made. Both knew that there’s no point of arguing anymore since people will talk shit no matter what. 

“Do you think, if we don’t have our title, people wouldn’t bat an eye on what we did?” you asked out of blue.

Jake only hums, his hand patting your shoulders in soft beats. “People still talk.”

For a moment, you were quiet, then a frown formed on your lips. “A lot of students did it at the lover’s garden, but I don’t hear them dropping names.”

“Maybe it really has something to do with our reputation.” Jake concluded.

“I wonder what would happen if we told them the actual truth,” you blurted out. 

“Let’s not go there, I still want to graduate.”

And a chuckle escapes your lips. “So do I.”

“Maybe in five years or more, during homecomings. That’ll cause a stir.” Jake laughs, making you chuckle. “In the end, it’ll be just a small memory of our college life — but hey, at least we had a core memory.”

You two fall under silence once again. Enjoying the peaceful tranquility as slowly, the sun deepened and the city slowly started to fall to its golden hour. You could never be not in awe with the view, and you were glad that Jake brought you here. An escape from everything, somewhere in the middle of a small road, you suddenly remember the first time he brought you there.

“You know, this isn’t the right timing, but do you remember that time you brought me here the first time?” That's when you separated from his touch, looking at him with an innocent look.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I was really down for sex that time,” you laughed. “I was curious what car sex would be like.”

For a minute, you two were quiet before Jake could only let out a soft chuckle as he said “Get inside, backseat.”

Both of you jumped out of the hood of the car. Heart racing as you open the backseat, watching Jake open the car’s engine first, turning on the air conditioner before shuffling towards the backseat. 

Eager, you two immediately crash each other’s lips onto another. Teeth clashing, sloppy, and breath-stealing as Jake’s hand’s grab your waist and push you to lay down, head resting on the car's window as he continues to makeout with you. 

Hastily, you fumbled the belt of his slacks, pulling it down along with his boxers so that his cock sprang free from its strain. A soft gasp escaped his lips as you started stroking it fast and tight. You missed this. You missed his touch and the way he pounds inside you, you can already feel your core getting wet by the thought that you’ll be fucked by Jake again.

The two continued making out inside the car. Tasting each other's lips like you two were starved for years, it was rush and eager. The temperature started to rise, fogging the window as you two were too lost to care if any car might pass by and witness the obscenity inside the car. 

“To think we’re still wearing our school uniforms,” Jake mumbled between your kisses. His hands finding its way on your blouse, unbuttoning it hastily to reveal your pink bra which hugs your breast perfectly. 

“I guess this is the real scandal for us,” you teased before lightly grazing the tip of his cock on your clothed pussy. Soft moans escaped on each other’s lips as Jake couldn’t help but to rut against your cunt.

“I can’t wait anymore —”

“Me too, just fuck me Jake.”

Quick and hasty, Jake helped you slide down your panties until it hangs on your left ankle. One leg lifted on his shoulder while the other one was sprawled on the floor. 

It was cramped and small but your mind was now in haze. Jake was eager as he pushed his shaft inside you, your cunt pulsing on its bulbous head, as you forget how big his dick was, making you deeply gasp. You moaned loudly when Jake began thrusting inside you that the sudden pleasure left you choking on your breath. Mouth wide as you gasp for air — until Jake instinctively wrapped his hands around your neck, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. 

The car started creaking against the ground. Windows fogging up as your hand clasped on the windows while Jake continued pounding inside you. Bodies were starting to sweat, wetting and creasing your uniforms but the ministry didn’t stop. You two wanted to make up for the lost time, the pleasure becoming too intense that only cursed words and breathy sounds escape on each other’s lips. 

“Shit —” Jake cursed as he raises your hips and slams his cock at a new angle, earning a whimpering moan from you. “So good, all mine — want to make you mine.”

You gasp for air as those words haze your mind. “Jake —” 

“You don’t know how crazy you drive me y/n, shit —” Jake started blubbering words. Messy, word vomits as he continues pounding inside you. 

“You can’t just say that — ugh, hngh! while railing me —” you grabbed his tie, tugging him closer until he’s an inch close to your face. “It's not fair!”

Jake realized the words escaped his lips, he knew it was wrong and whatever you two have is still blurry. “Then forget it —” 

“No, fuck you! Is this real?” you snarled at him. “Jake, tell me, is this real?”

“I’m serious,” Jake answered immediately, and your eyes only widened. 

“Jake —”

“I’m fucking serious —” he presses his forehead on yours, thrusts turning into slow, sensual grinding, something that made you even fell his hard cock penetrate your walls full. “At some point, we’ve broked our setup the moment you we were together but didn’t fuck.”

“But pretended like we’re nothing —”

“And it kills me every damn time. You don’t know how it pains me to ignore you, to not cross boundaries but fuck — I want us to be something else aside from this set-up.”

You were stunned. You never thought that Jake would confess. You know that there were a lot of times were the lines were blurred, there were moments that were too intimate to be considered as something fuck buddies would do.

And you like every bit of it. You know that emotional attachment is prohibited, it’ll ruin your professional, monogamous set-up that’s only for the sake of pleasuring each other. 

But you’re ruined for Jake enough to not care about the rules. After everything that happened between the two of you, the least you could have was having him by your side, and it seems like the gods are in your favor because Jake is also in the same whirlwind as you are. 

“I like you too Jake,” you confessed to him. “The truth is I didn’t want to talk to you because I was scared of my feelings. I like you enough that I don’t want to cause you trouble anymore.”

“Fuck — and that had me spiraling, you’re ruining me you know?” and with that, Jake plants a kiss on your lips.

“What happened to being rational?”

“All gone the moment you let me fuck you,” a sharp thrust stabs your pussy, earning a moan from you as you look at Jake who only smiled at you. “All I need is your words baby, and you’ll be mine.”

“Take me Jake,” you told him. “Want to be yours.”

Jake moves his hips once again. Grabbing your other legs as he folds it onto your chest, slipping out his cock and slamming it with one sharp thrust, earning a loud moan from you. 

He continued pounding on you harshly. The new angle hitting your sensitive spot which made you cry further in pleasure. Jake grunts as he stabs your tight, warm walls with his huge length nonstop. Pride swelling inside him as your juices started to coat his dick. 

“Fuck!” you mewled, stretching out the word as you felt your stomach knotting in a pit.

“You’re gonna cum now? Cream my cock baby, show me who owns this pussy,” Jake ordered as he continued thrusting inside you. 

The car creaked more aggressively as you reached your orgasm, crying loudly as Jake followed after. Groaning loudly as warm cum painted your walls white. He brings down your legs after a few seconds, lightly massaging your thighs as he hovers over you and peppered your face with kisses.

“You did good, baby,” Jake whispered to you, kissing you on the lips softly while you only whined as he pulled out from your pussy.

“We’re not doing this ever again,” you told him, and that made him stop, surprised by your words. “It’s too cramped! I’d rather be in bed, at least we’re comfy there.”

It took a minute for Jake to sink what you said before laughing and kissing your temples. “Ever thought of trying it in the kitchen? Maybe you’ll let me eat you —”

“Not going to happen,” you gritted your teeth. “God, were still acting like we’re fuck buddies.”

“At least we can finally act as lovers now,” Jake teasingly said before hovering you once again for a deep kiss. Full of love and yearning for you. 

-

Epilogue.

The huge convention hall was filled with thousands of graduating students. Wearing their best formal dresses and suits, the atmosphere was lively and bolstering with noise and excitement. 

It was the annual graduation night. The opening for the university’s graduation season. Every graduating student was invited to celebrate the end of their college life — and the beginning of another chapter in their life. It was their last night to socialize and meet new people. 

You entered the hall clad in a long maroon dress that gives your body a silhouette along with a pearl set from your mother. But that wasn’t the reason all heads turned to you.

Next to you was Jake, heavenly to look at with his black button-up, sleeves folded revealing his strong arms, right hand holding your left hand. He stood there proud with his clean brush-up hair, suiting his sharp godlike face along with his black-rimmed glasses. 

After you two decided to be together, your relationship remained a secret since you two don’t want to add fuel to the fire even though you two don’t care about each other’s damaged reputation anymore. You two remained professional inside the campus, no glances or subtle touches, which made everyone assume that the photo is just a hoax since you and Jake kept quiet about it. 

The rumors disappeared after a few weeks. You heard that the photo owner got suspended due to some violations. Whatever Jake negotiated with Mr. Choi worked in your favor. People still talk, but you’ve learned to prioritize your peace and just let people wander. 

Yet, you were still a petty girl inside. So you two dropped the bomb during the graduation night by attending it with Jake, close like lovers and it made everyone wonder — what’s the deal between the two of you? Were you two together because you two hold the same title? Or were the rumors actually true?

As their eyes remained at you two, you could only smile as you focused on the photographer’s words, telling you to pose like lovers which only made you smirk before resting your head on Jake who instinctively placed his hands on your waist while the two of you posed for the camera. Jake heed no attention to the strangers around, all he thinks is that tonight is a night of celebration with you and his close friends. 

All eyes remained at you two as you walked towards your reserved table where Jake’s close friends and roommates were seated, watching the scene unfold earlier. 

“You guys know how to make an entrance,” Jay teased, arms resting on Aera’s chair who’s smiling ear to ear. “You guys beat Heeseung and Jiwon in stealing tonight’s attention.”

“A few months ago, you two got caught into some scandal, now you decided to attend the night together? You guys are just stirring the rumor again,” Heeseung obliviously laughed, the whole table was laughing but Jake and you only glanced at his roommates who were holding back their laugh.

“Let people wander,” you only smiled. 

While waiting for the program to start, you only socialized within the table. Listening to their stories and jokes, you find yourself laughing at the embarrassing things they share, especially when it involves your boyfriend who only looks away with a small smile on his face. His hands rested lightly on your thigh while both your hands circled around it. Fidgeting with the rings on it, giving you a sense of comfort on it.

“Just in time, you two are here!” the two of you turned around to see Yunah, the new editor-in-chief of Decelis Publications, approaching your table. “We’re interviewing graduating students for our post, and of course, we couldn’t miss interviewing you two.”

Jake glanced at you who only smiled at the girl. “Sure, we don’t mind.”

You two follow Yunah at a corner where it wasn’t that crowded, she explains how it’ll be done, giving you two one question: what’s the one thing that you’ll miss in Decelis?

“The student aid,” Jake answered without any hesitation. “They helped me during my freshman year, and I’ve been with them from the start. I hope that the new set of officers will continue the act of helping each other and becoming a support system to our students.”

Yunah only smiled at them, “as expected from the president of the organization, how about you ms. y/n?”

“Same with me! I’ll miss helping students and its communal unity, the organization is a safe space and I hope it continues to do so, especially to incoming freshmen.” you explained. 

“That’s such a wonderful answer from both of you. It’s no wonder that the students this year were at ease. Both of you were in charge of the organization,” Yunah shared, and that thought eases your heart. 

“It’s not just us, but it’s the whole organization who made an effort,” Jake rebutted, and you only nodded in agreement.

Yunah only smiled as she jots down the answer. “Okay, I have a bonus question just only for the two of you. Since you two currently hold the title of the ‘golden boy’ and ‘golden girl,’ who are you eyeing to pass the title to?”

But both you and Jake only looked at each other, a meaningful smile before glancing back at Yunah who’s waiting for your answer. 

“We don’t know honestly,” you laughed. “You have to earn it, and it’s not something we can pass to someone. But to whoever will be the next after us, I hope they wear it with confidence.”

“And, don’t let it be a weight that you’ll have to carry. They gave it to you because they know you deserve it, just like what y/n said, wear it with confidence.” Jake added.

“Woah, no wonder the title was given to the two of you,” Yunah said. “Thank you for the interview, but between you two and me, are you two together?” “We’ll keep that one a secret.” you winked.  

The program started a few minutes later. A few messages from the directors and administrators of the university, inducing a warm applause from the students. It was followed by the formal proclamation of the awards and student leaders while food was served to every table. 

One by one, the people at your table would go up and receive their honors. You could only smile as they receive their achievements with a smile. Soon, the table was filled with certificates and glass trophies.

“And for this year’s batch valedictorian,” the director announced. You only looked at Jake as your hands found his, fingers intertwining as a stranger’s name was called by the director. A pity smile was all you can give but Jake squeezes your hands. 

“It’s okay,” Jake smiled, knowing that it wasn’t his goal. “I’m still the valedictorian of the engineering department.”

You only laughed at his comment, watching him tug your clasped hands near his heart. “Plus, you're mine now, and I think that's a bigger win than being the batch’s valedictorian.”

A smile and blush on your face was all he could see before you looked away. “I hate you and your flowery words Jake Sim.”

“I love you too,” he whispered to your ears, making you smile before stealing a kiss on his cheeks, taking it as an opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder. Feeling at ease as you listen to the student’s speech.

“Hey, do you wanna know when I knew that I had fallen for you?” Jake asked out of blue. 

You hummed for a second, curiosity killing you. “Shoot.”

“It was when I saw you talking to Yunjin and Aera by the dining table,” Jake answered. “I remembered how you said your friends aren’t around, and seeing you laughing with them, I don’t know, it feels like you fit with them.”

You felt your heart swelling with joy as you looked up at Jake who only had his boyish smile. 

“Jake, that was so sweet — I can’t believe you would think of that,” you smiled, eyes gleaming bright as your free hand found its way to Jake’s nape, brushing his hair delicately. “Wanna know mine?”

“Go on,” he grins. 

“When we had sex at the club room,” you straightforwardly said, watching Jake’s eyes widen and smile turning into a thin line. 

“Kidding! It was when you didn’t want to have sex with me because I was vulnerable,” you explained, the teasing smile on your face shifted into a genuine one. “It made me realise that there are guys who still respect me even if I'm okay with it.” 

Jake could only scoff in disbelief before pinching your cheeks, making you whine as he grins teasingly. “So somewhere in our setup we really broke the rules.”

“And I’m glad we did,” you stated, tapping the end of his nose. “And I’m kinda glad you confessed first because I’ll most likely bring my feelings for you to my grave.”

“It was a swirl of the moment!” Jake rebutted, and it only made you laugh. “What happened to ‘it’s proven that college couples break up after graduation?’” you reminded.

And before he could answer, Jake steals a short kiss on your lips, surprising you as the smirk on his lips formed. “We’ll prove it wrong then.”

[aeribbon]

target acquired | oscar piastri

summary; part two here the only thing more dangerous than your job is dating an f1 driver in secret and oh...! oscar is just trying to survive lando's gossip group chat

featuring; f1driver!oscar piastri x bau agent!f!reader

fc; yu jimin

warnings; english isn't my first language + not proof read YET !

an; requested here i tried lol i don't really know a lot about bau/fbi hope you like it !! i have my finals exams next week hurfezpIPFJ

navigation masterlist request

part two here

texts between lando, charles, carlos, george, ollie, pierre, max, alex → oscar

texts between oscar → you

instagram post

f1paddocktea - miami gp

liked by yourusername, yourfriend and 98k others !

f1paddocktea a mysterious girl was seen arriving at the paddock with a part of oscar's team and then headed to the mclaren motorhome ! could this be oscar's girlfriend 💌 ? if you have any more info please send us an email.

view all comments

username she didn’t even look lost. first time in the paddock and she knew where to go. that’s suspicious

username someone said she flashed a badge at some haters. IS THIS A JOKE

username this is giving criminal minds x drive to survive crossover energy and i’m living for it

username she's the badass girl we all want to be omg

username she gave the vibes of someone who has disarmed a man before. with one hand. while texting.

username we have nothing on her. no tagged pics. no pap shots. no soft launch. WHO IS SHE ??

username for real though, never seen someone with zero to none presence online this is so suspicious.

anonymouswagupdates unconfirmed but someone from hospitality said she “doesn’t eat during cases” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN 😭

username i saw her. black boots, dark sunglasses, zero expression. that’s not a random plus one, that’s a mission...

texts between charles, george, ollie and lando

instagram post

kymillman - miami gp

liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 298k others !

kymillman a first official appearance for oscar piastri and his girlfriend in the f1 paddock ahead of today's race !

view all comments

username DAMN

username nvm oscar i don't want you but YOUR GF ??

username never knew oscar had the game to pull of this beauty

username SO YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE’S BEEN IN THE PADDOCK THIS WHOLE TIME?? she's giving secret agent fr

landonorris what you know about that ?

oscarpiastri lando please behave

username she blinked and ferrari fumbled a strategy call. coincidence?? I THINK NOT.

username this explains the sudden confidence boost this season 😌

mclaren our driver’s safe and emotionally supported... and also heavily protected apparently

username she shows up and he wins once again ?? pls come to every race from now on

username YES PLEASE

georgerussell plot twist: oscar’s actually the emotional support boyfriend in this relationship

olliebearman be careful on your words with oscar she might come and get you

username i love how we are all acting as if she’s not here for the grid drama but she’s here to assess threat levels and kiss her man after podium.

username i meannnnnn

texts between lando, charles, carlos, george, ollie, pierre, max, alex → oscar

[sl-ut]

i like it better

was gonna wait to post this but i decided to go ahead with it in honour of me graduating with my bachelor’s degree (first gen. university grad!!!) yesterday and starting my new job today!!! i watched thunderbolts* last week and i loved it and i love bob even more.

pairing: robert “bob” reynolds x fem!enhanced!reader

description: every member of the thunderbolts* are struggling with having friends for the first time in… ever, for the most part. the team is shocked to find out that, for some reason, bob is having the easiest time with it. aka, four times the team notices a budding romance, and one time they all realize they’re late to the conclusion.

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS* but not crazy so read at your own risk, reader DOES have a backstory but it’s not detailed in this (i’m considering making this a non-chronological or plot-based series about this pairing i love them smmmm pls lmk if i would be wasting my time or not lol), golden retriever x black cat vibes, slight age gap (r is early-mid 20s, i assume bob is supposed to be late 20s maybe early 30s?), reader has similar powers to wanda–lightly detailed in this fic, swearing, mentions of past addictions and substance use, reader has BEEF w john walker and everyone loves it, READER REFERRED TO BY CODENAME PANDORA

words: 6.4K

date posted: 16/5/25

Despite all of their differences, the Avengers had been able to establish a certain level of respect and friendliness amongst one another–Bucky wasn’t sure of how they had been able to do it. From what he’d heard and experienced, Steve and Tony had butt heads with one another more times than they could count, and that’s saying a lot considering that one of them was a self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist. Clint seemed to be a wild card, not often around enough to be on anyone’s permanent bad side, while Natasha was notoriously good at playing both sides with every member of the team. Bucky Barnes was certain that he would not have lasted more than a week with that crew before they were tearing each other apart, which was quite evident in the way that the team quite literally tore themselves apart when he came into the picture, but somehow, some way, a group of assassins, super soldiers, and gods were able to find some sort of commonality for the sake of team morale, so why couldn’t he do the same with this team?

He inarguably had more in common with this group than Steve had with the others. He, Yelena, and Alexei were highly trained assassins; he and John both super soldiers who, at one point, worked for the U.S. government; he and Ava were both the results of some lab experiments thanks to SHIELD aka HYDRA and both had a tendency to stick to themselves; he and Bob–well, he wasn’t sure that he had anything in common with Bob aside from the crippling mental illness that accompanied a not entirely consensual superhero lifestyle. However, there was one final member of the team that he had more in common with than any of the rest, and she was the one he found the most difficult to break through to. 

The girl had been saved from a HYDRA base not too long after the Battle of Sokovia, where she’d been held hostage and used as a lab experiment for the vast majority of her life. She was only a kid then, barely old enough to have a valid driver's license, but Steve had taken her under his protection just as he had done with Bucky. Her powers had been unstable, a failed attempt to recreate the exact abilities of Wanda Maximoff without the use of the mind stone, but when Steve, Nat, and Bucky had been forced to go on the run, Shuri was able to create some sort of blockers for her mind, to isolate her abilities from use so she no longer had to fear losing control. Now, here he was over five years later, compact onto a superhero team with her, though she no longer the tortured child he had once promised his best friend that he would protect, and he wasn’t entirely certain as to how she had regained her powers, but she had grown to have a steely wall between herself and the other New Avengers, as they had been deemed, especially with him.

On one hand, he could understand that the girl had been traumatized, much like he had, but instead having no fond childhood memories to look back on except for the few months that she had been able to stay at the Avengers Compound with Steve. But on the other hand, he was growing increasingly frustrated with the attitude that she had developed–snarky, bratty, and bold; the teenage phase that she’d been denied of now surfacing during her twenties. She could be unpredictable, either making her presence known through witty comments or ignoring any of their existences, which made it especially stange to Bucky when he began to pick up on certain tendencies she had when it came to Bob. 

If Bucky were asked to describe Bob in three words, they would be um, uh, and nice. Bob was the nicest of the group, though that was no great feat when you considered exactly what sort of people had been assembled into the team, but Bucky knew relatively little about him. He was the most dangerous of them all without question, but still for whatever reason had settled into the role as a walking punching bag with little fight. He was awkward, easily embarrassed, an easy target for the others to pick at when he did something wrong. When they had all initially moved into the tower, he was the only one who had made much of an effort to befriend anyone, but he could never seem to hold eye contact with the fiery young woman in fear of taking a verbal lashing, like the others often did, and yet he never did. 

In fact, while he made an effort to avoid being in her path, she more often than not diverted it so that he was her final destination. On an empty floor of the tower where she could isolate herself just about anywhere, as she normally would choose to do, she would seek out wherever he was and silently join him in whatever he was doing.

The first time Bucky noticed it, he was returning from the gym. He’d sent a nod in Bob’s direction as he stepped out of the elevator, then halted in his tracks as his gaze shot back to the scene before him; she was curled up on one end of the couch, legs tucked beneath her as her eyes scanned the pages of the novel in her lap, meanwhile Bob had taken up the space at the other end of the couch, sitting so stiff that Bucky wondered if the girl had held him at gunpoint just before Bucky entered the room. She didn’t even spare the super soldier a glance, only turning the page as he sent a questioning look to the shaggy-haired man, whose eyes widened even further in an effort to convey his own uncertainty with her presence.

Bucky moved on, stepping into the kitchen just across the room to find himself something to snack on, making sure to keep a close eye on the girl–he wasn’t sure whether or not he should start planning Bob’s funeral.

Bob finally broke the awkward silence, stunning the man in the kitchen. Bob had relatively stuck to the practice of speaking when spoken to, but Bucky was certain that he’d never seen Bob speak to her since moving into the tower. 

“I can put something else on, if you want,” he smiled awkwardly at her, eyes flickering between her and the screen, “I’m not really watching it anyways.”

“Don’t be stupid, Bob,” she said as she glanced up at him, and Bucky was certain he saw the slightest curve of her lips as she met Bob’s gaze, “you’re like halfway through. I like this one, anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes moved to the flatscreen on the wall, across from where they were seated, brow furrowing in confusion as his thoughts tumbled through his lips before he could truly process them, “You told me you hated this movie when I watched it last week.”

Her gaze turned to him, sharpening as she narrowed her eyes, “Maybe I just hate when you watch it.”

Bob’s face flushed red as she turned back to her book without another word, awkwardly sipping on his glass of pop as Bucky frowned. He shook his head at the young woman, having learned to let her words roll off his back rather than letting them fester, snatching the first thing he found in the fridge and fleeing the scene, praying that Bob did not ruin whatever sort of good mood he’d put her in so that this wouldn’t be the last time he saw him. 

***

Alexei was the kind of guy that people either loved or hated. He could be loud, obnoxious, sometimes even straight up belligerent, and had possibly the worst ability to read the room that anyone had ever seen. However, he was the most outwardly friendly member of the team, oftentimes being the leading force behind any group activities. He was still a target of the young woman, of course, but rather than taking it as a personal offense, as he mocked Bucky and John for doing, he found some enjoyment in the girl’s taunting. Any time one of her digs was sent his way, she was met with boisterous laughter and usually some sort of unnecessary physical contact. 

He understood very little when it came to the lives of young women, but he was a girl dad at heart. She somewhat reminded him of his Natasha when she was a young girl–which made more sense to him when he discovered that she had been taken in by the late Black Widow and her teammates before the blip. He found himself flocking to her more than any of the others–save for Yelena, of course, claiming that he had no interest in training with anyone but the strongest of the New Avengers.

He came to understand the regular routines of the others who lived in the tower, especially when it came to who was going to be in the training facility and when. He liked that she tended to go later in the morning, allowing him to sleep in later than if he were looking to spar with any of the others, usually sauntering in with a loud greeting, jokingly challenging her to a spar that he would inevitably lose. The Red Guardian was a force to be reckoned with, but no amount of serum could fight off this sort of power. Truthfully, he would have hoped to take on Sentry again, but Bob and the others had been very adamant that Sentry was not to be brought back until they found a way for Bob to better control his abilities, and the young woman was the next best thing. 

Sparring usually ended with the large Russian knocked on his ass, barely having landed a single swing at his opponent as she stood on the opposite end of the mat, barely a drop of sweat on her brow and the only sign of fatigue having been a result of using her powers. Though, as they returned to the main common area afterwards, Alexei would always announce to the others that he had been bested, but it had been a well-fought match. 

“I almost had her,” He grinned as he took a long drink out of the liquor bottle he’d conjured up out of seemingly nowhere, “next time I win, you will see.”

“I’m sure,” the girl droned, turning to where Ava sat at the dining table, “where’s Bob?”

Ava shrugged, raising a brow curiously, “Haven’t seen him. Why?”

“I told him we would go get bagels.”

“I would love to get bagels,” Alexei rose back up to his feet, “I will join.”

“No you won’t,” The girl turned sharply on her heel, “I think you could have better things to do than bother me all day.”

The Guardian, undeterred by her words, chuckled joyously, “Of course, of course. Bring me blueberry.”

As if he had sensed that she had been looking for him, Bob appeared in the doorway of the common area, eyes flickering between Alexei and Ava with a breathy hi before he turned his attention to the woman standing with her arms crossed. His face flushed under her intimidating stare as he began to wring his fingers in front of him nervously.

“Hi,” he breathed.

“Hi,” she echoed back to him, “I was just looking for you.”

If possible, he blushed even more, the pink tint of his cheeks deepening into a burnt shade of red, “Oh, uh, you were?”

Ava tilted her head curiously at his reaction, not entirely sure if Bob was nervous or petrified at her words, though she wouldn’t blame him for either.

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “You still want a bagel or what?”

Relief streaked across his face as he realized why the girl had been looking for him, “Oh, yeah, yeah. Whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, pushing past his figure in the doorway, “Good, I’m starving. Let me grab my coat.”

The moment she was out of earshot, or so he assumed, Alexei called out to Bob to grab his attention, “Psst, Bob. Bring me bagel. Blueberry.”

Bob smiled awkwardly before he nodded, jumping as the girl appeared beside him once more, now bundled in a soft brown coat, taking his hand in her own as she all but dragged him towards the elevator without another glance to the others. Bob turned quickly to offer a bashful wave to his teammates before they disappeared around the corner. 

Ava huffed as they left her sight, “Now what was that about?”

Alexei looked at her with his brow furrowed, crossing his thick arms over his chest, “What? I wanted bagel.”

***

Contrary to Bucky’s belief, the young woman actually did consider some of her teammates to be her friends. While her words were often interpreted as nasty insults that were better left ignored, something that she was more apt to respect was the way that Yelena and Ava were able to give it back to her. It was a respect that they earned from her, and she them, leading to a friendship based on past traumatic experiences and forced proximity. When she wasn’t revelling in her loneliness, she was usually in the company of one of the two older women–or her most recent choice of companion, but even then, it did not mean she had given up her frequent enjoyment of alone time. 

Yelena was an early riser, often having slept barely two hours the night before. The three women had spent the last week on an assignment, only returning an hour earlier. The plane made for a rough sleep, though the black eye that Yelena was sporting certainly didn’t help.

She entered the kitchen, finding Ava already seated at the dining table as she dug into a plate heaped with an assortment of breakfast foods. The counter was decorated with a few larger plates piled with eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast served up buffet-style. Behind the counter, Bob was muttering to himself as he messed with the new espresso machine that Bucky had ordered.

“Morning,” the Russian sighed, wasting no time in piling her own plate with food. She’d survived on granola bars and beef jerky for the last week, so a hot, home-cooked breakfast was a vision akin to heaven in her eyes, even if it had been made by Bob–he was getting better, but he was no Gordon Ramsay. 

He turned to glance over his shoulder, smiling softly at the sight of the blonde, “Oh, hi Yelena. How was the mission?”

 “It was okay, boring. Way too easy,” she eyed him curiously as he turned back to the machine, “I thought you didn’t drink coffee, Bob.”

Ava smirked as she spoke through a mouthful of eggs, “It’s for his girlfriend.”

He whirled around at this, eyes wide as a familiar red flush crept up his neck and crawled across his cheeks. His mouth gaped at the two women, seemingly unable to string together the words to defend himself from their taunting stares.

“She’s not–I’m–We–”

“Oh my god,” Yelena laughed, “I had no idea you had it in you, Bob.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“No, but you want her to be,” Ava added. “You love her.”

“Who loves who?” Alexei appeared in the kitchen as well, eyes lighting up at the sight of the prepared spread of food, clapping Bob on the shoulder before loading up his own plate, “Bob, I could kiss you.”

“No one loves no one,” Bob frowned, stammering over his words, “I mean, we–”

“Bob loves Pandora,” Ava said again to Alexei, who made a noise of approval through his mouthful of food.

“Oh, this?” Alexei asked, “This I already know.” 

The other third all turned to him in bewilderment, exclamations of surprise leaving their mouths.

“You knew and didn’t tell me?” Yelena asked, a look of betrayal on her face as she launched a piece of toast at her father.

“He doesn’t know anything,” Bob demanded, looking like he could faint at any moment, “she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever you say, Bob,” Yelena chuckled, finally tucking into her food with the exact excitement of someone who hadn’t eaten a hot meal in a week. 

Then came the woman in question, floating in through the kitchen like a spirit with her hair wet from the long, hot bath she’d taken upon their return. The others froze, unsure of whether she had heard what they had been talking about prior to her entry. She wore a pair of black leggings, tucked into a pair of long wool socks beneath her favourite pair of slippers, torso hidden beneath a worn grey sweatshirt–one that Bob was able to recognize all too well. 

“Morning,” he beamed at her, her presence seemingly soothing the embarrassment he’d been faced with as a result of their acknowledgment of his feelings for her, “I, uh, I made breakfast. And coffee, how you like it.”

The girl peered up at him before reaching for the mug that he had offered in her direction, taking a slow sip before a small smile crawled onto her lips as she thanked him. The others watched as she turned to put together her own breakfast, but their eyes were all trained on the shaggy-haired man, following his own gaze as he observed her silently, mulling over her wet hair, down the slopes of her cheeks while they glistened in the soft morning light from her hydrating skin care routine. Her shoulders, covered in the heavy sweatshirt that he wasn’t even sure of how or when she had taken it out of his closet. 

To Bob, she was always the most gorgeous woman on earth, whether she wore her fitted suit or bundled up to combat the bitter nature of New York City, but he always found her the most beautiful when she was home, dressed comfortably and considerably less guarded, where he got to really know her for more than her own trust issues. When she made herself malleable to love, where she allowed him past her guarded walls. Everything that they’d each experienced in the past, all of the trauma that they’d been forced to endure–it was all out in the open and safe, both learning to rely on one another’s presence to feel fully at ease. The only bit his team members were wrong about was about her being his girlfriend–they’d never gotten quite that far, so they had never even made their feelings clear to one another. He wanted more, but he was happy to take things as slow as she needed. 

Ava and Yelena exchanged a glance across the table, flickering between the pair as they joined them at the table, Bob finally picking at his own breakfast as he settled into the seat next to her. He seemed content as they both tucked into their food, silently sharing a few glances as the others finally changed the topic of conversation. 

Though none of them were ready to let Bob away with this for much longer. 

***

John Walker was inarguably the least liked member of the New Avengers, not that he did very much to help with that. He was rude to his teammates, often quite selfish, and quite possibly the most arrogant man in New York City. For someone who boasted about his achievements in the military and as team captain of his high school football team, you might think that he might put some more effort behind his ability to work as a team. After taking on the role of Captain America, however, John quickly learned that he didn’t tend to play well with others. 

When he’d first moved into the tower, he had assumed that, having once already housed the former team of Avengers, there would be ample space for the entire team without encroaching on his personal space. While that was generally true, one thing that John couldn’t help but notice was that, particularly at night, his enhanced hearing often picked up any sounds on his floor, mainly from the neighbouring bedroom, which belonged to Bob. This meant that he was subjected to Bob’s insistent pacing, humming, and occasional snoring when he finally fell asleep, but more recently he had noticed a particular increase in talking. He wasn’t able to make out any words or phrases being said, but the muffled sound of his voice was enough to keep him up at night. He had even brought it up to Bob with a lingering concern of him speaking to Sentry at night, as he’d been known to do before, only to be met with a sputtering, blushing mess, claiming to just be sleeptalking. 

One night, though, John had had enough. The talking, the giggling, John could not figure out what the hell Bob could possibly have going on to sound so happy at two in the morning, but he was going to put an end to it. 

His fist met the door with force, not caring about whether or not he might be waking up any of the others as he impatiently waited for Bob to answer the door, though his anger quickly dissipated into utter confusion as the door swung open to reveal the one person in the world who he actively avoided interacting with. 

“Can I help you, Walker?”

He squinted his eyes at her, taking in her appearance as she stood before him in her pyjamas, hair pushed out of her face by a fluffy leopard print headband and her face coated in some slimy green substance, “Uh, yeah. Where’s Bob?”

The door creaked open a little further to reveal the man in question, appearing at her side with a matching green sludge on his face with his own shaggy brown hair pushed away with a similar fluffy blue headband. 

He smiled bashfully at the supersoldier at the door, “Oh, hi John. What’s up?”

Walker’s eyes flickered between the pair, brow furrowed in surprise, “If I cared a little more I might ask the same thing. It’s two a.m., can this not wait?”

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, “It can’t actually.”

Bob’s eyes widened in shock at her defiance, “I mean, we’re almost done–”

“No we’re not,” she interrupted him, “we’ve still got five steps left in our skincare routine.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” John asked, his patience wearing impossibly thin, “Could you two just finish braiding each other’s hair and shut up already?”

“And why don’t you go take a nap on the freeway?”

“Woah–hey,” Bob bit back his own laugh at the girl’s words, wanting to both deescalate the building tension and stay on her good side; altercations between these two usually only ended one way, which was John a beating without the young woman having to so much as lift a finger. “We’re almost done, Walker. Hell, we’d probably be done by now if it weren’t for this conversation.”

John looked at Bob in surprise as the girl let out a sharp laugh, equally shocked at his words. Bob could be quite snarky when he wanted to be, but he was also somewhat of a peacemaker among his teammates; these weren’t the type of people where fighting would result in bad blood and arguments, it could end in the destruction of the building and a funeral or two. But, that didn’t mean he was unable to have his own issues with his teammates, and one thing he was truly tired of was taking so much shit from the man who was Captain America for all of two minutes.

“You heard him, Walker,” she smirked up at him victoriously, “beat it. We’ll keep it down, wouldn’t want you to miss out on your precious beauty sleep. Lord knows you need it.”

The door slammed shut, rattling with the force of it as it narrowly missed the tip of his nose. The trek back down the hall felt fuzzy to John as he pondered the interaction he’d just had with the pair, even as he laid in the darkness of his room. 

What was she doing in his room at this hour? Since when are they so close? Was Bob wearing a face mask? Why–

What in God’s name are those noises?

***

Valentina had always been a nuisance to the members of the New Avengers, even long before the team even existed. Sure, her involvement in their lives was what had brought them together and helped form a certain bond between them, and had she not done so then there would not have been anyone there to defend New York City from Sentry–though there also wouldn’t be a Sentry if it weren’t for Valentina either. But now that she wasn’t even truly in control of the New Avengers, she still seemed to be keeping one hand on the wheel at all times. 

The personalities of the team didn’t match up very well. Most of them were explosive, manipulative, and deeply traumatized, but one thing that Valentina seemed to put extra importance behind was the idea of team bonding time to promote better unity. In truth, she didn’t really care whether the team got along or not, she just wanted to ensure that they were perceived as unified by the public and by potential threats.

Thus brought the team to be sitting in the living room, arranged in a circle around the wooden coffee table with a deck of cards arrayed across the surface. Nothing brought a group of individuals together like a game of Uno, right? Well, when the individuals were specially trained to conspire and betray one another, perhaps that wasn’t the case. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Bucky groaned as the young woman dropped yet another plus four into the centre pile, “there’s no way you’re not cheating. Where are you getting all of these cards?”

“Magic,” she said, shrugging as she took the last swig from her can of Diet Coke. 

The Winter Soldier let out a sharp exhale through his nose before reaching out to pluck four more cards from the quickly dwindling deck. Next to him, Yelena barely paid attention to the game as she tossed her own card down, eyes trained on the man across from her as he shifted nervously under her stare. Bob wasn’t entirely sure of why Yelena and Ava had been so aggressively staring him down all evening, but he had a feeling that it had something to do with his feelings for the younger woman sitting next to him, he was only hoping that they wouldn’t be bold enough to bring it up in front of the rest of the team–especially her.

Pandora pushed herself back onto her haunches, fingers curling around the empty can as she glanced over at him, nodding at his nearly empty glass of water, “Want another?”

A small, bashful smile curved onto his lips, nodding graciously as she grabbed his glass and stood to her full height, turning to head towards the kitchen. 

“I could use another beer,” John called after her, shaking his empty bottle in her direction.

“Great, the fridge is full of them whenever you’re ready,” she didn’t even spare him a glance over her shoulder as she turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

Without missing a beat, Yelena leaned forward. For a moment, Bob thought she was about to reach across the table to peek at the missing girl’s abandoned cards that she had set on the table, so he quickly reached out and pressed his hand against the cards to keep them firmly in their place. 

Yelena looked at him in confusion for a moment, which quickly developed into an expression of betrayal, “Bob! You thought I was going to cheat? Who do you think I am?”

His eyes widened as he registered the offense in her voice, quickly moving his hand away, “Oh, sorry. It just, I don’t know, looked like you were.”

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

“You told me not to,” he stared blankly at her. 

She scowled at him, but waved it off, “Have you done anything yet?”

“Done what?” John inserts himself.

“None of your business,” Ava scolded him before turning back to Bob, “well?”

A bloom of red pinched at Bob’s cheeks as he shook his head, “N-no I haven’t. There’s nothing to do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bucky asked, glancing between the two women and Bob. 

Bob watched Bucky nervously as Yelena vaguely described the investigation that she and Ava had taken upon themselves to conduct. Regardless of the current state of their relationship, Bucky had known the girl since she was a teenager, and had promised his “late” best friend that he would watch out for her, so he was still considerably protective over her (though anytime he tried to show any sign of this he would have a near encounter with the nearest and heaviest object she could hurl his way). 

Bucky’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he turned his gaze to Bob, “You and her? No way.”

Bob furrowed his brow in concern, “I mean, is–I don’t think it’s that outrageous.”

“I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t been hearing them in his room at all hours of the night,” John chimed in, resting his chin on his closed fist as he portrayed his sudden interest in the topic. 

“What?” The others all exclaimed in unison, turning frantically from John to Bob, who’s entire face and neck were now burning. 

“We were just doing skincare!”

Yelena barked out a laugh while Bucky furrowed his brow impossibly further, lips curling in confusion. 

“Come on now, Bobby,” John grinned condescendingly, “you and I both know that’s not true.”

“It is,” Bob demanded, “look, I don’t know what you want me to say but–”

“What’re you guys talking about?” the girl in question asked as she rounded the corner again, resuming her seat on the floor as she placed two fresh glasses of water on the table, one in front of Bob and one for herself. 

The New Avengers all shared an uncertain glance. Sure, they could out Bob right then and there, and the deed would be done. They would become a couple and the team could be spared the next however many weeks before Bob finally explodes from infatuation. Or, of course, they could out him and then have to deal with the aftermath of the young woman not reciprocating his feelings, destroying the strongest relationship that both of them had been able to make since joining the team, and taking away the only calming factor that either of them were able to find to subdue their powers. It was a gamble, and for most of them, it probably wasn’t worth–

“We’re talking about Bob’s love for you, of course!” Alexei roared, joining the conversation for the first time since she’d left–he, of course, had chosen straight vodka for his drink of choice, and while it was nearly impossible for him to get drunk off of it, he’d been able to get his hands on just enough to make him tipsy.

The entire team stared at the large Russian man in disbelief. He’d been half asleep for the last hour, having spent a large majority of the afternoon convincing every member of the team to come spar with him. A cobalt blue shimmer surrounded the young woman for only a second, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared–a reaction of her shock and slight embarrassment, akin to Bob’s beet red cheeks. 

“Dad!” Yelena hissed, “you weren’t supposed to tell her.”

Bob stuttered a slow response, a few jumbled words that truly didn’t make any sense whatsoever. The others sat quietly, soaking in the suddenly chokingly awkward air in the room while Alexei argued to defend himself. 

“What?” he asked, then turned back to the girl, “I tell truth, he talks about you all the time.”

She was silent for a moment, narrowed eyes scanning her teammates so closely that they were a little concerned that she was about to snap on them.

“Well, I would hope so. We’ve been together for months.”

“What?” Bucky barked.

Yelena scoffed out a weak, “Since when?”

“You have?” Ava jolted forward in shock, while John choked on his last swig of beer. 

“We have?”

She turned to meet the wide, teary eyes of Bob. Her expression softened as she took in his appearance, lips appearing dry from his insistent chewing, the colour of his cheeks softening into a dark pink shade rather than the red that had formed out of embarrassment. She reached across, taking his hand in her own and stroking the back of it with her thumb.

“You didn’t know?” She tilted her head in amusement, “Bob, I’ve been sleeping in your bed every night for months.”

Bucky lurched forward, “Okay, a little less info please, some of us don’t need to know the details.”

She squinted at him, “Cram it, Tin-Tin. I’m not talking to you.” 

“I mean,” Bob coughed, lowering his voice to feign some privacy as if he weren’t in a room with highly trained and enhanced individuals, “I never asked–not that I don’t want to–it’s just, I never got to ask you.”

She raised her brows at him, “Yes you did.”

“He did?” John gasped, finding himself much more intrigued by the situation than he ever could have expected. 

She ignored him, “Yeah, right after the fourth of July, remember? You told me you liked being with me.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant–” Bob stammered, blood draining from his face as he noticed the slight recoil of rejection in her body language, her grip on his hand loosening as if she meant to pull away. He tightened his own hold, “I do like being with you, I just didn’t know that’s how you took that. But I would like to. Be with you, I mean.”

A small smile curved onto her lips, and perhaps if she wasn’t sitting in front of an audience, she may have granted him a full grin as she squeezed his hand, “Good. In that case, I’m telling people that I’m the one who asked you.”

Bob nodded, turning to glance at his teammates bashfully, all of whom seemed to be in utter disbelief of what they were witnessing, “Yeah, me too.”

“Ahh, young love,” Alexei sighed, settling into the couch cushions as he slung an arm over Yelena and John’s shoulders on either side of him, “go on, Bob, kiss her.”

“Alright,” Bucky stood up, tossing his cards onto the table, “that’s enough of all the mushy-gushy. I’m going to bed.” he paused hesitantly as he turned to head down the hall, glancing down at the young woman, “I’m happy for you, kid. But let’s keep it PG, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes, “You better hurry up, wouldn’t want the geriatric unit putting out a search party.”

BONUS

This was, without a doubt, the most comfortable Bob had felt since he’d first moved into the tower. Laying in his bed, freshly showered, ceiling fan on, and the woman he hadn’t even known he was dating curled into his side with her head on his chest and wearing clothes entirely from his closet. She wasn’t asleep yet, he knew by the way that her fingertips were slightly twitching against the fabric of his shirt. She liked to fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat; she'd told him many times that she found it soothing and helped her drift off to a slumber that wasn’t entirely plagued by nightmares. In turn, her weight on his chest seemed to help with his anxiety, like a weighted blanket that was suspiciously girlfriend-shaped. 

He spoke her name into the darkness of the room, waiting to hear her soft hum of recognition to continue, “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

She let out a quiet giggle, “I can’t believe you didn’t know we were dating this whole time. I literally sleep on top of you every night.”

He let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, well…”

“And I let you make out with me all the time.”

“I know–wait, you let me? You haven’t been enjoying it?”

She turned her head to stare up at him, chin settling into the groove of his pec comfortably as she smirked at him, “Well I did at the time, when I thought you were making out with your girlfriend, but now that I know you were actually just making out with some random chick?”

“It wasn’t just some random chick,” he argued, “it was some neighbour chick. I’d seen her around.”

She pinched his side through his t-shirt, causing him to squirm underneath her, “Oh really? I guess that means I was just making out with some nerd I’ve seen around then, huh?”

He smirked, glad for the darkness of the room and it’s ability to conceal his blush from her, “I think I like it better when you call me your boyfriend.”

She turned her head again, returning to her original position as her cheek nestled against his chest, lips gently pressing against the white cotton.

“Yeah, I like it better, too.”

[abbotjack]

can u pls write a fic where the reader absolutely adores going down on abbot because she gets to have him at his most vulnerable and feral, all because of her own undoing

you know what… yeah. there's something about the way jack falls apart when your mouth is on him—quiet at first, trying to hold it together, and then suddenly he's gone. voice rough, hips twitching, all restraint out the window. and the best part? it's not because he's asking for it. it's because you wanted to. because he let you in, and now he can't hide from it. anyway. here you go!

content/warning : explicit oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, military past mentions, emotional vulnerability, established relationship intimacy, Jack is feral and in love. 18+ MDNI!!!!!

words : 1,755

Jack’s hard to catch off guard.

He’s trained for chaos. Built for pressure. Keeps himself wired tight because it’s the only way he’s ever known how to survive—by staying ten seconds ahead of the worst-case scenario, especially if that scenario has anything to do with losing you.

But sometimes, without even trying, you manage to catch him unprepared.

And tonight, he doesn’t see it coming.

It’s past ten. The rain’s steady against the windows, casting shadows that shift across the floor. You’re curled up on the living room couch, half-buried under a fleece blanket, flipping through a worn medical journal you’ve read twice already. You’re not even pretending to be interested—just waiting. Watching.

Jack’s in the kitchen, sleeves shoved to his elbows, scrubbing a pan like it’s got something personal against him. His movements are steady, practiced. Rooted in a rhythm he’s long since made his own.

He hums under his breath, soft and shapeless. Not a song, not really—just a low, quiet pattern that lives somewhere deep in his chest. The kind he slips into when he’s too tired to realize he’s doing it.

He’s already showered. Hair still damp, curling at the ends. A black t-shirt clings to his shoulders, worn soft with time. Grey sweats sit low on his hips, the waistband knotted like an afterthought. One sock. The prosthetic stays on—seamless, familiar, just another part of how he moves through the quiet of the evening.

And something in you pulls tight.

Because no one else sees him like this.

Not the hospital, where he’s all orders and intensity. Not his old unit. Not even his family, who still talk around things like they’re too fragile to touch.

But you do. You get this version of him—the quiet one. The one who moves like the day hasn’t touched him yet. The one who doesn’t have to perform toughness or control.

And you watch him, not for the first time, and think—without warning, without fanfare—God, I love you.

Not in the loud way. Not in the kind you say out loud just to hear it back. Just in the way that settles in your chest and stays there. Heavy. Certain.

He rinses the pan. Dries his hands. Looks up just as you shift your weight on the couch.

And that’s when it catches up to you—quiet, all at once. How much you want him.

Not just the sex. Not just the weight of him on your tongue or the sound he makes when he loses control.

But this. The unraveling.

The chance to take him apart, slowly, just because he lets you. Because he trusts you to.

“Jack?”

He turns, still toweling off a spot on his wrist. “Yeah?”

You slip off the blanket. Pad across the hardwood barefoot.

He watches your approach with that look—careful, measured. The one he wears when he's trying to read you before you speak.

When you reach him, you slide your hands under his shirt, palms smoothing over warm skin. He’s still damp near the collarbone. Still smells like unscented soap and the body wash he only buys because you like it.

You press your mouth to the corner of his lips, soft and slow.

He leans into it before he can stop himself.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice low.

You shrug. “Just felt like it.”

He doesn’t speak, just studies you—like he’s trying to figure out what changed, what storm might be coming.

You tilt your chin up, fingers still tracing lazy circles on his ribs.

“I want you.”

His brow ticks up. “You have me.”

You shake your head. “Not like that.”

And then, quieter: “Let me take care of you.”

He stiffens—just barely. You feel it before you see it. That split second where instinct kicks in, where he almost says no, almost laughs it off, almost makes it about you instead. Because that’s who he is.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he nods.

And you drop to your knees.

The tile is cool against your shins. Jack shifts his weight—one foot grounding, the other adjusting with practiced ease. You place your hands on his thighs and look up at him, steady under your touch.

He’s already breathing harder.

“Let me have you like this,” you whisper.

He exhales—tight, measured. “Fuck. You sure?”

You smile, pressing a kiss to the base of his stomach. “I’m already on the floor, Jack.”

That gets a low huff of laughter. But his hand settles on the back of your head anyway, fingers threading through your hair.

He watches as you undo the knot in his waistband, tug his sweats down just enough, and take him in your hand.

Already half-hard. Heavy. Familiar.

You lean in and press your lips to the head of him—soft, reverent.

And then you open your mouth.

The groan that breaks from him isn’t polished. It’s not restrained.

It’s raw.

Like it catches him off guard. Like he thought he could stand there and stay composed while you took him apart piece by piece.

But the second you suck him down, his composure splinters.

His thighs twitch. His hips jerk just slightly, then freeze like he’s trying not to move, not to hurt you, not to fuck your mouth the way he clearly wants to.

Your hands move instinctively—one braced on his stomach, steadying him, the other wrapping around the base of his cock as you work him deeper.

Jack’s head falls forward, mouth parted.

“Christ,” he breathes, voice shaking. “You—baby, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you murmur against him. “I love this.”

You swirl your tongue and take him deep again, and his knees almost buckle.

He adjusts—shifts his weight again, subtly, stepping back, his hand now braced on the counter for balance. You glance up. The way he looks at you—lips parted, eyes heavy, jaw clenched like he’s trying not to beg—you could cry from it.

And then, when you moan around him, low and slow, he loses it.

His hand fists tighter in your hair.

His abs twitch beneath your palm.

“You’re gonna fucking ruin me,” he groans.

You hum, dragging your mouth off him long enough to grin. “That’s the idea.”

You take him back in—deeper—until he hits the back of your throat, and when your nose brushes his stomach, he gasps. Like he can’t believe how good it feels. Like it hurts. Like he doesn’t know how to survive this kind of love.

His balance wavers again, and you feel it when he compensates—hip shifting forward, muscles flexing, the barest tremble in his thigh as he tries to keep still.

“Sweetheart—” he chokes out, “—I’m gonna—fuck—I’m close—”

You just keep going.

Let him have it. Let him feel it.

Every pulse. Every vibration of your mouth. Every second of you choosing to take him like he’s something sacred. Something you need like air.

And when he comes—it’s not quiet.

He groans, guttural and broken, hips stuttering forward, hand tightening in your hair, and your name spills from his lips like a confession.

You swallow. Gently. Like it’s a gift.

And then, slowly, you rise.

He’s still leaning hard on the counter, chest heaving. You just step into him. Rest your hands on his hips.

He pulls you in, eyes blown wide.

You kiss the corner of his mouth—soft, grounding.

“You okay?”

He exhales, a low breath that’s more laugh than anything else, but it breaks halfway out of his chest. “You’re gonna fucking destroy me.”

“You said that already.”

“Still true,” he mutters, tugging you in by the waist until you’re flush against him.

You lean in, forehead bumping his, nose brushing his cheek. His skin’s still warm from the shower. You press your lips to his jaw—gentle, reassuring—and whisper, “Come sit with me?”

He nods, but doesn’t move right away. Just stands there, arms wrapped around you like he’s trying to get his breath back.

Then, finally: “Yeah. Okay.”

You slide your hand down his back and tug lightly at the hem of his shirt as you pull away. He follows without hesitation.

When you reach the couch, you’re the first to sit—curling into the cushion with your knees tucked up, leaving space for him without saying a word. Jack lowers himself beside you, slow and steady, one hand bracing the armrest as he shifts his weight and sinks into the cushion.

He leans toward you, hand sliding to your hip. “C’mere,” he murmurs.

You go easily, letting him guide you as you swing a leg over his and settle into his lap. Your knees bracket his thighs. Your arms loop around his neck, and his hands find their place—one at the curve of your spine, the other curling into the fabric of your sweats at your thigh like he needs you close enough to breathe.

He doesn’t speak for a moment. Just breathes. Forehead pressed to yours.

“You always do that to me,” he says eventually, voice low and rough.

“Do what?”

“Take the fucking ground out from under me.”

You laugh softly. “You’re dramatic.”

“I’m serious,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are still heavy, a little dazed, but there’s no edge in his voice. Just something raw. Open. “It’s not just the sex. It’s the fact that I—” He shakes his head, exhales sharply. “I never used to let anyone see me like that. I didn’t know I could.”

You rest your hands on either side of his face. “You don’t have to let go for me, Jack. You just do.”

His jaw tenses for a second, then softens as your thumbs brush his cheekbones.

“I love you,” he says.

You blink. Not because you didn’t know—but because it sounds different this time. Like it came from somewhere deeper.

“I know,” you say. Then you smile. “But say it again.”

His eyes flick between yours. “I love you.”

You kiss him. Slow, unhurried, like there’s nowhere else to be. And when you pull back, he leans in and kisses your cheek. Then your temple. Then just stays there, arms around you, face pressed into the curve of your neck.

You stay like that for a long time.

Quiet. Still.

Wrapped around each other in the soft hum of your home. His heartbeat under your hand. His presence so familiar it aches in the best way.

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[whisperedmeg]

LIBRARY RULES ⋆˚꩜｡ spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you went to the library to escape the solitude of your apartment. but the last thing you were expecting was to spend the afternoon flirting over Foucault with a sweater vest-clad FBI agent who talks philosophy like it’s a love language.

genre: fluff | w/c: 1.2k

tags/warnings: none really! some light academic jargon and mentions of philosophical theory but you don’t need background on them for the story to make sense

a/n: went to the library and got inspired to write a quick little fluffy fic over the weekend 🤓 I chose the philosophy angle because I recently rewatched s4e8 ‘masterpiece’ where spencer mentions working on a philosophy BA. I dove into my old university notes while writing this, but my brain is a bit fuzzy on this stuff so pls excuse any inaccuracies lol. also specifically had season 2 glasses reid in mind (yet again). if glasses reid has no fans, I’m dead.

You only came to the library because your apartment is too loud. Or too quiet. One of those paradoxes you could never quite define — either way, you can’t focus, and you need to. So you packed up your laptop and headed for the only place where you could guarantee the atmosphere would match your mood: hushed, academic, and ever-so-slightly tense.

You love libraries. Especially the older buildings — all worn paper, polished floors, and endless mazes of shelves. There’s something sacred about it. But what you didn’t expect was for someone else to reach for the same book at the same time as you.

“Sorry—”

“I’m sorry—”

You freeze. So does he.

Your eyes meet.

He’s tall. Messy-haired. Wearing a sweater vest over a button-down and a pair of browline glasses that make him look like he walked straight out of a graduate seminar. His hand is still suspended halfway toward the spine of the book you’d both reached for — Foucault’s Discipline and Punish, of all things — and his mouth was already parting to apologize again when he seemed to realize you’re both staring at each other.

“You go ahead,” he says quickly, dropping his hand.

“No, really, you can take it,” you say. “Are you also writing an unhinged think piece on carceral theory and state surveillance?”

His mouth quirks at the corner. “Not currently. But now I’m intrigued.”

You tilt your head, feeling a little emboldened. “Do you think Foucault actually believed total surveillance was inevitable?”

He blinks, surprised. “I think he meant it more literally than people like to admit.”

“So, panopticism as a warning?”

“Or a prophecy. Depends on how generous you’re feeling.”

You laugh. “Are you always this philosophical in the library?”

He looks faintly bashful, like maybe he isn’t used to playful interrogation. “It’s, uh, kind of my default setting.”

You laugh again and glance at the book still between you. “So, are we sharing this, or arm-wrestling for it?”

“Actually,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was just hoping to reread the section on disciplinary power, but it’s not urgent. I can find something else if you—”

“We could share,” you offer, surprising yourself. “There’s a reading table over there. Neutral ground.”

He looks at you for a moment, something curious in his expression. Then he nods. “Alright. Neutral ground.”

You walk side by side to a tucked-away wooden table nestled between shelves, sit down next to each other, and open the book.

The silence is companionable at first. You each pull out notebooks. You reach for your fountain pen. He’d brought a mechanical pencil — you find that endearing.

He turns the book toward you and taps a paragraph. “This part always gets overlooked.”

You read it silently. Nod. Scribble something down.

Then pass it back.

He makes a soft noise of agreement and flips a few pages, skimming with an intensity and speed that makes you wonder how many times he’d read it before and just how many words per minute he could possibly absorb.

You lean over slightly. “That part, where Foucault describes power as diffused rather than centralized. That’s where the whole thing turns, don’t you think?”

He glances at you across the book’s spine. “Yes. That’s where it stops being about prisons.”

You smile. “And starts being about everything.”

He passes the book back and nods towards your padfolio. “You take good notes.”

“Thanks,” you say, warmth blooming behind your ribs.

For the next twenty minutes, you trade the book like it’s a conversation — passing it back and forth with soft commentary and under-the-breath questions. You don’t speak constantly, but there’s no awkwardness. Just the quiet rhythm of two people paying attention to the same thing at the same time.

You aren’t sure when your knee started brushing his under the table. Or when your hands began to linger slightly too long during each pass. You tell yourself it’s incidental. The table’s small, and the book is large. But still, you notice.

When your fingers brush his again — knuckles, this time — you hear his breath catch and look up to catch his eyes.

You could look away. Instead, you opt for a conversational angle.

“So what’s your background? You don’t seem like the political theory type.”

He tilts his head. “No?”

“You read too fast. And your notes are in shorthand.” You lean in, smiling. “You’re either a court reporter, an academic, or some sort of federal agent.”

His eyes sparkle with something between amusement and alarm. “I’d argue there are more possibilities than that.”

“You’d probably argue anything,” you say, grinning. “Which is why I’m betting on academic.”

He ducks his head. “I’ve spent a lot of time in academia, but nope. I’m with the FBI.”

You struggle to hide your shock, then study him a little closer. “You? No way.”

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he says, offering a wave instead of a handshake. “Profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Wait. I’ve heard of you.”

Spencer blinks. “You have?”

You smile. “It’s hard not to, if you work anywhere near federal law enforcement. You’re the one with, like, a million PhDs and a tendency to quote Enlightenment theorists in case briefings, right?”

His ears flush pink. “My reputation precedes me, I guess. But, uh, just three PhDs. Not a million.”

You laugh softly at his awkwardness and introduce yourself in return. “I work in federal program management. Mostly DOJ-funded prison reform initiatives. Sometimes I write about the surveillance state.”

His brow lifts. “Then you probably know more about this than I do.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” you chuckle.

He ducks his head. “Well, I’ve never done it professionally. I just read a lot.”

You study him for another moment — soft-spoken, serious, a tad awkward, earnest to a fault — and feel something warm pool in your chest.

“I like your brain,” you say casually.

That makes him choke on air.

You grin. “Too forward?”

“No, I just… don’t hear that often.”

You tilt your head, feigning surprise. “That seems criminal.”

He looks at you like he’s mentally thumbing through an index card catalog for the appropriate response. When he doesn’t find one, he does what you imagine he always does: he reaches for something safer. Facts.

“Foucault argued the panopticon wasn’t just architectural,” he says suddenly, voice steadier than his posture. “It was a metaphor for disciplinary power throughout society. He thought it turned surveillance into a subtle form of control.”

You gasp. “Oh no. Now you’re flirting with post-structuralist theory?”

He flushes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s my love language.”

For a moment, the air between you shimmers — not quite silent, not quite static. You watch his fingers tap against the pages. He watches your smile soften.

You stand, closing your notebook. “I gotta head out. But would you want to do this again? Same time next week?”

His gaze lifts. “Same book?”

“Same table,” you say, shaking your head as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Different philosopher. I want to see what you have to say about Nietzsche. I bet you have many opinions on eternal recurrence.”

Spencer huffs a quiet laugh, eyes still on you. “You have no idea.”

As you turn, notebook tucked under your arm, the air in the library seems to shift. The hush of pages and footsteps resumes around you, but it sounds different now. Warmer, maybe. Or maybe it’s just you.

At the end of the row, you glance back.

Spencer’s still watching, lopsided grin on his face. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks away like a little kid caught peeping at his gifts on Christmas Eve.

You turn the corner smiling.

Library rules: always return what you borrow. But this time, maybe — just maybe — you’re hoping to keep what you’d found.

ᝰ.ᐟ

masterlist

PSA: likes do very little for promoting posts on tumblr! if you'd like to support a fic, please reblog!

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (hyung line)

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a little bit of angst and suggestive themes!!

⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: some are talking about sex, alcohol and being intoxicated (not the boys). i think that's all idk. anyways!! if you're under 16 pls don't read this.

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: 2022 deni kinda ate with these ngl, so of course i had to rewrite it <3 these used to be my favorite hcs i ever wrote, so i truly hope you enjoy <3. happy channie day!! maknae line here!

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

With Christopher here, things are complicated because he avoids labeling what you guys have like the plague. His work always comes first so that makes him shy away from commitment.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He does, a lot, and that kind of scares him, especially when he randomly starts feeling possessive over you when he knows he has no right to.

No matter how much he tries to deny it, the feelings are there and he’s always reminded of them when he catches himself treating you so much different from the other girls in his life.

You were humming in your seat, head bopping from side to side to the rhythm of the tunes on the radio. A happy bubblegum pop song, one that didn’t fail to lift your already high spirits and put you into the right mood for the long trip ahead.

“You look happy.”

Your head snaps in his direction, a big smile stretching across your face as his melodious laugh fills your ears. Chan wasn’t looking at you, giving all of his attention to the road as he drove behind Minho’s car yet his words made you giddier, just happy to be here in his presence.

“I am!” You nod, still swaying in your seat. “Thank you for taking me along, I haven’t been to the beach in ages.”

Chan hums with a smile before reaching down and gently grabbing your hand, eyes still focused on the road as he raises it to his to plant multiple, gentle kisses on your skin.

“Of course, baby.” He says, giving a final kiss to your knuckles before resting your hands next to the gear stick. “I wouldn’t even have gone on this trip without you.”

The sweet gesture along with his words made your heart skip several beats, fooling your mind into believing he actually felt the same, the scene making you resemble an actual couple. Everybody was convinced you were already dating, since affection and those small touches came so naturally in your relationship, with no awkwardness or second guessing. You and Chan have fallen into this domestic routine where you do almost everything together despite not even being together. Yet, you loved being this close to him, glued at the hip and so enamored with one another but sometimes, you wished things were clearer, to actually know what you were and weren’t. How he viewed and felt about this relationship of yours.

“Something on your mind?”

Blinking your worries away, your heart swelled in your chest when you felt him squeeze your hand lightly, a sign of the silent support and care he never shied away from providing.

Shaking your head, the smile on your face returns, albeit a bit forced. “I was just thinking about how much you must enjoy my company, that’s all.”

That got a laugh out of him, grinning from ear to ear as he continued to drive with one hand, honey orbs briefly meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

“Is that so? You really think that, huh?”

You nod, intertwining your fingers while keeping your eyes straight ahead, softly caressing his hand. “Of course. What kind of person would miss going on a long-awaited trip with his best friends just for lil’ old me?”

Then, you turn to face him, mustering enough courage to appear confident and charming with your next words.

“You must really like me, huh, Christopher?”

His hold on you tightened, almost as if he was afraid you were going to disappear if he let go. You saw him nod his head and when the car came to a stop at a red light soon after, he finally took his eyes off the road to face you fully. His gaze was soft as he watched you like you held the sun in your bare hands and for the first time, Chan hesitated for a brief moment before he leaned over the console to press his lips against yours.

The kiss was so unexpected that you gasped at the contact, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and deepen your dance, change it all together, except he didn’t. He didn’t take things further, hand still holding yours as your lips did all the talking, moving against you in such a soft and tender way it almost brought you to tears, never experiencing such meaningful intimacy with him before.

When he pulled away, his eyes were still serious but slightly blown by your previous actions. In any other circumstances, you’d say it was lust but right now it felt like something more, an emotion that only grew and blossomed the more time you spent together. Something appropriate for your deep connection, beyond carnal desires and sighs of ecstasy.  

“I really, really do like you, Y/n. Please never forget that.”

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

The jealousy is strong with this one. I mean, that’s to be expected when your relationship status is so vague and ambiguous that you guys never talk about it.

However, he’s the softest when he’s with you. It’s like all of his worries and anxieties disappear when you’re by his side.

Secretly a romantic.

“Who is she?”

Minho looks up from his place on the floor at the sound of your voice, one eyebrow rising as a sign for you to go on while he continues to stretch. When you don’t, he lets a small sigh escape him before taking matters into his own hands.

“Elaborate.”

“Who is she?” you try again, arms crossed over your chest while a frown forms across your features. “The girl that was just here. The one you were happily laughing along with.”

Oh, that girl. Minho tries to hide his smirk once he hears what you have to say, being able to sense your jealousy without even having to spare you another glance. Truth be told, he knew exactly who you were talking about from the moment you opened your mouth yet, the part of him that wanted to see you get all worked up took over and made him play dumb.

Quickly composing himself before you notice, he shrugs. “Just some girl.”

He could feel you getting annoyed by now, his nonchalance and dismissal almost making your blood boil. “Lee Minho – “

“Why do you care?”

His voice is lower, usual doe and gentle stare narrowing slightly as he looks you dead in the eyes. Abandoning his stretching, Minho then stands up and takes a stance similar to yours, towering over you. He was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, his scent and him as a whole not only invading all of your senses but also your personal space. Not that you minded, you never did or ever will.

Not backing down, you took a step forward as well, closing in on him while maintaining eye contact. Eye contact always made Minho weak in the knees so you never wasted any opportunity of making him a little hot under the collar. Just as expected, Minho’s body reacts almost immediately, big hands settling on your hips before pulling you flush against him. The intimacy and gentleness of the action have your initial anger vanishing, the only thing on your mind now being him and him alone.

Deciding to play along, your arms naturally gravitate around his shoulders. “Am I not allowed to care about the type of people you surround yourself with, darling?” You smile yet he sees right through you, your words filled with sarcasm and something else Minho can’t quite put his finger on. Despite your affection, this was still bothering you.

But Minho doesn’t comment on it. “Like I said, she isn’t anyone important. You shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about her.” He breaths out, wet lips hovering over yours as he speaks. And before you know it, he’s kissing you, lips coming together in a passionate kiss only Minho himself can provide.

But even as you stand there, pinned to the cold mirror while he gently nips and sucks at your neck, you can’t help but worry about it all. You weren’t his girlfriend so you were fully aware that you had no right to question him about who he was or wasn’t hanging out with. But the fact that he wasn’t willing to tell you, to reassure you like he always did made your heart ache in your chest most painfully.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Thinks he’s being oh so subtle about what you two have going on. Newsflash, all of the boys already know there’s more than meets the eye between you.

Very protective but not in an overbearing way.

Actually really likes you but isn’t sure if you feel the same so he doesn’t act on those feelings.

Changbin was watching you from afar, a smile playing on his lips at the sight of you animatedly talking to some classmates. You haven’t noticed him yet and his heart was almost jumping out of his chest waiting for you to do so, trying to play it cool as he leaned against his car with his arms crossed. He might’ve looked calm and composed on the outside but on the inside, he was freaking out.

You two haven’t seen each other in a bit because of his busy schedule and now that he’s got some free time, one of the first things on his bucket list was to surprise you by dropping by to your school. Changbin had a whole afternoon planned out just for the two of you, one that involved all of your favorite activities and food. A part of him was really confused by his own behavior, especially since you never had ‘the talk’ regarding your relationship but he just couldn’t help it. The urge to spoil and shower you with gifts and his undivided attention was stronger than his doubts were, as usual.

He never realized he was a romantic until he met you, and fell head over heels for your charming personality.

Breaking away from your group of friends, your eyes finally met his and immediately widened at the sight of him, just like his smile does. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree and next thing Changbin knew, you broke into a sprint in his direction, your obvious excitement making the man laugh loudly in delight. You looked so adorable running to him like that, he couldn’t wait to get you in his arms and never let go.

You were almost there when suddenly some dude decided to stop you right in your tracks, blocking your path to get your undivided attention. You were visibly taken aback as you came to an abrupt stop, your face falling as the person started talking. This made Changbin’s mood do a whole 180, wasting no time in starting to make his way over, keen on giving this dude a piece of his mind. Your smile returned as he approached, looking at him over the man’s shoulder as everything he was saying was completely lost on you, Changbin’s magnetic field pulling you in without fail.

“Sorry, uhh…” You paused, trying to recall his name before shaking your head. “My boyfriend is here so I really have to go.”

At the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’, the guy turned around to face Changbin so fast, it had him wondering how he didn’t get whiplash. Looking at him, Binnie glared as he tried to look as intimating as possible while the butterflies in his stomach were currently causing a riot over you calling him ‘your boyfriend’. Which wasn’t a hard task since he already looked as intimating as they come because of his well-built body, his mere presence causing the other man to hunch slightly.

“Okay, I-I will call you later then, Y/n.”

Changbin raised a single eyebrow, crossing his arms once again. “Me, Y/n's boyfriend, wouldn’t like that, so don’t you even dare.” He glared menacingly, almost like daring the guy to protest in some way. “Now, scram.”

That’s all the warnings the guy needed to flee, leaving without as much of a goodbye while Changbin followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight. Your sweet giggles reached his ears, melting those sharp edges before he felt you throw yourself into his arms, your own going around his neck to pull him even closer. And just like that, the butterflies were back and making him feel like a high schooler around his first ever crush. He returned the hug in an instant, strong arms wrapping around your waist before picking you up and spinning you around, the sound of your delight getting rid of all of his annoyance and stress, the best cure ever invented.

“Hello, boyfriend.” You placed several pecks on his lips when the world stopped spinning, lightly kicking your feet that were still off the ground. “I missed you.”

He wasn’t your boyfriend yet, but after today, maybe he could finally be. 

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The one that’s truly wrapped around your finger even if he would never admit it out loud. He’s bewitched, mesmerized by every little thing you do and say, his eyes full of adoration as he follows your every movement, almost like a puppy.

Randomly goes: “you can sit here” and here ends up being between his legs in a room full of 7 other men.

Can never take his eyes off of you.

Everyone’s laughter was bouncing off the walls as another dare was swung around, one that had someone pull out their phone and booty call a random number while trying but failing miserably to sound sober. Speaking off, everything seemed to be funny for your intoxicated friends at this hour. From knocking over each other’s drinks to randomly kissing, they were having the time of their lives and that brought the biggest smile to your lips.

“Hyunjin.” One of your girlfriends began, getting both yours and the man that was currently sitting behind you on the floor’s attention. She had a mischievous glint in her glassy eyes, one that had you a bit worried.

“What’s your type?” she finally asked before taking another sip of her drink, smirk growing bigger by the second as she fluttered her eyelashes innocently, twirling a piece of her hair around a manicured finger. “Like I’m sure you don’t just fuck randos, they all have to fit some type of criteria, don’t they?”

“What gets Hwang Hyunjin hard?” Another one chimed in, scooting closer in interest.

And there it was. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as all the girls started giggling, clearly very amused and intrigued by the whole situation. Granted they were drunk but since you weren’t, it was a bit harder to hide your annoyance. You and Hyunjin weren’t a couple, heck you didn’t even know what you were but he was latched onto you from behind while you sat in between his legs, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Did they have to ask something like this while you were right here?

Soon, almost all of your friends seemed to be interested in his answer, especially since Hyunjin was known for his notorious reputation with both girls and boys around campus. You finally felt him react when Changbin, who was an even louder drunk, pointed out the look on your face and got everyone staring at you two. His arms tightened slightly around you, pulling your body even closer like he was trying to merge souls while his head came to rest on your shoulder in such a way that prevented the others from seeing his lips moving.

“What do you think, baby?” He whispered, hot breath making goosebumps appear all over your skin and awakening something in you. All his attention was on you now, ignoring everything and everyone around him like he wasn’t just asked a question. As expected, their interest wasn’t piqued for long since Hyunjin didn’t react nor answer, talking among themselves once again, with some hollering and wolf whistling when they noticed him gently moving your hair out of the way to start planting wet, open-mouthed kisses on the side of your throat.

Your breath picked up at that, one of your hands moving to rest over his and intertwining your fingers while his free one sneaked under your shirt to caress the bare skin.

With one last kiss on the back of your neck, Hyunjin spoke again, his next words making your head spin and almost whimper. “Should I start telling them about how sweet your voice sounds while moaning my name? To list all of those things you do that drive me insane daily or should I just let this be our little secret?”

[wheeboo]

off the record | kim mingyu {part two}

SYNOPSIS. Kim Mingyu lives a double life. On one end, he’s the perfectly charming yet clumsy coworker at the Daily Planet. On the other, he’s saving the world. But when you–a guarded yet sharp-witted journalist–are paired up with him on solving a mysterious case of kryptonite trafficking, Mingyu finds it harder and harder to keep his secret at bay. And falling for you only makes it worse, when he’s only given two choices: protect his identity, or risk everything by letting you in.  PAIRING. superman!kim mingyu x journalist!fem!reader (ft. editor-in-chief!seungcheol, photojournalist!wonwoo, editor!minghao, barista!seulgi) GENRE. superman au, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humour, slow burn, suggestive WARNINGS. cursing, suggestive themes (kissing, making out, lil grinding, vague nudity, implied sex, shirtless mingyu ofc), violence, blood, illegal crimes (kryptonite trafficking, robbery, theft, hijacking, bombing, kidnapping), drinking, mention of tobacco, mingyu has hella plot armour, idk how to write a whole crime case for the life of me i was struggling w that whole part so it prob makes no sense lol WORD COUNT. 18.2k (for part two); 43k (in total)

notes: welcome to the final part of off the record!! honestly after rereading this fic a million times i swear there are plot holes and parts i could do better on. but hey, i've never written an action-crime fic like this before so i had fun writing with all the knowledge i had and wtv my pea brain could handle heh. if you've read this far, i hope you've enjoyed 🫶 once again, pls do reblog or comment/send an ask i would love to know your thoughts!

part one | part two

Mingyu finds himself clumsily stumbling through the doors of the Daily Planet. He’s ten minutes late than he was supposed to clock in. One of the buttons on his shirt is unknowingly misaligned, though he covers it up with his jacket. He brushes through his windswept hair, adjusts his crooked tie, and itches a tiny spot at his nose before fixing the glasses on his face while speed-walking through the lobby. 

There was an attempted robbery at one of the local laundromats this morning. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad𑁋just a bunch of high school teenagers attempting to snoop through the laundry machines and steal the coins. Mingyu had handled it quickly, gently scolding the teenagers then reprimanding them, and flying them straight to the nearest police station. But it still cost him precious time, as he barely was able to finish his breakfast before being called in. 

Mingyu sighs under his breath, muttering an apology as he dodges a passing janitor and an intern jogging towards the ground floor coffee shop. His mind races ahead of him, knowing he was going to see you today. You’re probably already here, sipping on your cup of coffee that he should’ve probably gotten for you if he wasn’t late.

Warmth blooms in his chest at the thought of you briefly, but the fondness is quickly shoved away by guilt. He can’t help but think about your conversation with him the other night as he adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

Your words keep replaying over and over in his mind. You make it hard, you know, to stay detached. 

God, he wanted to tell you everything. Wanted to stand in front of you𑁋not as Superman, but as Mingyu. As your dazed, cowardice coworker and science journalist who has always wanted to ask you out on a proper date but doesn’t have the guts to. 

It’s an odd situation, really. When he’s Superman, he has the confidence to kiss you, but when he’s Mingyu, he can barely look at you in the eyes for more than five seconds before feeling like he’ll spontaneously combust. 

He exhales sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face as he nears the elevators. His steps quicken with determination. He dashes around the corner of the lobby𑁋

𑁋and crashes straight into another man. 

“Ah, sorry, sir!” Mingyu blurts out in apology, already reaching out a hand to steady the man before stumbling back himself. 

The man barely looks up from where he stands, clutching a sleek black briefcase at his side as he brushes off his dark coat, muttering something under his breath. He’s tall, seemingly close to Mingyu’s height, and his face is half-hidden by a black fedora.

The familiarity of the man hits Mingyu all at once. 

Mingyu feigns a guilty look. “Sorry again, sir. Is there anything I can𑁋”

And then it hits him. A wave of nausea slams into Mingyu’s gut.

He falters for a second, trying to control the way his knees nearly buckle beneath him. His vision swims for a second, his skin burning underneath his clothes, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead despite being in a completely air-conditioned lobby.

“You good, kid?” the man asks lowly, voice rough and gravelly; it even sends an uncomfortable shiver up Mingyu’s spine.

No.

He is not good. 

“Yeah, just…” He lets out a few fake coughs, clenching his jaw. “Skipped breakfast, little stomachache. Happens more often than you think.”

“Mm,” the man hums, and Mingyu swears he sees his lips curl underneath the shadow from his fedora. His stomach twists violently as his attention flits to the man’s briefcase momentarily, and there’s a faint, sickly green glow pulsing from its seams, so subtle no ordinary human eye could possibly notice. “Take care of yourself, kid.” 

Before Mingyu can say anything more, he watches as the man disappears within the bustling, crowded lobby. Then he finds himself leaning against the wall for support, breathing unsteady, feeling the poison dissipating from his bloodstream the farther the man walks away. 

Kryptonite. The word echoes through his mind as if he was cursed, leaving his limbs heavy and his thoughts spiraling. The pain is faint now𑁋whatever the hell was in that briefcase is out of proximity𑁋but that encounter was close. Too close. This wasn’t just some low level crook or common thief. It wasn’t an accident. It was intentional. 

And if it’s in the Daily Planet, it was meant for him. 

Mingyu forces himself upright, brushes away invisible dust on his clothes, and readjusts his crooked glasses. He can’t afford to make a scene. Not here. Not now.

Especially not when you’re here. 

He pastes on a smile when the elevator dings and he steps out onto the floor, yet it’s swift to fade as he breezes past passing colleagues trying to greet him and cubicles, scanning the room to find you. But he doesn’t see you, not even at your desk.

Panicking, he strides towards around the corner to where the conference room is, heart thudding, vision narrowed. 

Finally, he spots you through the glass of one of them. You’re seated near the end of the table surrounded by other journalists in your field, dressed in some semi-formal attire, jotting down notes on your notepad as a woman speaks at the front. You’re so focused, so in your element, completely unaware of the possible danger lingering inside the building. 

A wave of relief washes over him for a fleeting moment as he nears the door. He hesitates. He shouldn’t disturb you. You’d probably even try to kill him for interrupting a meeting like this. 

But he can’t shake the feeling crawling up his spine𑁋the warning courses through his veins, the way every nerve in his body is rigid with apprehension. The image of that briefcase and its poisonous glow flashes through his eyes. 

Without thinking, he knocks on the door, and it’s firm enough to turn a few heads in his direction. The woman at the front pauses mid-sentence. You look up as well, eyes widening and brows furrowing to the sight of Mingyu in the doorway. He gestures toward you with a subtle tilt of his head, mouthing something you can’t quite decipher from where you’re sitting. 

“Hi, um… Sorry to interrupt.” Mingyu pushes the door open a little more, trying to contain the urgency in his voice, shooting apologetic looks to everyone in the room. “Can I borrow Y/N for a second?”

You frown at him, glancing briefly at your other colleagues who are all mumbling amongst each other. “I𑁋Mingyu, can it wait? I’m in the middle of a𑁋”

“Please.” His lips part; for a brief second, his façade falters, and you catch something like worry in his eyes. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

Your shoulders tense instinctively, but you cover it up with a polite smile to the people beside you, mumbling apologies under your breath. You tuck your notepad under your arm and stuff your pen inside the pocket of your suit jacket and quietly excuse yourself from the meeting. 

Mingyu opens the door a little farther for you to step out, before closing it behind and reaching for your hand without a second thought. 

His fingers wrap around your hands with a kind of urgency you’ve never felt from him before, struggling to keep up with his fast pace. He drags you through the crowded newsroom and towards the entrance to the stairwell, the buzz of nearby conversations fading away. 

“Mingyu,” You breathe out the second the two of you stop. “You can’t just take me out of my meeting𑁋what’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer at first. His hand still hasn’t let go of yours, and you catch the way his eyes seem to be darting around as if expecting someone𑁋or someone𑁋to appear around the corner any moment. His jaw tightens, and you swear if you listen hard enough, you might be able to hear his teeth grind. 

Mingyu swallows hard before looking down at you, his firm grip on your hand loosening slightly. 

“I… I just needed to see you,” he confesses, though you can tell he’s holding something back. 

Your breath hitches at his words. “What’s𑁋”

“You trust me, right?” he asks quietly, words fragile as if it’s going to break. 

Your lips part to speak, but the words take a few seconds to form. “I… Of course, I do.”

He exhales shakily at your words, something flickering over his eyes𑁋relief, perhaps. Or guilt. Or regret. But before you can dwell on it, before you can ask him what’s wrong, a shrill, piercing sound cuts thunderously through the air.

The alarm.

It blares overhead, bouncing off the walls, swallowing every other sound in its wake. Flashing red lights cloud your vision and illuminate the halls. You could only freeze in place, stomach sinking down to the ground, unable to move. 

“Attention, all personnel,” a calm, but firm voice speaks through the intercom system. “We have received a breach in security. Please remain calm and await further instruction. There has been a potential bomb threat reported in the building. All personnel are ordered to evacuate immediately. Emergency services are on their way. This is not a drill. I repeat: this is not a drill.”

You feel your blood run cold. Gasps and shouts erupt all across the newsroom. Chairs scrape against the floor. People around you are scrambling for their belongings and pouring out into the hallway. 

You whip your head back around to Mingyu. He’s grown paler, yet his grip on your hand only tightens, like he’s trying to anchor himself to you𑁋and maybe he is. Maybe you’re the only thing holding him together right now. 

“Mingyu,” You utter, panic creeping into your voice. “A bomb? Is this𑁋should we𑁋”

“We need to get out of here,” he interrupts, already pulling you toward the stairwell door. “Come on.”

You hastily stumble after him as he pushes the door open and leads you down the flights of stairs. You can hear the stampede of steps right behind you of people flooding their way through the stairwell, trying to get out as well. His steps are faster, more purposeful, but every few seconds he glances over his shoulder to check on you, making sure you’re keeping up. 

At the bottom of the stairs, the doors are wide open, people from all directions rushing outside, some shouting into phones, others helping each other along. The sirens of the emergency services grow deafening the second you and him burst outside. 

Mingyu pulls you a little farther away from the growing crowd, his hand still clasped around yours like he’s terrified to let go. His chest heaves unsteadily, gaze flicking wildly over the scene𑁋police cars, reporters scrambling to get footage, people crying or calling their loved ones on the phone. 

When he comes to a halt, he turns back to look at you. “Don’t move from here. Don’t follow me. Do you understand?”

“What?” You gasp, trying to catch your breath. “No𑁋Mingyu, you are not fucking going back, I am not letting you𑁋”

“Promise me.” One of his hands finds your shoulder, gripping tight but not too harshly. The other reaches up to hesitantly cup your face, and for a brief moment, the chaos seems to fade away. “Please.” 

Your throat constricts, and you barely manage a nod. With that, you feel him pull away from you. There’s a small hint of hesitation as he doesn’t let his eyes leave yours. But then he purses his lips together and turns on his heel, running back into the crowd and disappearing behind all the rows of screaming police cars. 

Every instinct in you is fighting to follow him, a wobble in your step as you place one foot forward. 

But you promised him to stay, and so you do.

Mingyu rounds a corner and ducks into a nearby alleyway. He fumbles with the buttons to his shirt, tearing it open to reveal the unmistakable emblem hidden underneath. He kicks off his shoes and throws his glasses aside, shrugging off the rest of his clothes as his red cape flares out behind him like a banner. 

The building of the Daily Planet shrinks beneath him as he launches himself up into the air, letting his mind focus to narrow in on the threat. His eyes glow as he scans through the building’s interior, and then𑁋there. 

A soft, beep-beep-beep reverberates in his ear, coming from beneath the layers of concrete and steel. He forces himself to focus even more, his vision lasering through the walls of the building, until he sees it. 

17th floor. Administrative area. Armed men surrounding the bomb like vultures. 

With a singular breath, he dives down, merely a blur of red and blue to witnesses below as he crashes through the window, shattering glass exploding like diamonds. The force is enough to send a few of the armed men crashing down the ground before even realising what hit them.

In an instant, he feels the white-hot searing pain of kryptonite nearby enter his body, but he has to push through. He has to. 

Alarms wail in his ears as he lands on the floor with a thunderous impact. But he tunes them out, eyes narrowing to the sounds of weapons being drawn and commands being shouted from all kinds of directions𑁋but he’s faster, way too fast. 

Mingyu moves before any of them can properly aim. A sharp whoosh penetrates through the air with every punch, every tackle, every bullet that harmlessly ricochets off his chest and into the walls. He lifts one man into the air and flings him into a nearby desk with enough restraint to incapacitate, but not to kill. Another one tries to foolishly sprint at him with a knife, but fails miserably as Mingyu grabs him by the wrist, twisting hard enough to make the man yelp and the knife crumpling down to the floor. With a clean punch, he sends the man flying across the room. 

The click of a gun heightens Mingyu’s senses, and he turns around to lunge forward into another armed man aiming directly at him, grabbing the barrel of the gun and bending it like it’s made of tinfoil. A swift punch to the gut is enough to send the man buckling down to the ground before having any time to react. 

At the corner of his eye, Mingyu spots another one of the men attempting to escape through the stairwell. He dashes forward, slamming the man straight into the wall, watching as his unconscious body slumps down the stairs. 

When the last attacker is down and the room finally stills, Mingyu turns his attention back to the bomb. It sits perched on a standing desk, ominous and pulsing faintly with a green glow.

Kryptonite. 

A wave of nausea claws up his throat as he nears it. It’s still ticking down.

00:00:40.

00:00:39.

00:00:38…

He has no time.

As a groan bubbles deep in his chest, Mingyu reaches out and encases the bomb in his arms, sweltering pain crawling up his arm as he tightens a grip around the cold metal, but he doesn’t let go. 

“Shit, come on, come on…” he hisses through his teeth, his cape dragging against the floor below.

He bends his knees and tries to push off the ground, but he barely lifts off.

The kryptonite’s grip tightens around his chest like a suffocating weight. His flight sputters like a broken engine, lifting him only a few feet off the ground before his strength falters. He slams back onto the floor with a harsh grunt, sweat beading over his forehead. 

The clock keeps ticking down. He squeezes his eyes shut. Focus, focus, focus.

He won’t fail. He can’t. 

Mingyu forces himself upright again, wrapping both arms around the bomb. His muscles turns into knots under the strain, but he wills his body to rise, fighting to cover every agonising inch off the ground.

Then with a sudden burst of energy, he rockets through the ceiling, debris exploding through the air as his cape snaps behind him through the wind. He flies higher and higher, struggling to not succumb to the kryptonite’s poison crawling through his veins.

00:00:17.

00:00:16.

00:00:15…

He breaks through the clouds and rears close to the stratosphere, the city below him stretching like a blanket. The bomb feels heavier than the entire world itself. His chest tightens even more; black spots dancing through his vision. 

00:00:06.

00:00:05.

00:00:04…

With one final roar, Mingyu hurls the bomb out of his grasp and straight up into the sky with every last ounce of his strength he could muster. It sails upwards like a shooting star, and as the seconds dial to zero, it explodes in a brilliant, blinding supernova of green light far above the Earth that sends him barreling back to the ground, though he manages to catch himself mid-air, hovering for a few seconds to catch his breath.

Back on the ground, a sudden shockwave nearly has you slipping on your feet, rumbling the ground like distant thunder. Gasps ripple through the air as you and everyone else’s eyes peer up to the skies, the explosion illuminating the heavens above before being swallowed by the clouds. 

And then… silence. Peace. But it isn’t as comforting as you hoped for. 

You scan the crowd desperately, spotting coworkers hugging each other, cameras aimed at the skies with reporters frantically speaking. But there’s no sign of the face you’re looking for𑁋where the hell is Mingyu?

He promised you. He promised. 

Your feet take a few staggering steps forward, continuing to skim every face in your peripheral vision, yet you still don’t see any sight of him. Worry swarms through every limb in your body as you clench your fists at your side, ready to defy his word if it means finding him. 

But then, suddenly, a cloth clamps over your mouth from behind. 

Your scream is muffled as your body jerks backward, and whatever the hell is laced in the cloth immediately burns down your throat the second you inhale its bitter, chemical smell. You try to thrash your legs, wildly flail your arms, but then an arm grips around your torso, leaving your efforts to no avail. 

Your vision spins. The world starts to tilt. Your limbs begin to grow weak, sluggish, your strength slipping away. 

“Shh, shh,” a low voice whispers eerily in your ear. “Don’t make this harder, sweetheart.”

The last thing you see and hear before the darkness consumes you is the blurry outline of the crowd cheering and the streaking colour of red and blue crossing the sky. 

The first thing you feel is a pulsating throb against your skull. Your eyelids flutter open slowly, vision swimming in and out of focus, but the world around you is completely disorientating. 

Harsh fluorescent lights glare down on you from above, and the sharp smell of something faintly chemical, acrid, metallic fill your lungs. It feels like weights are holding down all your limbs, only for you to realise you’re completely bound up𑁋both legs and wrists.

You tug helplessly at the bindings, but they don’t budge. Cold metal cuffs bite uncomfortably into your skin, anchoring you to the chair you’re sitting on. Your heart pounds anxiously against your ribcage as your vision starts to finally sharpen𑁋and that’s when you realise where you are. Or where you think you are.

A warehouse. Or something like that. Grey, windowless walls surround you on every side, illuminated by the few flickering light bulbs above. Stacks of crates line the walls containing serial numbers you don’t recognise, but you could only guess the one thing that may be housed in there.

Kryptonite. 

Dread gnaws at your core.

Somewhere, a low snicker taunts you from the shadows. 

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”

You flinch as footsteps start to approach, a pair of heavy boots pounding against the concrete. Slowly, a man steps into your view𑁋middle-aged, a black fedora on his head, a jagged scar running from his temple and down to his jaw. A pistol is grasped in his hand, but what chills you more is the cutthroat glint to his eyes. Behind him stood a few men, rifles casually slung over their shoulders, their faces covered with masks. 

“Comfortable?” He crouches down to your level, close enough you literally taste the pungent smell of tobacco off him. “Apologies for the rude awakening, darling. Was concerned they put too much chloroform in you.” 

You spit at the ground near his boot. “Go to hell, prick.”

A dark grin spreads across the man’s scarred face. “Oh, honey, I’ve been living there for years.” The gun in his hand clicks loudly, raising the hairs on the back of your neck, pointing the barrel of the gun at your knee. “But don’t worry. You’ll be joining me soon enough.”

A ripple of chuckles dance around you mockingly. Scarface eventually stands up, pacing around you tauntingly. 

“Let’s cut to the chase, yeah?” he starts. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?”

He stops directly behind you, and you feel the barrel of his gun knock against the back of your head. 

“Here’s the thing,” Scarface continues coldly. “This ain’t personal, sweetheart. Though, between you and me, it’s a hell of a bonus that you happen to be his plaything.”

Your blood runs cold. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He simply laughs, a bitter bark that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. “Come on, princess, don’t play dumb. You and Superman. Or whatever the hell he calls himself these days. We’ve seen you two.” 

You swallow hard, lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re delusional.”

His grin widens, teeth yellow in the dim light. “Am I? Or did you think no one else would notice? Cameras are everywhere in this shithole city, darling. Tell me, doll𑁋does he fly straight to your apartment after a rescue? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Fuck you silly in the sky?”

You jerk frantically against the cuffs, wincing as the metal digs deeper into your skin. “You’re sick, you𑁋”

The sound of the gun cocking immediately makes you zip your mouth. 

“You wrote that little article, huh? Though you were some big hero exposing our kryptonite trade, eh?” He lets out a low whistle. “You’ve pissed off the wrong people with that one, princess. It almost makes me feel bad for you, honestly. But alas, you’ve signed your own death warrant with that.”

“If you want to kill me so badly, just do it,” You urge lowly.

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” Scarface spits hoarsely. “As much as it would be fun to put a bullet through your head, there are far more important things than that. Superman.”

“He’s not your enemy,” You attempt to reason, even though deep down you know it’s useless. “He’s saved this city more times than𑁋”

“I’ve heard all the PR bullshit,” he cuts you off sharply. “He’s a threat. A freak. An alien bastard. A ticking time bomb. You think this world is safe with him flying around? He can lift mountains and destroy an entire city with a fucking sneeze. And threats like that need to be neutralised.” 

Scarface looms above you once again, pointing the gun right between your eyes. 

“And what better way to lure him out by using the thing he loves most?” 

You battle the fear grappling at your chest, forcing your defiant gaze to shoot a dagger right through him. 

“Fuck you.”

What comes next is a loud slap that echoes across the room. Pain immediately burns through your cheek from the force, your vision momentarily blurring, the taste of copper falling on your tongue. Your teeth scrape against each other in your mouth as you hold back the heat sprouting in the corners of your eyes. 

“Tough girl, huh?” Scarface sneers amusedly, pulling away from you. “Makes things more fun.”

Before you can retort, you hear shots ringing out in the distance𑁋somewhere outside from wherever you are. It stuns the room in a brief, rigid silence, making the armed men in the room hoister their rifles. There’s a momentary wave of relief that hits you, a beat of hope that reverberates in your heart. 

Scarface curses lowly under his breath, his grip hardening around his pistol, signaling to the men in the room. You watch as they all give a nod before marching out the door, before Scarface flickers his gaze back to you. 

“You stay right here, yeah?” He gives you a forceful flick on the forehead. “Enjoy the show, princess.”

The rattling sound of keys jerks your attention upright. You watch with hazy eyes as two armed men stroll inside the room with heavy footsteps. Both of their faces are obscured and hidden by hats and masks, rifles slung across their shoulders as they approach you. They come to either side of you𑁋the man on the right reaches for a tight grip around your waist.

“Get up,” he orders gruffly. “Orders changed. We’re taking you outside.”

The man on the left is noticeably silent as you’re yanked off your chair and onto your feet. Your knees wobble from having been sitting for God knows how long, blood and adrenaline rushing throughout your body. 

You find yourself being forced towards the exit, entering into a shallow hallway. Exposed pipes and the heavy, unappealing scent of oil and gunpowder fill your lungs. You stumble against the uneven floor as you’re guided forward, their grips firm on your wrists.

The silence of the hallway feels deafening, seemingly endless before your eyes with no visible signs of escape. You overhear the man on the right mumbling something over what you assume to be a radio, then you allow your gaze to flit over to the man on the left. 

He’s stoic, composed, the low brim of his cap hiding his eyes. His grip on your wrist is not as bruising as the other man; in fact, it’s almost gentle, somewhat hesitant. It doesn’t feel like the kind of grip of someone dragging you down to your execution. Or maybe you’re just holding onto the end of some fragile thread of hope, because at this point, it’s slipping from your grasp way faster than you’re able to catch up with.

“Get moving.” The man on the right shoves you with the barrel of his gun.

You stumble forward with a sharp hiss, and you hardly realise that the grip on your left wrist tightens ever so slightly, preventing you from falling down to the ground.

“Watch it,” the man on the left grumbles.

“Shut your mouth.” The other man gives you another harsher push. 

And then, suddenly, the air shifts.

It happens like the blink of an eye𑁋a blur of movement catches you off-guard and before your brain could fully process what’s happening, the man on the left snaps into action.

With one fluid, impossible movement, he lets go of your wrist before swinging a hand directly into the other man’s gut. A sickening crunch echoes through the empty hallway as you watch the armed guard crumple down to the ground. Before he has any chance to recover, the man on your left knocks the rifle clean out of his hands, and in another flash of motion, slams him hard into the wall.

The impact leaves a deep dent in the drywall. 

You instinctively shield yourself with your cuffed hands, fear slithering up your shaky legs as the man turns directly towards you. For a moment, your heart nearly stops.

And then, you see it.

Though his face is still obscured, you catch a glimpse𑁋just a tiny glimpse𑁋of his eyes.

There’s no anger in them.

Or rage.

But warmth. 

Your lips part in disbelief as you scan him from head to toe. The brim of his hat is slightly askew from earlier, dark hair peeking out from underneath. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, his frame sending an unmistakable spark of recognition through your mind, and it takes everything in you not to cry or collapse from relief. 

Superman is here. He found you.

He steps up to you carefully while removing his mask, reaching an arm behind to snap the cuffs off your wrists like they’re made of tinfoil. They fall down the ground with a clank, and you find yourself instinctively leaning into him, feeling his arms immediately catch you. His warmth is enough to wash away more of the fear and adrenaline coursing within you. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is low, almost hoarse𑁋like it physically hurts to see you like this.

You give a subtle, vulnerable shake of your head. He doesn’t press you more about it. 

“There’s kryptonite here,” You tell him worriedly. “They talked about it𑁋said they were going to use it on you. To trap you. Kill you.”

You feel his body stiffen for a moment. Not out of fear, though. He’s not afraid, you think.

“I know,” he says quietly. 

He releases you a little, giving him room to slide one of his gloves off. Your eyes widen at the sight of blood on his knuckles. The imminent danger of kryptonite is fully shown right in front of you. Just like the heist at the National Bank, it’s enough to even make the Man of Steel bleed. 

You take his hand in yours. It tremors from your touch. “No, you can’t𑁋” You purse your lips together urgently. “They want you to walk into their trap. Into their goddamn execution chamber.”

He doesn’t pull his hand away. He lets you hold it, allowing your gaze to wash over the blooming scrape as if it’ll be enough to make it fade away. You feel the restraint in his body, as if he’s trying to hold in the imperceptible signs of pain he may be feeling. He’s breathing harder than he should, and still holding your hand like he doesn’t want to let go. 

Then he looks at you, really looks at you, for the first time since stepping into this hellhole. And it nearly destroys him to see worry carved in your features. He’s never seen this look on you before, never seen you𑁋the Daily Planet’s most passionate and sharp-witted journalist𑁋this scared before. For him. 

His jaw tics.

“I have to stop them,” he mutters. “It’s what I have to do.”

He’s about to move. You can feel it in the way his body shifts. You still refuse to let him go. 

“There’s a vent, northside of the building,” he informs you softly. “It’s a tight squeeze, but it’ll take you outside. Reinforcements are already on their way. I’ll hold them off so you can get out.”

“No,” You insist desperately, clinging to his sleeve. “You’re hurt, you’re bleeding. They’ll𑁋”

“Please.”

His voice cracks from the singular word alone. God, you want to argue. To cry. To kiss him hoping that this entire thing was just a figment of your imagination. But you can’t. This nightmare is real. 

The realisation settles in your bones like ice. 

He bends down a little to press his forehead against yours. You relish the closeness, allowing your eyes to fall to a close. While the world has gone mad outside, there’s a brief period of stillness that makes standing in this quiet, grimy hallway less suffocating. Slowly, your fingers release his sleeve, one-by-one. 

“If you die in there, I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” You whisper shakily, trying to summon any semblance of strength in your voice𑁋yet, it wavers anyway. 

The barest twitch of his lips is the closest thing to a smile you get. “Deal.”

You open your eyes to look at him again𑁋just in case. Just in case this is the last time you get to. He doesn’t say anything, only leaning in to press the gentlest of kisses to your forehead which makes your heart squeeze tightly. It burns. Not from heat, but from the pain of goodbye disguised as tenderness. 

“Go. Run,” he demands. “Don’t look back.” 

You hesitate. Just for a second. And then you turn on your heel and bolt. 

Your footsteps echo down the corridor, fading faster than he’s ready for. You don’t look back. You can’t. Because you know that if you do, you’ll turn around and never leave. And he needs you to leave. Staying might only hurt him even more. 

Maybe that’s what love is sometimes: letting go of something, even when one piece of you is begging to stay. 

Superman𑁋no, Mingyu𑁋watches as your figure disappears around the corner. The softness in his gaze hardens back to steel. He brings his eyes down to the unconscious guard slumped down the wall, stepping over to crouch down. 

He begins to rifle through the man’s pockets swiftly. There’s no time to waste. At the corner of his eye, he spots one of the kryptonite pendants hidden underneath the man’s jacket. Other things that he finds are pretty standard: extra rounds of ammo, a pistol, a radio muttering purely static, a tactical knife. All of it is completely useless to him. But then, his hand brushes against something cold and metallic in one of the inner pockets.

He pulls it out𑁋a small, lead-lined case, which alone is already a red flag, and an access card. 

Mingyu pockets the card before flipping open the tiny hatch, bracing for what he already suspects. Inside, there’s kryptonite, but it seems to be purposely melted into a liquid, metallic state, pulsing green like a heartbeat. The buzz from the radiation itches at the edges of his strength. He digs a little deeper into the man’s pockets, and he flinches when something sharp caresses his skin. 

A syringe. It’s sleek, probably custom-made, the kind you don’t find in a standard military-grade medical kit. No, this was made for a purpose. They’d planned to get close to him, inject him. That’s why they needed you. You were the bait𑁋the knife they’d twist into his gut the moment his guard drops. 

And it nearly worked. 

Mingyu crushes the syringe in his hand without a second thought, the material melting inwardly before crumpling to the ground like a pile of dust. They used you. They took you from him. Toyed with your life and hurt you, left bruises on your wrists that he can still feel under his fingers.  

It’s not rage that powers him now. 

It’s you. 

A bullet barely grazes his cheek, flying past him and hitting the wall right behind him. 

He doesn’t flinch. He’s bleeding, but he hardly lets it phase him. 

Mingyu’s body moves before he could even think, instincts sharpened by fury. He lunges forward, grabbing the armed man by the collar and slamming him into the floor hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. The rifle clatters uselessly to the floor, and Mingyu crushes it with his foot. 

Another soldier comes up at Mingyu from behind𑁋the soft click of the safety being released heightens his senses𑁋and he spins, sweeping the attacker’s legs out from under him. Before the man could hit the ground, a loud crack bounces off the walls as Mingyu’s fists meets his jaw with a forceful punch. 

Pain rattles through his bones. He’s getting weaker by the minute, as if there’s some invisible noose tightening with every breath he takes. But he has to keep going. He has to. 

He limps past the carnage of unconscious bodies, his breath ragged, shoulders rising and falling heavily with the effort to stay upright. The hallway ahead of him stretches before his eyes, flickering lights buzzing overhead. He makes one turn. Then another. And another. 

He stops in his path.

A dead end, but it doesn’t forgo any sort of hope; in fact, quite the opposite. A steel, reforged door looms in front of him. Unlike the other doors in the place, there’s no handle for this one. A keypad glows faintly on the side𑁋red, locked tight. But he remembers the access card he pocketed earlier from the guard.

Taking it out of his pocket, he swipes it.

A soft beep. Then a hiss.

A gust of cold air meets his face as the door slides open slowly. For a moment, he doesn’t move𑁋his instincts scream at him that something is off, that something is wrong. But he steps forward anyway, walking inside the room as another wave of nausea courses through him. 

His eyes squeeze shut, and he takes a minute to labour his breathing. One exhale. Two exhales. Three exhales. It’s relieving, even for a little while.

Then he opens his eyes.

And his heart drops.

The room is vast and eerily silent. The walls are lined with what appear to be glass chambers, some sort of stasis pods. They’re large, cylindrical-shaped, condensation brewing through them so he’s unable to fully see inside. He makes his way over to one of the pods, running a bloodied hand over its icy surface. 

Mingyu nearly collapses down on his knees.

There’s a body inside. A woman, probably around his age. Her eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, her skin pale. Yet as he gazes over her still form, his mind suddenly racks with memories, recognition. This woman was on the list of people who were reported as a missing cold case at the very beginning. She was here all along, and the thought makes frustration blaze through him.

Then, another feeling slithers up his spine. He can feel it right down to his core, and it makes him stagger a few steps backwards. The same physiology. The same dormant power thrumming beneath her skin𑁋except, it’s lifeless now. Pulseless. 

The people who were reported missing weren’t humans.

They’re Kryptonians. 

Kryptonians who had survived the fallout of the planet, just like him. Mingyu thought he was the only survivor, but he wasn’t. They were here this entire time, and he couldn’t save them. 

God, he had hoped. Somewhere, deep down, he had hoped that he wasn’t entirely alone, even if the loneliness was a fact he’d come to accept over the years. He had hoped that maybe one day, he’d find another Kryptonian out there who could tell him stories, or even what the stars looked like from his home planet because he was way too young to even remember. 

He anguishly dashes from one pod to another, spotting more familiar faces from the missing person photos. Faces that look like his𑁋that feel like home. Some older, some younger. All stolen from the world and stripped of the chance to live like him. They all contain the same lifeless visage as the others, the same fading look of longing that there was freedom out there, but he was too late. 

What had happened to them? Were they tortured? Experimented and researched on? Anger courses through him, and he shrugs off the disguise that had kept him alive this far. His cape unfurls behind him, and the crest on his suit is no longer hidden by grime and blood. 

The symbol of hope.

He stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by the shattered remains of his people. He feels the guilt eat away at his resolve as he kneels down to the ground. There’s a dreadful stillness in the room that follows, before he clenches his bare fists and slams harshly into the ground, the floor cracking slightly beneath him. 

It fucking hurts. 

The rage that rises in his chest is no longer a flame. It’s blazing, devouring. 

“It’s about time you showed up,” a voice says from behind, low and coiling around his nerves like the poison it is. “I was starting to think you’d turn on your tail and run away like your little girlfriend.”

Mingyu doesn’t turn around right away. His jaw tightens as he forces himself to rise to full height, pulling through the pain with gritted teeth. He doesn’t need strength to recognise the bastard standing behind him. 

He spins his head slowly, red-rimmed eyes meeting the smug, scarred face grinning at him from across the room.

Scarface is leaning against the doorframe, twirling a pistol between his fingertips. That ugly scar draws down his features like someone had tried to carve the smugness off his face and failed. Mingyu watches as he approaches him at a leisure pace, walking into the room like he’s the goddamn messiah of this butcher’s cathedral. 

“You piece of shit,” Mingyu rasps, chest heaving. “You killed them. You killed my people.”

Scarface clicks his tongue. “Killed? No, no.” He shakes his head amusedly. “We liberated them, sunshine. Gave them a purpose before their little brains shut down. You wouldn’t believe how much their bones would go for on the black market. Oh, you should’ve seen them, Kryptonian. Some of them lit up like fucking fireworks the second they got poked.”

Mingyu surges forward.

Or, he tries to.

But his knees buckle the moment he shifts his weight, a strangled noise escaping out of his throat as his legs give out beneath him. The green haze he’s been fighting since he stepped foot in this hellhole is suffocating him in. The very air is probably saturated in it. As he tries to lift himself again, it’s no use. His strength is barely there. The fire is there𑁋God, it’s there𑁋but his body is failing him. 

“Kryptonite’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Scarface squats down just a few feet away. “You know what’s really funny? I didn’t even need to do much. All I had to do was grab your girl, and you folded like a fucking piece of paper.”

Mingyu jerks his head up from that. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”

Scarface slams the butt of his pistol into Mingyu’s ribs, causing him to crumple down on the floor with a groan. 

“Struck a nerve, huh?” he sneers. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? So feisty too. All that attitude. It’s a shame, though. I can’t wait to see the sparkle leave her eyes when I’m finally done with you.”

That makes Mingyu snap again.

Mustering whatever strength he has, he manages to land a punch right at Scarface’s jaw. It catches the man off-guard, and Scarface stumbles back, momentarily stunned. But Mingyu watches as he recovers quickly, wiping the blood off his lips with a mocking smile. 

“That’s all you can do, eh?” Scarface spits angrily. “What a pity.”

“Why?” Mingyu pants heavily. “Why did you do this? To my people?” 

Scarface straightens his stance, letting out a dark, low chuckle. “Because you freaks don’t belong here.”

He gestures broadly to all the pods in the room, to all the still, frozen remnants of what Mingyu had once hoped were kin. 

“We let one of you walk among us𑁋fly above us𑁋and what do we get in return?” Scarface motions back to Mingyu. “We get broken cities, dead citizens, and a god playing dress-up in a cape thinking he knows what’s best for us.” 

“You slaughtered them,” Mingyu growls in frustration. God, he wants nothing more than to rip this man apart. “They were just trying to live. Trying to survive.” 

Scarface cocks his head to the side in amusement. “And look where that got them. Look where that got you. We took care of them before they had the chance to get power and control. You don’t get it, do you, alien? You think just because you can bleed and cry and kiss like the rest of us makes you human?”

The man steps closer to Mingyu, looming over him now, his footsteps brooding with each step. Scarface whistles annoyingly as he lowers his gun away, before pulling something out from his vest. Heat boils through Mingyu’s as another familiar syringe is summoned, the sickly glowing green of kryptonite reflecting on his skin. It’s almost as if the kryptonite itself is alive, hungry.

Mingyu doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. The veins in his neck pop from the pressure, but his eyes are made of steel. Unyielding. 

Scarface’s cracked lips twitch up into a smirk, taunting the fang of the needle closer and closer to his neck. 

“Finally! I can use this. Saved it for a special occasion, you see,” the man croons goadingly, letting the emerald fire of the kryptonite inside the syringe swirl. “Bullets and bombs are messy, but this? You’ll feel every second of it. And when it’s done, well… maybe I’ll put your corpse on display for the world to see that the perfect Superman can bleed. Can die. Can be humiliated.”

The tip of the syringe caresses over Mingyu’s carotid artery, just a whisper away from being injected into his body. If Scarface pressed a little harder, it would all be over. 

And then𑁋

A loud BOOM bursts through the room like thunder. 

A gun fires. 

But it doesn’t come from Scarface.

It comes from behind him, echoing like thunder across the room, the bullet lodging into the wall behind Mingyu.

“Get away from him,” a voice rings out shakily𑁋your voice. “Now.”

Scarface freezes, his entire body jerking as the bullet whooshes past him. His expression contorts from surprise to disbelieving amusement, the scar on his face contorting into a smirk. 

He turns his head slowly and spots you. You’re standing by the threshold, trembling hands gripping tightly onto a pistol that you snatched from one of his fallen minions. There’s a bruise to your cheek and your clothes and ID badge are covered with dirt, dried blood, and grime. Your chest is heaving with a mix of horror and fury, your body braced like the hells have cracked open beneath your feet and you’re struggling to stay above the surface. 

You’re terrified out of your mind, but you’re here.

And Superman𑁋no, Mingyu𑁋feels his heart stutter painfully in his chest, because damn, he’s never seen anything more braver in his life. 

Scarface’s eyes rake over you incredulously. “Well, look who decided to come and play the hero, hm?”

He places a singular foot in front of the other, and you aim your gun again.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” You threaten, trying to power through your sweaty palms and unsteady grip. 

Scarface raises his hands mockingly. “Sweetheart, I’m so scared. Look at you𑁋you’re trembling like a leaf.” He raises his gun back to you, which makes you stagger slightly. “Aren’t you just a journalist? Thinking you can play in the big leagues ‘cause you got a piece on the Daily Planet front page?” 

He stalks a little closer to you like a vulture, testing your nerves.

“Aliens like him don’t belong on this planet,” Scarface hisses. “And you? You think someone like him could ever really love someone like you? Come on, darling. Be honest with yourself. He’s a walking extinction event. One wrong move, and he burns you. He’s a threat to humanity.” 

The pistol in your grasp wavers. You feel it𑁋hesitation creeping through you like a dense, thick fog. The words prickle like the heat of a hot poker getting jabbed into your skin.

Scarface sees it. 

That tiny flicker of doubt. It’s all he needs to latch onto like a leech. His words seep through your body like venom. One wrong move, and he burns you. He’s a threat to humanity.

And on the side, Superman sees it as well.

The gun lowers in your hand. For a fraction of a second, you allow your thoughts to believe his words.

You’ve heard the rumours, watched the news, read the bylines that were initially published when Superman first came to light. The public loved him. Then feared him. Then loved him again. You always tried to remain neutral, like a good journalist always does. But somewhere between the time he had rescued your bag and to the kiss he gave you in the sky after the interview, your objectivity crumpled along with your heart. 

Wait. A bell rings in your head. The interview. 

“I’ve found my home here with people I care about,” he had said. “There’s something about this city that makes it hard not to love, you know?”

“Is that what you consider yourself?” You had asked him. “A symbol of hope?”

“Not exactly,” he had responded. “I think people deserve hope. I just want to remind them it’s still there.”

You remember it all𑁋the look of quiet sincerity in his eyes when he said it. The ache behind his words like he was carrying a galaxy of burdens, yet still managed to smile at you. 

“But here’s what I believe,” he had told you. “Even though I can’t save everyone, I know I saved someone. And maybe that person goes on to save others, and those others save more. That’s how hope survives𑁋it spreads, even in the places I can’t reach. And that… that’s worth the burden.”

Your gaze falls towards Superman, who is crumpled on the floor, veins bulging out of his neck, blood dripping at the corners of his mouth. He’s clutching his side with gritted teeth, practically at the verge of passing out; yet despite everything, despite how close death is wrapped around his ribs, his eyes𑁋God, his eyes𑁋are watching you like you’re the only other person in the room, like you’re the only goddamn star left in the sky. There’s no fear there. No regret. 

He’s still there. He’s still fighting.

“He’ll outlive you, sweetheart,” Scarface says with a chuckle. “He’ll outlive all of us. This stupid world is going to grow old and die, and he’ll be floating above the ashes looking down on us. And when you’re gone𑁋just another speck of dust in the wind𑁋he won’t even remember your name.”

You falter again. Just a blink. The words scratch at old insecurities like fingernails on scars. 

Your vision clouds, not from tears, but from uncertainty.

Scarface sees it like it’s his golden ticket. 

But then, there’s a cough. A weak one, yet it’s enough to break through the fog clouding your mind. Your gaze whips towards the source, and you’re met with an expression so heartbreakingly soft.

“Don’t listen to him,” Superman groans out, coughing hoarsely, and the utter familiarity of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Please. Don’t… let him in your head. I lo𑁋”

A gun fires. It happens in a blur: one second you’re frozen in place, the next your ears are ringing from the force of the shot, and there’s a pool of blood forming at your feet. The pistol clatters to the floor from your shaky hands as your steps stagger back slightly𑁋you don’t even recall pulling the trigger.

Scarface blinks.

He doesn’t fall. Not at first.

He just stares at you, stunned, as if you’ve grown a pair of wings or another head he hadn’t reckoned with before. Then there’s a twitch to his bloody mouth𑁋somewhere along the lines between a smirk or like he’s about to say one last vile, witty remark𑁋but his knees buckle beneath him, the kryptonite syringe falling from his hands and clattering to the ground. You watch in horror as his body collapses to the ground with a sickening thud. You’ve never seen blood pool faster than now, spreading throughout the steer floor below. 

You’re still holding your breath. You can’t even move, even breathe, your arms trembling at your sides 

The silence that follows is deafening. 

You stare at Scarface’s body, your mind completely blank, as if trying to reject the impossible deed you just committed. You just shot him. You killed someone. With the hands you used to type articles until dusk𑁋you used it to end a life. 

For some uneasy reason, you don’t feel heroic. You don’t feel strong. Gosh, you feel like you’re going to be sick. 

Then a low, pained grunt startles you out of your head. Superman. 

“You saved me.”

Your legs act before you could even catch up with it, finding yourself kneeling down to the ground, scrambling to pick him up on his feet, but you struggle. He’s heavier than he looks𑁋well, of course he is𑁋so you let your arms wrap around him instinctively, attempting to hoist him upright again. 

His body lurches in your hold as you’re barely able to drag him by a few feet to the door. It doesn’t take long for your effort to fail as he slumps back down to the floor again, dragging you down with him. Somewhere down the corridor, you can hear the rapid sounds of footsteps and radio chatter of emergency responders that you met when you escaped initially. You just need to hold him tighter for another minute. 

“Hey, hey, don’t do that𑁋shit, don’t close your eyes,” You plead desperately when you notice his eyes falling, brushing away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “Backup is coming. Stay with me. Please.”

“Fuck…” he croaks out weakly, and you feel his hand lace into yours. A weak grasp, but it’s there. It’s something. “Y/N, I…”

“Don’t talk,” You tell him softly, letting your free hand cradle his face to bring him into your chest. “You’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, Superman, you hear me?”

Superman breathes raggedly against your chest. You feel the way he’s burning up, see the way his eyelids are fluttering as he tries so goddamn hard to focus on your presence around him, hear the way he’s literally struggling to get his lungs to fucking work. But you still don’t let go. 

“He killed my… my people…” he rasps, a few dry coughs jolting out of him. “The missing people… they’re…”

If it was possible for your heart to physically break, you swear it does now. He doesn’t even need to finish the sentence for you to know exactly what he’s talking about. The room was entirely a blur when you stepped in initially, but with the quietness now and Scarface’s lifeless body on the floor, you can see it all. 

You remember all the photos in the files, all the reports about the missing people whose cases all went cold, unsolved, and discarded. They were never just missing people. They were survivors. And the two of you were too late to realise that. 

“I’m sorry.” You shelter him even closer to you, because you know there’s not much you can do except to hold him together as tightly as you can, even if he’s completely falling apart on the inside. “I’m so, so sorry…” 

You know that apologising could never bring his people back, yet Superman inhales your words even if it’s painful to do so, holding onto you even tighter, his warmth seeping into your skin. Blood and grime stains your shirt as he leans into you through the pain, his quiet sobs muffled as he buries his face in your chest. 

You press a warm, trembling kiss to the temple of his head. He doesn’t speak; no, he closes his eyes, dipping in and out of consciousness, and lets himself be held. 

“You’re safe now, Superman, okay? You’re safe with me.”

Above the two of you, the crest on Superman’s chest catches the overhead light, flickering weakly, but it never dims. Hope had barely survived. 

Beneath your feet, the city is peaceful. 

It’s been two weeks since the ordeal. Two weeks since Scarface’s body hit the floor. Two weeks since the sounds of gunfire etched itself permanently into your bones. Two weeks since the awful stench of sweat, blood, and gunpowder had stuck to your clothes no matter how many showers you took.

Two weeks since you saw Superman’s near-lifeless body being hauled through the hospital as the doctors and medical experts struggled to make sense of his alien biology𑁋every needle they poked through him broke on impact from his skin, but still, they didn’t give up on him. Refused to give up on him.  

Two weeks, and the city has begun to breathe again mostly. 

You haven’t slept much since.

The DOD have been working on reprimanding other criminals who had access to the kryptonite trade, and the kryptonite shipments that were found within the sketchy warehouses in Pier 13 had been confiscated as well. Details were still being poured in, but all you know is that the kryptonite is finally out of harm’s way. At least, for now.

People have been calling you a hero, a survivor. Some of your colleagues have written a little tribute column in you and Superman’s honour. You didn’t ask for it. You didn’t exactly want it. The attention has been overwhelming, to say the least.

You had just gotten through your first day back after requesting some time off to recalibrate. Now, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the rooftop at the Daily Planet. You pull your cardigan tighter around you as the evening breeze rustles through your hair. You take a sip from a can of beer𑁋a second one at your feet for good measure. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around to the voice, a faint smile when you catch Mingyu walking up to you. The glasses on his face catch the faintest sparkle from the moonlight. He’s clad in his usual attire𑁋a denim jacket, a white shirt, and a pair of baggy denim jeans𑁋and his hands in his pockets as if he’s unsure of his own presence right now. You had sent him an email a few hours again telling him that you’d be staying late tonight.

It seems that showing up is his response. 

“Hey,” You greet him quietly.

Mingyu slowly saunters over to where you are. He doesn’t sit down at first, but then you nudge towards the second can of beer by your feet.

“Peace offering,” You say with a light chuckle. “It’s probably warm now, but whatever.”

A small laugh escapes him as he sits down beside you, the tip of his knee touching yours when he crosses his legs together. He takes the can of beer and opens it with a sharp click, taking a quick sip of his own. 

Mingyu shoots a quick glance at you, watching the way your gaze is lingering out to the mellow, peaceful, blissfully unaware city. He allows himself to look out to the world as well, with the stars hanging low in the sky as if they’re curiously eavesdropping on this strange little moment. The two of you take another sip from your cans, letting the silence stretch in the air. It’s not uncomfortable𑁋not entirely, anyway. It’s quiet, calm, like the city has exhaled for the first time in a long while. 

“Did you know I spent the night in juvie once?” You suddenly pop in.

Mingyu’s brow furrows in surprise. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” You confirm, shaking your head to the memory. “I was fourteen. Dumb, broke, and angry at the world like any other teenager. Stole some makeup from the local pharmacy. Got caught before I even stepped through the door.” 

Mingyu huffs a soft laugh beside you. It wasn’t mocking, just simple disbelief about this little detail of your life. “That’s hard to imagine.”

“Well, I also had purple hair. Oh, and a lip piercing. Did it with a safety pen,” You add in with a dry laugh. “Wouldn’t recommend it at all.”

He grins softly at that. He tries to imagine it𑁋he really does𑁋but all he can see is you. Even with your past little rebel phase, you’re still the same person with a fire-lit soul he first saw when you were tackling this entire case, scribbling away in the depths of your cubicle and rummaging through endless files in the archive room with a sharp tongue and a guarded heart. 

You haven’t changed, not really. Just a little older, a little stronger. Maybe a little more tired. 

“I grew up in a place that never really felt like home,” You continue, cradling the can of beer in your hands. “Parents were always busy trying to keep the lights on. I bounced between schools and hardly stuck around enough to make proper friends.”

You feel Mingyu’s eyes on you. He’s listening, steady and patient as always. 

“Then I started writing to keep myself sane,” You confess. “Started with dumb teenage poetry, angsty blog posts, then… it sort of turned into something more real. I stole a newspaper from the library, read this piece about corruption with the mayor at the time. Something about it just clicked for me.”

Mingyu notices the way your features soften with relief. 

“So, I cleaned myself up,” You continue with a smile. “Wrote shit for the newsletter in high school, got a few internships in college. One thing led to another and well… Here I am. I don’t know if Seungcheol even looked at my resume.”

“He did,” Mingyu chimes in playfully. “Well, not exactly. More like flaunted about you.”

You snort at that, clearly amused. “That so?”

“Clearly you’re good at what you do, or else he would’ve been accused of nepotism by now,” Mingyu says with a teasing grin, before it eases into something more bashful. “And… you are, um, good. Amazing, even. I admire you. I’m sure the rest of the world would agree, too.”

Your chest tightens at his words. It’s crazy how he’s able to disarm you just like that. Kim Mingyu, the guy who spilled coffee on your shirt the first day you met. Kim Mingyu, who brings you over sweetened coffee when he knows you’ve had a rough morning. Kim Mingyu, who caught you in his arms in the archive room when you nearly slipped on some fallen files. 

Kim Mingyu, who tried to protect you from publishing the exposé on the kryptonite trade. Who stupidly ran back into the Daily Planet even with the bomb threatening the entire building. Who promised to come back, but he didn’t, and then he did𑁋

Kim Mingyu, who… may or may not be Superman.

And Superman, who you’ve kissed.

“What were you like?” You suddenly ask, turning to Mingyu slightly. “Growing up?” 

Mingyu takes another sip of his beer, and you catch the way his shoulders stiffen before relaxing quickly. His eyes flicker𑁋not toward you, not toward the city𑁋to somewhere far away. There’s the faintest hint of hesitation when the can leaves his mouth. You don’t rush him. You know how to wait.

“I grew up on a farm,” he finally answers, a wistful look to his face. “I was, um… adopted when I was younger. It was just me, my parents, my sister, and our dog. They were good people. And it was nice living out in the countryside. Peaceful, even.” 

“You? On a farm?” 

Mingyu turns to you. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“No, of course I do. It’s just…” Your voice trails off, fondness glazing over your features. “Just trying to imagine it, you know. Little Kim Mingyu running around in the cornfields with mud on his knees and a head too big for his body.”

A genuine laugh bubbles out of him. “Well, you aren’t that far off, I guess. Used to trip over my own feet all the time.”  

You hum against the rim of the can. “Explains the permanent clumsiness.”

Mingyu huffs in mock offense at that, wearing that familiar, warm, boyish grin to his lips. 

“And science journalism?” You question curiously. “What made you want to get into that?”

“Always had this sort of… curiosity about the world.” He gives a small shrug, fingers tapping against the can. “I was, uh… really into astronomy too. I used to stay up all night looking through this janky telescope my dad snagged from a yard sale. Guess I just wanted to know what’s out there, how things worked and whatnot.”

What Mingyu doesn’t tell you is that he used to look through the telescope in the hopes of finding any remnants of his origins, of his home. Not the little farmhouse with the creaky porch swing or the kind faces who raised him with warm hands and warmer hearts. No, he means the kind of home that stretched light years away, a place that echoed in his bones with a certain ache he couldn’t name. A home he had never truly seen, but felt nonetheless. 

He doesn’t say any of it; instead, he tucks it away with a remorseful sip of beer. When he glances back to you, you seem almost lost in thought again.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol buzzing through your veins or something else. “Yeah. Just… rough couple of weeks.”

Mingyu lets his eyes trail over you. The bruise to your cheek has almost entirely faded𑁋a clear reminder of the hell you’ve been through𑁋but the memory of everything hasn’t. Though to him, you still look stronger and more beautiful than ever. 

“We survived a bombing, I got fucking kidnapped, then I shot a horrible man in cold blood and it just𑁋” Your lips form a tight line. “And yet, despite all of that, I… The only thing that’s been making me stay up these nights is the fact that I fell in love with two different men.”

Mingyu freezes beside you. You don’t even have to look at him to know that he’s panicking. The breezes seem to pick up a little harder, tucking and sending strands of your hair flying that you don’t bother to fix. 

“God, I-I sound like an absolute homewrecker,” You mutter in disbelief, clicking your tongue, before fully turning to face him. “Because how is it possible that I’m able to fall for you, and him𑁋Superman𑁋at the same time?”

The words hang in the air like lightning preparing to strike. And suddenly, Mingyu forgets how to breathe. 

“I kissed him𑁋he kissed me after the interview.” Your voice grows louder now, more certain. “It wasn’t just a quick peck. It was real. Then I looked at him, and maybe it was the adrenaline, or that I’ve gone insane. But for a split second, I swear to God, I saw you, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s lips part as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. You watch the way his fingers tighten around the can, the soft crinkle of aluminum breaking under his grip. He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. His gaze only lingers straight ahead. 

You keep going. 

“I thought I was going crazy,” You go on, powering through your shaky voice. “That maybe this stupid crush I’ve had on you since the day we met was getting to me. But then I thought more𑁋how you showed up late for meetings, how you disappeared after the heist, how you caught me in the archive room, how you tried to stop me from publishing the exposé… how you look at me.” 

The silence between you both is probably more deafening and terrifying then when you shot Scarface, but this silence is filled with revelation. It means everything. 

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

He still doesn’t say anything. The only sound you hear is the crumple of the beer can from his tight grip. 

“Mingyu.” The way his name rolls out of your mouth hits Mingyu more painful than anything else. “Say something, please. Tell me I’m just projecting, or that I’m drunk or delusional or traumatised𑁋just something.” 

Mingyu’s throat bobs. His jaw clenches. His eyes close and reopen slowly, and he exhales a breath as if it hurts. 

“I’m not him, Y/N,” he admits finally, voice careful𑁋too careful.

But it doesn’t sound convincing. Not even a little.

And he knows it.

You know it, too.

A part of you wants to laugh, or cry. Or to shake him, kiss him, and hold him all at once. You barely even register standing up, your near-empty beer can forgotten on the floor.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” You retort back bitterly.

He stands up as well. “I’m not lying.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not𑁋”

“I’m a goddamn journalist, Mingyu.” You throw your arms out dramatically. “I live off of facts, off truths. I know when I’m being lied to.”

You hate how your voice cracks at the end. You’re not even mad, not in the way you thought you’d be. You’re hurt. You’re exhausted. And still, you love him. Even if you can’t provide definitive proof that the guy you kissed in the sky felt exactly like the man you love on the ground, your heart knows. It knows, and it’s pounding so damn hard it may as well crack through your ribs and scream it all out. 

Mingyu feels so torn, like he’s standing between two burning buildings collapsing in on him. This awful lump is lodged in his throat, his fists clenched at his side, but his feet won’t move, even if his own heart is telling him to. He’s still trying to protect something𑁋maybe you, maybe himself, maybe from this paper-thin illusion that he can still tape up, even with the tears showing.

Then, he watches in shock when you take a step backwards, near the edge of the rooftop. The rush of air from being thirty stories up teases up and down your back. 

“Y/N,” he warns in panic, his body tensing. “Don’t you dare.”

You don’t know what kind of madness is possessing you right now. Perhaps it’s from the lack of sleep the past two weeks, the fact you drank an entire can of warm beer, or from the sheer desperation of needing him to tell you the truth. The real truth that has been digging in the crevices of your bones ever since you looked into Superman’s eyes and saw Kim Mingyu staring back at you. 

Your heel bumps the ledge.

“I trust you, Mingyu,” You mutter shakily. “I always have.”

You take a breath.

And then you do the most stupidest, bravest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life: you fall.

The world tilts before your eyes, the rush of wind overpowering the scream of your name that Mingyu yells out. 

The city below rushes up to meet you, the air roaring like a wind turbine through your ears, the gravity tearing your stomach inside out. You can’t breathe and can hardly think; hell, you don’t even scream. Time slows just enough for a single thought to push through: This is how I die. This is how I find out I’m wrong.

The windows of the Daily Planet all become a kaleidoscope of blurred lights as you plummet past them. The rooftop disappears into the tiniest speck in your vision, the ledge you just stood on now impossibly far away. You’re starting to feel the inevitable cold claw of death latching around you.

You feel weightless and heavy all at once.

Your heart clenches in your chest, your eyelids fluttering to a close. Your limbs are flailing around on instinct to reach for something, anything. Then, you brace yourself to hit the ground because you’re falling, fuck, you’re actually falling, and there’s no going back now𑁋that maybe this was all just delusion disguised as hope, that maybe𑁋

The world suddenly halts.

A gasp flies out of your mouth, ripping out of your lungs like they’ve just remembered how to function. You find your chest pressed against another body. Firm. Familiar. Powerful. Your eyes fly open as your entire form jolts against the abrupt stop, the wind rushing around you more calmly as you realise you’re ascending, not descending. 

Then you finally look at him. His glasses are still on somehow, dark hair messed up from the force of the wind, his eyes wide with fear and panic𑁋but unmistakably Kim Mingyu. Superman.

Warmth radiates off his skin as he clings onto you, his arms tightened like a lock around your waist. You feel the way his chest rises and falls with each panicked, shallow breath he takes. There’s a tremble to his body𑁋not from exertion or the flight𑁋but from the sheer terror that he nearly lost you. 

You let your arms circle around his neck, pressing closer to him. 

“Are you insane?!” Mingyu chokes out, the clouds around the two of you billowing as he slows to a hover, away from the city, the noise, the doubt. “What the hell was that?!”

You don’t answer at first. You simply just stare up at him, the high from your adrenaline receding into something more softer, tender, raw. The city is practically swallowed by the clouds underneath you as the two of you hover in the air, existing in this space between heaven and earth, between truth and lie. 

“You caught me,” You whisper. 

“Of course, I did𑁋Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Mingyu rasps breathlessly. “If I was just a second too late, you could’ve𑁋fuck𑁋”

“But I didn’t,” You cut him off gently. “Because I was right. I knew you’d catch me.”

Mingyu swallows hard. His eyes search yours like he’s trying to find some other outcome, still hoping that in some way, you don’t see the truth and that he can walk away from all of this. But it’s over. You know, and he knows you know. You’ve always dug deeper, looked harder than anyone else𑁋hell, it’s your job.

And maybe in some twisted, beautiful way, you were meant to find him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly. “I… I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t. Because if I told you, you’d see me differently. I would’ve put you in danger. God, I just wanted to be normal for you. To be Mingyu for you. Not the guy who can fly or lift buildings for a living.”

“We already lived through the danger, and survived,” You tell him desperately, your fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes. “And I’m still here. I never left and I don’t plan to. You don’t have to be so brave around me, you know.”

His body goes rigid from your words as if someone had punched him in the gut with a force that could rival a hundred bullets being shot at him. His grip on you never eases; if anything, he holds you even tighter, fingers tracing aimlessly circles at your waist as if trying to remind himself that you’re here. You’re real.

Mingyu hears your heartbeat thundering your chest, and he swears to himself it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“You terrify me.” His lips twitch upwards. “And dammit, I love you for it.”

Your breath hitches at that. The air around you grows silent, like the world itself is holding its breath as well. You reach up to trail a finger down his cheek, before tenderly cupping his face in your hand. Mingyu leans into your warmth as if he’s waited a hundred lifetimes to be allowed this. 

His eyes fall to a close before reopening again to look at you. But it isn’t just a glance𑁋no, he’s looking like he’s trying to memorise you, like he’s afraid to even blink. 

“I love you too,” You confess quietly.

Then you kiss him.

It’s soft, almost uncertain at first𑁋just a tentative brush of your mouth against his. Mingyu’s breath catches the second your lips meet his, his eyes widening for a split moment as he peers down at you with nothing but longing.

Then he simply just chuckles, low and breathless. His hands slowly trail their way up your spine, his other hand wrapping around more protectively around your waist. He tilts his head adoringly, pauses to blink, before leaning to press his mouth back to yours. This time, the kiss is deeper. Slower. And so impossibly gentle it nearly breaks you.

He’s kissing you like Kim Mingyu, and holding you like Superman.

Your hand reaches up to cradle the nape of his neck, fingers lightly threading through his hair. A sigh leaves him from your touch𑁋a breath of surrender, of relief, of finally, sending trembles all the way down to your toes. His nose barely brushes against yours as the angle shifts slightly, his chapped lips molding more fully into yours, coaxing your mouth open with a sweetness that sets your skin ablaze in the softest, most devastating way. 

The clouds hug dreamily around the two of you as you part away for air. You find your foreheads pressed against one another, your hand drifting to rest on his chest. You feel the way his heart is pounding, as if it’s overfilled to the brim with nothing but love. He’s holding you like you’re something fragile, precious, his. 

“You make me feel human,” Mingyu whispers shakily. “Like I belong somewhere.”

You tenderly brush the tip of your finger over his cheekbone. 

“You are human, Mingyu,” You tell him reassuringly. “Because only someone truly human would love the way you do.”

He stares at you like he doesn’t deserve to be looked this way. All his life he’s always been… different. He was the third grader who’d run away into the janitor’s closet crying because he accidentally broke the swing set at recess. The teenager who couldn’t join any sports due to the fear he’d break someone’s ribs. The adult who could save the world but never fully belong in it. 

But here, in your arms and under your gaze, he’s never felt more safe, wanted, and loved. 

Mingyu leans in again, littering tiny kisses over your skin𑁋from your forehead, to your nose, your cheek, a lingering one to your lips, each one eliciting a low giggle out of you. The sound makes his heart swell.

When he pulls back, there’s a breath of hesitation in the air. His gaze silently flickers between your eyes, to your mouth, and back up to your eyes again.

“Can I, uh…” He swallows thickly. “Can I… take you home?”

You blink dazedly at that, but as the words register, the corners of your lips twitch upwards. 

“Take me home?” You echo teasingly. “Is this your way of seducing me?” 

Mingyu’s ears instantly grow red.

“What? No𑁋I mean, yes𑁋wait, shit, that’s not what I𑁋” He fumbles over his words like he’s completely short-circuiting. And honestly, he really is. “I didn’t mean it like that𑁋okay, maybe I did, but𑁋fuck.”

You can’t help but laugh. Like really laugh. The kind of laugh that bubbles from deep within your chest and makes you throw your head back at his sheer adorableness. He’s literally stammering like a teenage boy trying to ask out his crush to prom. The sound of your laughter curls around Mingyu like sunlight, the tips of ears growing warmer from embarrassment. 

“Mingyu,” You call his name after taking a minute to recover. “Relax. I’m just teasing.”

A sheepish pout crosses his features. “You’re evil, you know that? You’re gonna kill me one day.”

“You’re literally invincible.”

“Not to you.”

His words make your smile falter𑁋just for a second, your heartbeat thudding unevenly in your chest.

“I just… I want to be real with you,” Mingyu continues bashfully. “I want to hold you when I fall asleep and wake up to you in the morning. I want to take you on a thousand dates and argue about who left the dishes in the sink. I want… more than just saving the world. I want to do everything with you.”

Then his voice dips just slightly lower, still plagued with that certain shyness.

“And yeah, I want to kiss you. A lot. Probably for the rest of my life,” he adds in with a smile, before it softens. “And maybe more than that. If… if you want that, too.”

Your lips part slowly, warmth blooming throughout your body. You simply stare at him. Not because you’re surprised𑁋as you literally fell off a building just to prove your stupid heart right𑁋but because of how goddamn earnestly, nervously, hopefully he says it. Like the thought of having you is still something he doesn’t deserve.

You want it all with him, too.

“Okay,” is all you say.

His eyes widen. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” You cup his face again, caressing a finger over the corner of his lip. “Take me home, Superman.”

Mingyu’s arms only tighten around you, and he presses one last kiss to your temple.

“Hold on tight.”

And then, the two of you are soaring through the skies.

Mingyu lands you back at your apartment.

It’s quiet inside. Your feet brush against the old wooden flooring, which is scruffed and faded in some spots. The walls are pretty much bare of any childhood relics except for an old photograph or two. Mingyu spots shelves of old case files, stacked notebooks, and a tiny little succulent plant. The couch appears second-hand, a little sunken in the middle, with a blanket on the arm that’s seen better days. 

There’s a kind of loneliness in the walls that Mingyu picks up immediately. It’s lived in, but barely. You’ve never really let anyone in here.

Still, Mingyu doesn’t say a word.

You watch the way his gaze trails over every crevice of your apartment, as if he’s stepping into a secret, into your own heart. And in a way, he is. He’s been to the edges of space and seen the worst humanity has to offer𑁋yet being in your little half-empty apartment is what feels the most real.

You find yourself pouring a glass of water in the kitchen as Mingyu’s fingers curiously trail over some of your old investigative journalism textbooks on the shelf.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not much,” You mutter, placing the glass back on the counter. “Never really felt the need to decorate, honestly.”

The emptiness of your apartment doesn’t bother him𑁋it never could. Mingyu crosses the room without a word, and you hardly have time to process his presence as his arms wrap around you from behind. You melt into him naturally, his warmth seeping through the layers of your clothes and caressing over your skin. 

As his breath hits the shell of your ear, tingles run up and down your spine.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters. “You let me in. That’s more than enough.” 

Before you have a chance to respond, he kisses you.

Not on the lips, not yet𑁋he presses his mouth to the nape of your neck, then another one to your shoulder, tracing his little constellations on your skin along the way. You shudder from his touch, knees almost buckling, and you feel the smile on his face as he chuckles into your neck. 

“Mingyu…”

Mingyu hums against your skin. “Mhm?”

You nearly combust when his kiss lands near your collarbone.

“Do you, uh…” You start, already breathless. “...want to go to my bedroom?”

Mingyu lifts his head at your question. You don’t even have to turn to know he’s already smiling.

Before you can say anything more, he’s spinning you around and scooping you up in his arms effortlessly like you weigh literally nothing. Your legs instinctively wrap around his torso, a surprised yelp leaving your lips.

“Jeez! Warn a girl first!” You gasp, half-panicked, half-excited.

“Sorry, baby,” he mutters with a grin, arms wrapped securely around your thighs. “Perks of the job.”

He carries you through your little apartment with confidence. Your head rests on his shoulder, your giggles mingling in the heavy air together as he strides down a small hallway. When he arrives in front of a door, he nudges it open with his foot𑁋before realising it’s your bathroom.

“Mingyu! That’s the bathroom!”

“Shit, sorry!” He backtracks quickly, embarrassment flooding his cheeks as he tightens his hold on you. “My glasses don’t let me use my x-ray vision here! I’m working with human eyes right now.” 

You practically die of laughter in his arms, hearing him grumble something under his breath before arriving at the correct door. He gives the door a little poke with his shoulder, and as he steps over the threshold into your bedroom, the air seems to thicken even more.

Just like the rest of your apartment, there’s nothing much here either. Just a bed, with disheveled mismatched sheets that you didn’t bother to fix in the morning, and a singular lamp flickering right next to it. Under the window, moonlight pours all over a small desk that has a bunch of scattered papers and an unopened laptop. A few pieces of clothing are sprawled out on the floor, and you silently curse at yourself for not being more prepared for this. 

Even then, Mingyu treats it as if it’s your palace, and that you’re the queen within it. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed, bringing you snugly into his lap. His arms don’t let go of your waist, and his eyes never leave your face. 

You’re straddling him now, knees pressing into the bed on either side of his thighs. Your hands rest lightly on his shadows, and he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes as if he’s in complete awe of you. As if he can’t believe you’re real, and you’re here, and you’re his. 

“You’re shaking.”

“I know,” he breathes out. “I just… don’t want to hurt you.”

You shake your head at that. “You won’t. I trust you.”

That makes Mingyu pause for a moment, as if your words hit him square in the goddamn chest. Mingyu hardly trusts his own strength, and especially in a situation like this, he would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you. Whether it’s intimately, emotionally, anything, he’s never been more afraid of breaking something so precious as you. 

But you said you trust him, and that makes him want to be better, softer, stronger all at once. Just for you.

He leans in to kiss you again. This time, it’s a lot less playful, less teasing. Just slow, deliberate, and so goddamn soft you might as well spontaneously combust. Your hands instinctively wrap around him, his denim jacket falling off his shoulders and landing somewhere on the floor. You barely even register it coming off𑁋too lost in the way his lips mold sweetly and perfectly against yours. 

When he pulls back, his eyes remain peering up at you through those dorky glasses, at the way your lips are kiss-swollen and body heaving with shallow breaths. You don’t even have to hear him say anything, but you understand what he’s trying to convey: I want this, but only if you want it too. There’s a flicker of hesitation, before he reaches down to grab the hem of his white shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.

You immediately freeze up.

Because holy shit.

He’s sculpted like a statue. Like Michelangelo said fuck this, let’s sculpt Mingyu. Even in your shitty apartment lighting, his golden skin radiates. You know that he’s strong𑁋you’ve seen the way his suit hugs his figure and how he walks around at work not realising he’s built like a Calvin Klein supermodel𑁋but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. 

Your eyes trace over the smooth lines of muscle over his body, over his chiseled torso and abs that look as if they’re carved from literal stone, over his stupidly kissable collarbones. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands. Or your lungs, at this point. 

When Mingyu notices how stunned you are, he blushes. Blushes.  

“I𑁋was that too fast?” he questions bashfully. “Sorry, I just thought𑁋”

“No,” You respond too quickly, still practically gawking at him like a Victorian woman seeing an ankle for the first time. “It’s okay. You’re just… a lot to take in.”

“Do you want me to put it back on?” he asks sheepishly.

A scandalised look crosses your face. “No. God, no. Don’t you dare.” You lean in to press a kiss over the skin covering his heart, one of your hands caressing down his stomach. You hear the sharp inhale that escapes him, and you smirk against his skin. “I love seeing you like this.”

You meet him back eye-level, reaching to grab the frames of his glasses, pausing for a moment to ask permission with your eyes. When he gives you the faintest of nods, you slide the glasses off his face and set them aside, and you’re met with the most beautiful, warmest, honey-brown eyes ever. 

You’ve seen his eyes before, obviously. But without the glasses, without the disguise, they’re more piercing than ever. You feel as if you’re staring into a pair of galaxies, and you could pinpoint all the stars within them. He isn’t just Superman. He’s also Mingyu. Your Mingyu.

“Hi,” You whisper.

He smiles bashfully. “Hi.”

You almost want to laugh. You’re both ridiculous. Because here you are, nervous like two hormonal teenagers and blushing like you weren’t close to dying not that long ago. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

Mingyu kisses the inside of your palm. “I think I’m freaking out. In a good way, of course.”

You smile at that, leaning in to press your forehead against his. You hear the shaky exhale that leaves him, before his head tilts to meet your lips again. You feel his fingers trail up your waist, pushing off the cardigan you’re wearing off your shoulders, as his mouth moves down even further.

Your breath hitches when you feel his lips meet the corner of your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, his fingertips hesitantly slipping underneath the hem of your top like he’s asking for permission to keep going. He’s giving you time to stop this if you want, but you don’t. You don’t want him to stop. 

You answer by lifting your arms up, letting him pull your shirt off to join the other clothes on the floor. You’re left in just your bra now, and Mingyu just stares.

He doesn’t pounce on you𑁋just lets his gaze roam over your form like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. His jaw tightens with restraint as he drinks you in, taking in even the tiniest imperfections that dot all over you, his hands adoring every sight of new skin being revealed to him. You barely have any sort of chance to feel self-conscious when he kisses you again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a line of kisses over your collarbone, the curve above your breast, and one above your heart. “Every part of you.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m half-naked on top of you,” You retort playfully.

His brows draw together at that as he glances up at you mischievously. “I’m saying it because it’s true, sweetheart. The half-naked part is just a bonus.” 

Your laughter dissolves into a breathy sigh as his thumbs tread tenderly over your ribcage. You move your hips again𑁋just a subtle, completely unintentional grind on his lap, enough to have a sound that nearly resembles a whimper tumbling out of his throat, and his hands gripping onto your hips a little more tighter. 

“Sorry,” You murmur breathlessly, though there’s a sparkle of mischief in your eyes. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he breathes out, voice low and wrecked. “Never be sorry𑁋fuck, angel, you’re driving me crazy…”

It’s so hard to take in the fact that someone so powerful𑁋someone who literally has the power to lift up a tank on his shoulders as if it’s light as a feather𑁋is trying so hard to be so gentle with you. Like he’s terrified that one wrong move shatters you, when all you want him to do is pull you closer. 

Your fingers comb through his hair as he nuzzles his face in your shoulder, taking in the way you feel, smell, and taste. 

“Superman always takes care of everybody,” You start when it’s your turn to be littering kisses at the skin of his neck. “Saves the world, the city, strangers, me𑁋but… who takes care of you?”

He stills. Just for a second. His grip on your waist loosens imperceptibly, before tightening back. You see the way the question runs around his head as if it’s his first time ever being asked something so vulnerable. 

“I… I don’t know,” he answers unsurely. 

Your heart breaks and comes back together all at once.

“Then let me,” You insist softly. “From now on, from however long you want me, let me.”

Mingyu looks up at you with hopeful, puppy eyes. 

“And if I want forever?”

You give him a smile.

“I can do forever.”

You don’t know who leans in first. You don’t exactly know how the straps of your bra have fallen over your shoulder either. All you do know is that you’re suddenly underneath him this time, and he’s still kissing you. Hungrier. Needier. 

The bed dips slightly as Mingyu fully climbs on top now, one leg slotted between yours as you find yourself practically melting into the mattress. His body is the personification of a living furnace as his chest presses against yours, skin against skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

You roll your hips against him once more to chase that particular friction over the hardness of his jeans, and he has to muffle away a groan into your shoulder. He rocks himself up to meet you halfway with a low sigh into your neck, the two of you finding a rhythm that has heat spiraling down both of your bodies and for your brains to grow foggy. 

“You’re so𑁋shit, you’re so perfect,” he rasps, voice barely audible from the needy sighs spilling out of your mouth. “You feel so good, baby.”

The muscles on his back tense when he feels your hands explore themselves over them, breath hitching against your throat. Your fingertips caress over the ridges of his spine, tracing the slope of his shoulder blades, curling into the soft messiness of his hair. Mingyu swears that perhaps you have your own kind of superpower𑁋of making him so undeniably, fondly, helpless for you. 

Bullets break in half when they hit him, he’s prevented literal buildings from falling over, and could bend steel with the singular twirl of his fingers. But when you’re here, underneath him, kissing him and making noises he’ll replay in his mind for the rest of his days, he turns into literal mush. Kryptonite isn’t the only thing that weakens him.

It’s you. 

“I think I understand it now,” he mutters against your skin.

Your body buzzes with heat as you look at him. “What?”

Mingyu pulls back to look at you, a lump bobbing in his throat. 

“Desire.”

He says the word like it’s some otherworldly discovery. As if he’s heard it from somewhere, maybe read about it, seen it when lovers skip down the streets with their hands clasped together. But he’s never felt it like this. Not until now. Not until you. 

“I never knew it could feel like this,” he says quietly. “This need to… touch you. Be close with you. Not just physically, but gosh, hearing your heartbeat makes me go insane.”

You giggle at that, and it sends a cheeky, silly smile crawling over Mingyu’s face. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh. You’re always so scarily serious all the time when you’re in your zone, but now? Now you’re all soft and radiant and so unfairly sexy in a way that makes him ache to know what other things he can make you feel. 

“Mingyu?”

Mingyu hovers above you, one hand propping him up beside your head and the other drawing circles near the waistband of your pants. “Yeah?”

“I want you,” You confess. It doesn’t come off shy, not anymore. “You… don’t have to hold back with me, okay? You can let go𑁋I want you to.”

That’s what undoes him right there. He gives you the most affectionate grin known to mankind. 

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes, a singular breath away from your lips. “Okay. Letting go. I… I can do that.”

This time, when he kisses you, it feels like you’re flying again.

Mingyu makes love to you just like how he fights𑁋with the same passionate fire in his veins and the protectiveness of someone willing to break himself before he ever lets harm touch you. And it isn’t just about pleasure; no, it’s about safety. It’s about surrender. Vulnerability. 

It’s about loving you with the same unrelenting force he uses to save the world𑁋this time, only softer. Sweeter. And only a certain type of love that belongs to you.

The second you check the time on your watch, the elevator dings in front of you. 

Your heels clack against the floor as you step inside with a sigh, pressing a button to your desired floor. Your bag is slung loosely over your shoulder, the strap threatening to fall off from the weight of your laptop and whatever the hell you have inside is. You’re too busy scrolling through your upcoming meeting agenda on your phone. The Daily Planet is as alive as ever for a Monday morning, but here, you’re lucky you can breathe for once. 

You catch sight of your reflection on the mirrored walls on the elevator before leaning back against the cold metal with a sigh, letting your eyes flicker close for a moment as the door starts to close. 

But before the doors are able to seal shut, there’s a sudden clang, and the metal shudders as if it’s been crushed with some kind of forceful pressure. 

You jolt in surprise as the elevator doors groan back open, revealing none other than Kim Mingyu clambering clumsily inside wearing an extremely apologetic expression on his face. He takes his hand off the elevator door, where you notice a visible dent had formed from what you assume to be how hard he grabbed the damn thing. 

“Shit,” Mingyu mutters, staring at the dent like a guilty puppy as the elevators struggle to close back again. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.”

You roll your eyes. “Gyu, that is literally government property.”

He winces at that. “I got too excited!”

“For what?”

“...seeing you.”

Your expression softens despite yourself, struggling to bite back a smile as Mingyu places himself right next to you, your shoulders momentarily brushing. His hair is a tad bit windswept from probably flying here, and his glasses slightly askew on his nose. Half of his dress shirt is tucked into a pair of dark slacks, his tie half-done, and yet, he still looks like the most kissable man on Earth right now.

As the elevator begins to rise slowly, Mingyu glances over at you too. 

“You look nice today,” he points out casually.

You blink, peering down at your own outfit. It wasn’t too much out of the ordinary𑁋just a more structured blazer, a formal blouse, a bit more effort in your makeup, and your hair styled in a way when you actually want to appear like you have your shit together.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat, warmth sprouting in your cheeks. “Got a meeting later in the afternoon with out-of-town journalists. Thought looking intimidating would make it go by faster.”

A grin crosses Mingyu’s face as his eyes roam over you once more. “Well, you do look intimidatingly hot, if I do say so myself.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Mingyu.”

“What?” His grin only widens. “Is flirting with my girlfriend a crime now?”

You try to glare at him, but it’s not effective at all with the way you’re suppressing a stupidly fond smile. “Flattery won’t fix this elevator door.”

“That’s totally unrelated.”

“It looks like a rhino charged head first into it.”

Mingyu chuckles sheepishly. “I’ll… fix it tomorrow, maybe. After hours. No one will know. Or I can bribe maintenance with cookies again.”

You could only scoff. He’s such a dork.

The elevator hums as it continues its ascent into the upper floors of the building. Right next to you, Mingyu’s hand brushes against yours. First by complete accident, second on purpose. You don’t pull away when his pinky nudges against yours. Instead, you allow your fingers to lace around his, and you immediately feel the way he relaxes. 

It’s quiet in the moments that follow, yet your heart is completely betraying you and you know he can hear it.

The two of you have been together for almost five months at this point, and yet, it feels like it’s only ever been day one. The hardest part was keeping your relationship a secret at first, especially from the newsroom, but then Minghao told you that you both have been fairly obvious ever since the kryptonite case. You didn’t even try to deny it because there was no point.

Especially not when Mingyu would sometimes hover outside your bedroom window, tapping gently on the glass to say hi before flying off on another rescue mission. Or when your coworkers always noticed the two of you walking in and out of the building together. Or when you’d randomly go missing for lunch and return all flushed, hair tousled, and somehow in a better mood. 

You turn to face him, letting go of his hand momentarily to fix his tie, tugging gently at the silk resting at the base of his throat. You feel his hands trail down your waist as he stands still while you tighten it. When your fingers brush over his collarbones, he tenses naturally, though he still wears that boyish smile to his face.

“Still meeting me for dinner tonight?” he asks.

You smooth out his dress shirt over his chest. “Depends. Are you flying me to Paris or Italy this time?” 

Mingyu hums contemplatively, his fingers tightening a little more around your waist. “Hm, I was thinking more like Greece. Or Japan, maybe. I know you’ve always wanted to go there. Heard it’s cherry blossom season over there.”

You tilt your head as you pretend to think. “Tough choice. Greek sunsets or Japanese cherry blossoms?”

“Baby, I could take you to both, you know.”

You snort, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Clearly you forgot we have actual jobs that require us to, I don’t know, show up.”

Mingyu sighs dramatically, pushing back some loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Right. Damn capitalism.” He lets his eyes roam over you adoringly. “Okay, how about just my place tonight?”

“Isn’t Wonwoo going to be there?”

“Don’t worry. He’s grown into the art of minding his own business.”

You grin at that. 

The ding of the elevator interrupts your banter, the doors𑁋still dented from his overly enthusiastic entrance𑁋sliding open to reveal the classic chaotic routines of the bullpen. Mingyu retracts his hand from your waist, straightening his posture in the hopes of masking away his besotted features. You flip back into your professional stance too, fixing your blazer and flicking a glance to the time on your watch.

The two of you step out onto the floor together. The frantic morning bustle of the newsroom quickly fills your senses: interns rushing by, the clattering of keyboards, a printer breaking down somewhere in the corner, and people yelling out deadlines in your ears. When you stop at your desk, you watch for a few seconds as Mingyu sidles past you to head to his own cubicle just a few steps down. 

However, just as you’re about to sit, a loud voice booms through the newsroom: Seungcheol.

“Mingyu! Y/N! Office now!” 

You freeze halfway in the seat, meeting Mingyu’s equally startled gaze across the room, his hand gripped around his rolling chair. Letting out an exhale, you set your bag down on your desk with Mingyu following behind you over to Seungcheol’s office.

The blinds of Seungcheol’s office are halfway drawn as the two of you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Seungcheol is sitting at his desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pragmatic look to his face. He doesn’t even have to glance up as he cracks a manila folder open on the desk. 

“Alright, Bonnie and Clyde,” he starts as you and Mingyu sit down. “I’m pairing you up again.”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow, shooting a side-glance toward Mingyu, who looks just as curious and baffled as you are. It hasn’t even been long since the two of you were paired up on the kryptonite trafficking and Scarface incident, where near-death was just a slip away from your fingers.

Seungcheol opens the folder, revealing a cluster of surveillance photos from what look to be press conferences, a particular figure standing out in every single one.

“Recently, the President-elect has been appearing in places he shouldn’t be,” Seungcheol states, sliding the photos over the two of you.

“The President-elect?” You repeat, staring down at the images. “As in, President-elect Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Precisely,” Seungcheol responds eagerly. “He’s been spotted here in Seoul, then Metropolis, Gotham, Beijing, nearly everywhere.”

You lean in closer to photos, feeling Mingyu beside you do the same. Sure enough, there he is𑁋President-elect Yoon Jeonghan wearing his signature dark suit, waving gracefully at crowds, shaking hands with sick children in a hospital, all with that perfect charming smile on his face. He appears undeniably poised, pristine, and politically untouchable. There’s something quite eerie about it. 

However, there are also some photos taken from security cameras in the middle of inconspicuous dark alleyways, military divisions, and unregistered facilities. All the photos were taken in different locations around the world. But what catches your eyes are the timestamps on the photos.

They’re all merely hours or even minutes apart.

“That’s not humanly possible,” You remark incredulously. “Any information on travel records?”

Seungcheol shakes his head grimly. “Nope. His press team claims he’s been prepping for his inauguration in Seoul and only travelled three times the past five months. The intelligence team is pretty divided on digging even more about this. But I know when something isn’t right, and clearly this𑁋” He motions over the photos. “𑁋isn’t just normal presidential shenanigans. I need to know if the man who is about to lead this country is actually who he says he is.”

You and Mingyu exchange another look. He’s frowning now, jaw tense. You can practically see the gears turning in your head. It’s clear he’s thinking the same thing you are. 

This isn’t just a scandal, or a simple case of political corruption. It’s a threat waiting to detonate.

“Alright,” You say, clasping your hands together. “We’ll take it.”

“Good.” Seungcheol leans back in his chair. “But keep this off the record for now. We don’t want to cause a nationwide panic. Whatever you plan to write, take it up with me first. He’s still the goddamn President-elect, so watch your backs. Both of you.” 

“Yes, sir,” Mingyu states solemnly, already gathering back the photos in the folder.

“And look, I don’t care what the hell is going on between the two of you,” Seungcheol starts, eyes flitting between the two of you. “But I do know the last time I partnered you two, we broke the damn site’s traffic record and scored a Pulizter nomination in the process. So don’t disappoint me, alright? Meeting’s over.”

The two of you start to saunter your way out of Seungcheol’s office with materials gathered under both of your arms. However, just as Mingyu is about to close the door, Seungcheol calls out to him again.

“Kim! One more thing.”

Mingyu pauses with his hand still on the doorframe, poking a head back in the office. “Yes, sir?”

Seungcheol doesn’t look up from his papers he’s scavenging through, but his voice cuts through the room like a knife. 

“Try not to die this time, yeah?” 

It comes off way too casual for Mingyu’s liking, laced with that familiar gruff Seungcheol charm that’s gotten him through years of leading the newsroom and dealing with incorrigible employees. The man basically implied that he knows in some way, somehow. Mingyu’s jaw twitches from nerves, before easing into a tight-lipped smile. 

“Noted… uh, sir.”

Seungcheol waves him off curtly. “Amazing. Now get back to work.”

And so he does. Mingyu quietly shuts the door before sheepishly meandering his way over to where you’re already perched at your desk and setting the files down. You smile when you catch him coming up to you, and the look on your pretty face is quick to dissolve any lingering nerves he has.

“So, partner.” You place a hand on your hip. “Guess we’re working together again.”

“That seems to be the case, Cronkite,” Mingyu retorts teasingly. 

You tilt your head fondly at the nickname, peering up at him curiously.

“Are you ready for this?” 

Mingyu glances down at you. He doesn’t answer, not at first𑁋just takes you in with warm eyes as if you’re the centre of the damn universe, noticing every flicker of excitement and hint of worry that paints your features. He may be Superman, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel scared sometimes. 

Especially when it comes to you𑁋someone who he doesn’t just love, but someone who he would quite literally move through heaven and hell for. Someone who makes every mission worth surviving. Someone who he chooses again and again every damn day. 

You’re standing there in front of him with your lips pressed in that determined line he knows all too well. Brave. Brilliant. Unafraid to chase the truth even if it kills you. And God, he swears he falls in love with you all over again.

“With you by my side?” Mingyu starts, lips quirked up as he steps up closer to you. “I’m ready to take on anything, my love.” 

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[rhaenyraeri]

Co-Star Tensions Part 3 - Jack O’Connell

minors dni, 18+!!

Part 1, Part 2, Interlude, Part 3

listen to trash magic by lana del rey while reading bc it’s what inspired a bit of this hehe

Pairing: Jack O’Connell x fem!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Jack is rocky, having been long distance since the week of reshoots. But it’s finally the Sinners premiere day, and you get to reunite with the cast, and most importantly, Jack. Will the spark still be there?

Warnings: filth. oral (fem!recieving), dirty talk, teasing, dry humping, swearing, unprotected sex (pls wrap before you tap)

Word Count: 4.4k+

Note: this is the final part of co-star tensions :( but never fear! i got a need for jack o’connell and a want to write so i’ll have more fics soon hehe but thank you all sm for the love given to this short little series <3

Since reshoots ended, you and Jack had gone on a couple of dates. The two of you decided to go slow with the relationship seeing as it started on the terms it did, wanting to just take time to be with each other and grow a good, comfortable bond. You were in contact extremely often with him, some days calling for hours on end. Reshoots ended a couple of months ago, and today was the first day of press, which means it’s the first time since a week after filming ended that you’d saw Jack in person. Both of you had projects that were starting, so you were forced to be long distance. He was in England for a new show, and you in the States, preparing for a movie you’d scored while filming Sinners.

But tonight, finally, the two of you were to be reunited, during the red carpet premiere for the movie. It’d been too long since you last saw him, the late night calls due to time zones weren’t cutting it. To have a conversation with him that wasn’t over the phone or to talk about each other’s days without yearning to trace your fingers on his arm. It’s all you both could think of. You weren’t technically official, but it was kind of unspoken knowledge that you two were head over heels for one another.

Your stylist made a few final touch ups to your hair and makeup before deeming herself content with your look, and she lead you outside her hotel room and back to yours to grab your jewelry. You were to meet up with your best friends, Wunmi and Hailee, in the lobby and arrive together. As you made your way out of your room, you stopped to look at yourself in the mirror, admiring the work your stylist had done on you. She made you look flawless, and you were so grateful to have such a wonderful stylist. She smiled as you mentally praised her work, and grabbed your hand to lead you to the elevator. “Thank you so much, I feel like I look red carpet worthy,” you praised her, placing a hand on her arm lightly. “It’s because you are. You’re gonna look amazing out there tonight. I’m so honored to be your stylist.” The elevator opened as you thanked her once more, bragging on her job well done. As the doors opened, you saw your friends talking with Michael and Ryan near the entrance. They all looked amazing, and you couldn’t help but feel so much pride for how hard this team worked on this movie, and tonight the world would finally be able to see that work pay off. Ryan and Michael went on ahead so they could get there for the interviews early, knowing the lines of reporters and interviewers would be double the amount the rest of the cast expected due to the most important roles they played in the film, as director and main protagonists. You, Hailee, and Wunmi walked out with your arms linked, cameras flashing and calling your names as you entered the black SUV.

A few short exchanges with the drivers and assistants were spoken, before a relaxed silence filled the car. “So, you ready to see your man tonight?,” Hailee started, obviously excited for you to openly show your relationship after months of pining. A light blush warmed your face as you smiled, and Wunmi smiled brightly at you, “How long has it been? 2 months since filming basically?”

“Yeah. around that. We had a couple dates before he had to go back to the U.K. for a project. I’m so excited to see him tonight, girls.”

They smiled warmly at you, knowing your feelings about him all too well, and they were glad that you didn’t have to hide behind the awkwardness during filming. They knew you like a book by now, and they could tell by your demeanor tonight that you were more than ready to see him. The two women were your best friends, and the fact that they both were so encouraging and supportive of your relationship with Jack made you love them more. They never judged, never spoke negative. If it made you happy, then that was all that mattered. You couldn’t be more thankful for them or the rest of the crew for how welcome and loved you felt on this set. Tonight, you were finally able to voice your passion for this project to the audiences.

The drive to the red carpet felt like an eternity, anticipation slowing time down as you looked out of the window, taking in the sites of New York City. When the SUV stopped, you were zoned out, and the only thing pulling you from your thoughts was Wunmi grabbing your hand and giving it a shake before whispering something you couldn’t make out, then turning to her assistant. You snapped out of it and looked towards her, the flashing lights and red carpet illuminating behind her. Chills ran down your spine; sure, you’ve been to red carpets before, quite a few actually. But this one was your first one for a horror film, antagonist role, and overall the biggest role you’ve had to date. As you slid out of the back seat, a hand reach out in front of you.

“Would you like a hand, my love?”

You audibly gasped, immediately taking Jack’s hand to guide you the rest of the way out of the SUV. He grabbed your arm with his other hand, helping you down like you were a princess. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you wrapped your arms around him.

“Oh, it’s so good to finally see you again, Jack! I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you more darling, I’m sure. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight, such a beauty,” he admired. It’s been so long since you’ve saw him not through a phone screen, or heard his voice not through muffled earbud speakers, or since you’ve touched him, felt him, embraced him. You pulled away to look into his eyes, and put your hand on his cheek.

“And you look even more handsome than the last day we spent together. I didn’t even think that was possible.” He leaned in to kiss you, and you felt his hand grab your waist. Bright lights shuttered rapidly as you kissed, which prompted you both to pull away as you realized the press were all now looking at you. There were most definitely going to be questions about that tonight, articles tomorrow, and a high conversation for the days, maybe even weeks, to come of the premiere events. You laughed as you looked at the interviewers on the carpet, most looking at the two of you. “We’ve already given them something to talk about, huh?”

“Yeah, well, what’s one more, eh?” You turned to look at him, and he cupped your face to give you another kiss. This one with more excitement than the last, more fervent, probably from the attention, and finally being able to show your feelings for each other. The cameras flashed again, this time making you both laugh. You slid your hand into his, and the two of you made your way onto the red carpet.

For the most part, the questions you faced were about your performance in the movie, and a few unique questions from some influencers. Of course, as expected, you were asked about the kiss. You were truthful obviously.. for the most part. True that you were together for a couple months, but not how the relationship came to be. As far as you could tell, Jack experienced the same types of questions, and for that you were grateful.

Before the movie premiere started, everyone lined up to take photos for the press in front of the Sinners display. As you met back up with Jack, his hand immediately slid around your waist to bring you into his side. He leaned close and whispered, “Love, you have no idea what you do to me. Lookin’ the way you do.. so fucking gorgeous,” before kissing your forehead and smiling sweetly at you, like he didn’t just turn you on in front of hundreds of people. He looked you up and down, scanning the way the dress laid on your body. He wanted you then and there, and thankfully he remembered the crowd watching, or else it would’ve been damning. You smiled for the pictures, and turned back to him to whisper, “Oh, I think I know, honey. I’ve got a pretty damn good idea.” To everyone watching, it was a sweet interaction, you fixing his tie, and him planting a loving kiss to your forehead. To you, it was teasing, pulling his tie just enough to antagonize the need he had for you. To him, it was blissful to see you get riled up before him, like you did that first time months ago. All those weeks prior, riding his thigh on set in costume, in character.

The two of you were sat away from each other when the movie began, seeing as no one knew of the relationship, resorting to how it was before; stolen glances and longing stares across your fellow co-stars. You couldn’t focus on watching for thinking about how you wanted to be sat next to him, to hold his hand and lean your head on his shoulder. But here you were, 5 co-stars apart. When the scene at the juke joint of Remmick telling Grace that he ‘knew how she liked to be licked,’ came on the screen, you felt eyes piercing straight through your soul. You glanced over, and the sheer lust covering his face made your heart flutter. He knew how you liked to be licked. For damn sure, he knew. The rest of the movie felt different after that, the more you tried to not focus on that, the more you ended up thinking about it.

Finally, the movie ended, and the audience cheered, giving a standing ovation for 6 minutes. Slowly, your senses came back to you, and you reveled in the praise that the crowd was giving you and the cast. The two of you, once more, stood next to each other, with his arm around your waist. The grip he had this time was more firm than earlier at the start of the premiere. His thumb rubbed your side, hand moving up and down to feel how perfect your body was to him. How it felt in his hand, how he wanted to hold you like that forever. Most of the post-movie questions were pointed towards Michael, Wunmi, Hailee, and Miles. Towards the end, the questions were asked to you and Jack, thankfully avoiding the kiss on the red carpet, but still asking about the scenes the two of you had.

When the premiere ended, you signed some items for fans and press alike, and got into the SUV. You were the only one from your car ride down that was ready to go back to the hotel, so the driver went ahead and took you back to give Wunmi and Hailee time to sign the copious items that were offered and to do a few more quick answering of passing questions. You brushed your dress off once you were in, and took a deep breath. “What a night,” you muttered under your breath. Your assistant laughed and said, “I’d say so. You shook me up, too. How long?” You gave her a good idea as an answer, but dodged the more private details. She just looked at you and smirked, almost like she knew but didn’t want to pry entirely. As the SUV pulled up to the hotel entrance, you made your way into the lobby and she excused herself to speak with some other cast members’ assistants. You told her good night, and pressed the elevator button. While you waited, you thought about what he did you to tonight, making you a mess underneath your calm composure. You planned to call him when you got to your room, to see if he would be free to hang out tomorrow at either of your hotel rooms. You messed with your rings as you waited, and finally the elevator dinged.

You looked up, and there he was. Already there, waiting for you in the elevator. You stepped in, keeping yourself calm until the doors closed. You pressed the button for your floor and turned to him. Before you could get a word out, both of his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with fervency, desperation, and desire. You ran a hand to his hair, giving it a light tug before lightly pushing him against the wall, matching his desperation with your own. One of his hands left your face and went to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before running back up to your waist. The elevator stopped, the ding disrupting you. You turned to see if anyone was there, but thankfully there was no one. He kissed your neck as you scanned the hallway, biting a little as he went. He broke from you just long enough for you to lead him to your room, and as you went to reach into your dress pocket for your key card, the hand on your waist had already slid in and got it. You turned against the door, returning the favor of kissing his neck as he unlocked it. As the door swung open, you immediately got to work undoing his tie. He kicked back to shut the door, and started taking his suit jacket off. Backing further into the room, he turned you so that he was in front of the bad, and sat down, breaking the kiss. You stood between his legs, and he grabbed a fist full of your dress.

“Oh, fuck, love. That fuckin’ dress had me bothered all night, but I need it off. Now.”

You opened your mouth to tease him, but decided it’s not the time for that. You reach down to grab the bottom of the dress, and he leaned back onto his elbows to watch how your body stretched as the fabric unveiled the figure before him. His breathing got heavier, his mind racing with what he wanted you to do to him next and what he wanted to with you. You kicked your heels off to across the room, before moving to put your body on top of his, pushing him fully onto his back. Your lips met his, the passion hotter and messier than before. His left hand ran up your back, and into your hair, gripping a fist full of it tight. You moaned into the kiss, causing him to growl at the sound of your pleasure. You crawled onto the bed more, breaking your kiss, your legs now straddling his waist. He looked up, cursing at the sight of you.

“Your shirt. Take it off. Now,” you demanded in the same tone as he did to you, voice dripping with desperation and words laced with passion. His fingers worked to unbutton but that took too long, so you reach down and ripped it apart the rest of the way. “Tell your stylist it was an accident.”

He nodded absentmindedly, slid it off his arms, and threw it onto the floor beside the bed. You bent down to run a hand up his now exposed stomach and chest, and then back down, working on his belt. You unbuckled it, but stopped. He looked up at you, mild confusion on his face but soon turned to pleasure as you started to grind your underwear clad pussy on his still completely clothed erection. His hands grabbed your waist, rolling you on him at the right pace. “Fuck, baby, look at you. Grindin’ on me like that, keep going baby, feels so fuckin’ good,” he praised. Your soaked pussy has wet his pants, the sensation instinctively making him grind back into your hips. Your moans mix with whines, each rut against him matched with his own thrust. “I need you so fucking bad, baby. Mmm, so bad.” “Yeah? You need me? Keep fuckin’ riding me like that, gonna take real good care of you love.” He sat up, his hands still on your waist. A low, gutteral moan leaves him as he slightly repositions himself. His grip on your waist tightened, rolling you against him even deeper, to where you can feel outline of his dick rubbing between your pussy. He puts his face between your breasts, biting your bra lightly. “Take the damn thing off,” he demanded, and you obeyed, reaching your hands behind you to undo the latch. Before you could even drop the bra, his mouth latched onto your neck, then down between your breasts. He kissed between them, slowly biting, then the left, and back over to the right, giving each a good suck, making sure to leave a mark on each one.

“I’m.. I’m gonna cum, Jack,” you moaned out, getting lost in the sensation of his mouth on your chest and your soaked pussy getting close to an orgasm. “Uh-uh, not yet,” he abruptly stopped you from continuing, standing the two of you up before turning you around so that you were now in front of the bed. He lightly pushed you back onto the it, taking a second to look at you before him. Your hair disheveled from the rough grip he had, your chest red with bite marks and hickeys, and your underwear soaked into a darker color from humping him. There was nothing more beautiful than this, your body ruined by his touch, reveling in what he caused. He looked down at you for a while longer, before he moved to lay half on the bed to get face level with your pussy, pulling your legs apart a little to get a look.

“Look at that, she’s soaked for me. All this ‘cause of me? Fuckin’ hell, you can’t keep her covered from me all night, right, love?” You stayed silent, breathing heavy but you gave a quick head shake of ‘no’. “Nah, that’s not enough. I need you to speak to me, darling. Use your words.”

“No. No, I can’t.. I need you, please.” With that, your hips rolled at the demand of his touch. “Since you asked so nicely,” he pulled your underwear off and spread your legs farther, his tongue darting out to get to work on you. Oh, that sweet, sweet taste that he missed so much. He could spend the rest of his days between your thighs, drinking up every little bit of pleasure you released. The sounds of your slick and his mouth filled the otherwise quiet hotel room. Your hips bucked up to get more access, and he growled, laying an arm across them to hold you down. He got deeper and deeper with his tongue, farther into your pussy than you ever thought possible. He sucked against our clit, moaning against you with each attempt you made to buck against his mouth. You moved your leg onto his shoulder, wanting to give him better access to his favorite meal. Instead, he stops, pulling away from you before standing up. His face is covered in your slick, licking his lips to clean up a little bit of the mess. “Look at you, literally wet as water for me. I need more, darlin’.” He grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You squeal from the sudden movement, and look to meet him the eyes just as he gets on his knees in front of you. He throws one leg over his shoulder and then the other, and spits on your pussy. “There we go, that’s more like it,” he shoves his face right back into your pussy, rutting his tongue into you like you’re the last water source on earth and he’s dying of thirst. He sucks your clit, savoring the taste of you like he’ll never eat your sweet pussy again, like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to have your thighs on his shoulders. His fingers grip your thighs, holding you in place. The sounds from you become more sinful, more desperate for him to be even further into you. He licks further down your center, so far that his nose brushed against your clit, and the moan practically screamed out of you, your pussy clenched at the feeling. The more he did, the closer you got to your orgasm. “I’m.. I’m so fucking close.. Please let me cum, fuck..” you plea, as your thighs tremble like earthquakes on his shoulders. He moans a “mm-hmm” against you as an answer, and a few deep ruts of his tongue later, you cum, harder than you have before in your relationship, your moans loud and almost pornographic. He’s still between your legs, cleaning up the mess as he feels some of your release drop onto his chest. “Jack, please, I’m too sensitive..”

He gives a displeased “mmm” against you one last time before pulling off with a pop, completely out of breath and face red, lips swollen. You look down at him with your mouth open at the sight. He swallows deeply before moving your aching thighs off of his shoulders one by one. He stood up, taking in your body once more. “Fuckin’ hell, baby. You taste like heaven.” He looks down on his chest af the little bit of your slick mixed with his spit that dripped onto his chest. He ran two fingers over it, collecting it for you, “Open.” You did as he said and he put his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself and his spit, running your tongue over and between his fingers. He pulled them out, immediately replacing them with his own mouth, kissing you hard, your slick now on your own face too. He stood back up, reaching for his belt. He pulled it through the loops in one movement, thanks to you unbuckling it earlier, and tossed it across the room, taking his pants and underwear off in one swift motion. Your heart rate quickened, your body warmed up, and your breathing became labored. The look he had locked onto you was filled with desire, his eyes dark from lust. You backed onto the bed a little to give him access, and he crawled up to hover over you, and kissed you messily, sloppy, even. You both moan into the kiss, deepening it. Your hand grabbed his hair again, forcing his face to be as close to yours as possible. He slides a hand down your body, then to his dick. He breaks the kiss and pushes himself into your still soaked pussy, making sure to keep his eyes on you as he entered you. Your face contorted into sheer pleasure as you finally, finally felt him inside you. The times during reshoots satisfied the cravings but did nothing in the long run, but now you both are struck with pleasure that has been built up for months. You open your eyes to meet his, and your faces match each other, the sensation of finally having sex was intense. The tension that built up during the first round of filming was one thing, then the reshoots, then the time on set, in the prop closet.. nothing compared to this. His thrusts were slow and first, just reveling in the moment, before you both could tell you needed more. His pace began to quicken, his grunts getting louder in your ear. He props himself up over you with one hand on the headboard and the other finding its way to your own hand, holding it lovingly but tightly beside your head. You put your right leg over his back, giving him the indication to go deeper. “Oh, fuck Jack, you treat me so well,” you praised him, words coming out more as moans than cohesive words.

“You feel like fuckin’ heaven love. Fuck, you’re so tight. Mmm, so warm, so good for me, so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He growls in your ear, leaning closer to your neck before kissing it. Your moans became more rapid, more sensual, and whinier. He bites on your neck, then sucks, getting to work to mark you with hickies. The hand in his hair grips even hard, invoking a grunt from him as he sped up even more. “Fuck, baby, I’m so close, fuck,” you say between moans, your words barely cohesive to your own ears. All you can focus on are the sounds of his hips slapping into yours and his own moans and grunts in your ear. “Me too, love, Goddamn, you’re so fucking perfect for me.”

With a throaty “fuuuuck,” he releases into you, and you follow immediately after with the whiniest, fucked out moan into his ear. He leans down to kiss you, both of you still out of breath but still want to keep that touch. He pulls out of you and lays down beside you, pulling your exhausted figure into his side. There’s moments of silence, aside from your breaths slowly calming down and the air conditioner quietly turning on. You move to lay your head on his chest, looking up at his face. His free hand grabs the small blanket that almost got knocked off the bed and lays it over the two of you, the hand rubbing your arm pulling it farther over.

“So, we’re uh, we’re gonna need a hotel room together the rest of this promotion. There’s no way around that,” you laugh. You were staying in the same hotel but there was no way that after tonight, you would be able to stand being separated.

“Absolutely. We need to get on that as soon as we can. Oh, and uh, I’ve finished filming in London for the series. I figure I could stay in the States with you for a while, if you’ll have me?”

“Are you kidding? I’d love that, Jack. I can’t stand being away from you, this has been driving me insane.”

There was no way either of you could handle any more of the long distance, the months apart felt like years. No one would understand the connection you two had from your events on set or over the phone for months, but it ended up working for you.

“You know I love you, right?,” he whispers before kissing your forehead. You look up at him, giving him a slight smile and kissing his jaw.

“I do, you know I love you too, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do, my darling’.”

—

Taglist: @moyavsemoya, @faephoria, @carriemill, @livlifehope

[reiderwriter]

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 

-X-

[absinthe-over-tea]

either way it's gonna || the pitt

pt 3 <<prev • next>>

pairing: jack abbott x f!resident!reader warnings: age gap (older man/younger woman), allusions to child abuse, suicide/drug overdose, canon-typical death a/n: Shit's about to get just a little✨messy✨. I've been legit floored by the response to this story so far. Thanks to everyone who's along for the ride with me on this. Pls let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list! Not beta read.

Everyone knew. Heather wouldn’t tell anyone about your work crush on an attending, and you certainly hadn’t told anyone else. But somehow, everyone seemed to know. Not only about your incredibly embarrassing and continually growing feelings for your attending, but there was also something else. It felt like you were consistently on the outside of a joke everyone else was privy to.  

It started with a raised eyebrow from Perlah after a standard intubation. Dr. Abbot had poked his head in looking for Robby, but ended up sticking around until you’d stabilized the patient. 

“You know I always appreciate the assist, but you didn’t have to stay. I had it under control.” 

“You always do,” he mused, that small ‘proud teacher’ smile on his face morphing into one of apology. He started to step back toward the door. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” 

“You didn’t!” you rushed to say, maybe a little too quickly. You took a breath before continuing, trying to recover some semblance of nonchalance. “But I know you were looking for Robby, so…” 

“Right, yeah, I should go, uh, find him for handoff. He wasn’t on the roof when I checked.” 

“I saw Gloria hovering earlier. Maybe check that surgical on-call room he thinks we don’t know he uses to hide in.” 

You both chucked, and he nodded in agreement. He hung in the doorway for an extra second, like maybe he wanted to say something else. But then his eyes darted to Perlah, who was extremely focused on the vent settings, and with a final tap to the door jam, he was gone. 

When you turned back to the patient to do a final vitals check before paging the ICU and moving on to the next case, Perlah was giving you a look. 

“What?” 

She shook her head, a grin plastered across her face. “Nothing.” She mumbled something in Tagalog under her breath on her way out of the room, and you made a mental note to ask Santos what the word ‘bobo’ meant. 

A few nights later, Myrna cornered you as you were leaving after your shift. 

“You’re not slick, sweet cheeks” 

“Excuse me?” you all but choked on the drink of water you’d just taken from your Hydroflask. 

“I saw you, checking out Dr. Abbot when he walked by earlier. You were checking out his ass!” Her voice was filled with mirth, but the volume made your eyes go wide. For the love of God, you hoped no one had heard her. 

“I was doing no such thing, Myrna!” 

“If you don’t climb that man like a tree, I will,” she warned. 

“You go ahead and try,” you laughed, giving her an encouraging thumbs up and taking backward steps away from her as quickly as possible to escape further interrogation. It’s a very good thing for everyone involved that Dana had cuffed her to her wheelchair that evening. 

Two weeks later, and it felt like all eyes were on you every time that you and Dr. Abbot were in the same vicinity. 

“There’s a pool,” Samira kindly informed you one morning, both of you looking at the board with thermoses in hand. You’d grumbled under your breath about people having a staring problem after noticing multiple sets of eyes glued to your brief and perfunctory hello exchanged with Dr. Abbot on his way out the door. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“There’s a betting pool on what’s going on between you and Dr. Abbot. I think just between the nurses right now — they’ve been trying to keep it from Collins since everyone knows you two are friends.” 

“That feels… wildly inappropriate,” you said eventually. 

Samira laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “It is. But you know how the gossip mill is around here. And Dr. Abbot’s been around more since you joined. Coming in a little earlier at night, doing handoff with Robby a few minutes later. It has people intrigued.” 

Her admission had the gears turning long after she’d excused herself before Robby could give her shit for staring at the board for too long. There were a million explanations for the supposed change in behavior. Maybe Robby asked him to start being around more to help during the transition of you settling after Langdon’s departure. Heather had said she’d been more worried about Robby since PittFest, maybe he felt the same and was around more to keep tabs on his friend. 

But there was a little voice in your head that hoped maybe it had something to do with you. 

It was all very disorienting. You were not this person — confused over whether some guy did or didn’t like you, reading into every casual touch and slightly-too-long-to-be-accidental stretch of eye contact, having inappropriate thoughts about a superior at work. 

You liked to keep work and your personal life in two very neat boxes. It keeps things from getting messy, and it helps you compartmentalize. That way, you don’t take out your frustrations with your mom or a rough night on your patients, and you don’t bring the bad days when you lose more patients than you save to Sunday brunch with your childhood best friend who just got engaged. 

Admittedly, The Pitt had already blurred those lines in more ways than one. Your close friendship with Heather, the girls' nights out with Samira, Santos and Garcia, the farmer’s market runs with Mel before baking with her and her sister.

But crossing a line into anything more than colleagues with Dr. Abbot felt infinitely more dangerous. Maybe the betting pool was wrong and it was just a coincidence that he was around a little bit more than before. Maybe they were right and he also felt whatever this was between them. 

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Nothing was going to happen. The lines were drawn, and you were happy to keep things exactly as they were.  

Of course, you should have known that as soon as you’d decided that, universe would find a way to flip you a middle finger. 

*** 

When Jack stopped by the nurse’s station before finding Robby for handoff, Dana gave him an indecipherable look. 

“It’s been a rough day.” 

“They always are,” he murmured, more to himself than Dana. He went to pick up a tablet, but one of Dana’s hands reached out and covered his own. 

She told him about the college student who’d been brought in after her friend found her lying next to an empty bottle of pills after a big fight with her dad. How you and Robby got her intubated, but the hypoxia had already caused irreversible brain damage. How the girl’s father had come in and started screaming at you until Robby had restrained him and Dana had called security on him. The way you’d reacted after.

“I’ve never seen her shut down like that, and this is far from the worst loss she’s seen. I’m worried about her. And you know how Robby is with drug overdoses these days.” 

Robby took the drug cases harder ever since finding out about Langdon. Jack thought it had something to do with guilt over not seeing the signs sooner, the knowledge that had Santos not reported him, he could have ended up as an OD in one of their trauma rooms. 

But he swallowed hard at the thought of you beating yourself up over the case. It clearly wasn’t your fault. He assumed you must have been terrified by the thought of the patient’s father potentially getting aggressive with you, and he knows how that fear can shut you down, though he’s a little shocked at the idea of anything scaring you. To him, you always seemed somewhat fearless within the walls of a trauma room. 

He thanked Dana for the heads up and went to find Robby, assuming he’d be on the roof. But when he opened the door, his heart twisted with pure terror at the sight of you sitting there on the railing, too close to the edge for comfort.

You didn’t turn to look at him, though he knew you had to have heard the door. He tried to make his steps loud enough for you to hear him coming closer, not wanting to startle you. You didn’t even look at him as he came to stand next to you, just blankly staring ahead. 

“Y’know, you’re sort of in my spot,” he said lamely, grasping for anything to break the silence. To pull your gaze to him instead of whatever fixed point you’d chosen on the skyline. 

You shrugged. “You and Robby always come up here after a rough day. Figured I’d see what the fuss was about.” 

“Be sure to leave a Google Review.” It was a stupid joke, but you huffed in what was almost a laugh. He took it as a good sign. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he promised as he gently wrapped a hand around your wrist where it sat next to you on the railing. “But can you do me a favor and come back to this side of the railing?” 

Your gaze shifted first to where your hands met, then to Jack’s face. He’d tried his best to sound casual, not let any of the worry seep into his voice, but the look you gave him confirmed he was unsuccessful. You nodded, easily swinging your legs around until your feet were back on what Jack considered safer territory. 

He let go of your wrist, but you reached out and grabbed onto his arm. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to scare you. I just…needed some air. Needed to breathe without the smell of antiseptic. Be somewhere that wasn’t the ED.” 

The relief that flooded through him was instant and overwhelming. He didn’t want to think too hard about what it meant. 

“I get that. And I meant what I said — you don’t have to talk about it. But if you need someone to talk to, someone who gets it, I’m always around to listen.” He leaned his head down, making sure you met his eyes as he spoke. 

“I’m usually good at holding it together, compartmentalizing. But it’s been harder lately,” you admitted, voice breaking at the end as you looked up at him, and fuck, Jack could see how hard you were fighting for control, trying to hold everything you were feeling at bay. He knew exactly what that felt like, and how destructive it could be when the dam finally broke. 

He couldn’t stop himself. “Come here,” he murmured softly, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight against his chest. “Let it out, sweetheart.” Your hands clutched onto the fabric of his scrubs, and he could feel the fight drain out of you as you let out a sob.

It occurred to him that this was something sacred, you trusting him like this. That when you’d needed comfort, you’d gone to the roof. His spot. Maybe it was subconscious on your part, but warmth filled him at the idea that you’d inadvertently gone searching for a piece of him.

You both stood there for God knows how long, him whispering into your hair as you fell apart. Assuring you it was alright, that he had you, that you were safe. 

Slowly, you came back to yourself. Your shoulders stopped shaking, your hands softened against his waist, your breathing returned to normal. He could have happily held you against him like that forever, protecting you from the world while you pieced yourself back together — patients and night shift handoff with Robby be damned. 

But eventually, you took one last deep breath and pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “Sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“You might need a new scrub top,” you nodded toward his chest, which was now sporting a wet spot from your tears. He just shrugged; he could honestly care less. “And I’m sure I look a right mess right now,” you joked weakly, disentangling one of your arms to wipe your nose with the long-sleeved shirt you had on under your scrubs. 

He allowed himself a rare moment to fully take you in, from your red-rimmed and glassy eyes to your flushed skin to the strands of hair now stuck to your cheeks. 

“You still look beautiful to me,” he whispered before his brain could remind his mouth why he wasn’t supposed to admit things like that out loud. Your eyes widened in surprise, darting back and forth between his in search of something. 

He hadn’t meant to tell you that, but Jack had always been a stubborn man. He wouldn’t take the words back now that they’d escaped. Instead, he forced himself to continue meeting your gaze, letting you see just how much he meant it and preparing himself for you to pull away and let him down easy. 

Except you didn’t pull away. He watched enraptured as your decision clicked into place in that pretty, brilliant head of yours, and you leaned up to press your mouth against his. 

The kiss was soft, quick. Before he even had a chance to fully process what you’d done, you were pulling back and waiting to see what his reaction would be. For a split second, you both just blinked at each other. 

“Jack,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, the question in our voice, and his mouth crashed back into yours. 

This time, the kiss wasn’t soft or quick. It was messy, desperate. Months of pent up tension and swallowed feelings being let loose. One arm held you anchored against him while his other hand slid up your neck to angle your jaw just the way he wanted. “Say it again,” he demanded against your lips. 

You didn’t have to ask him what he meant. “Jack,” you gasped into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip. Your fingers dove into the hair at his neck, pulling yourself flush against him.  

Kissing you was all-consuming. Nothing existed except the two of you and this warmth taking root in Jack’s chest that he hadn’t felt in so long. He wanted to drown in the taste of you. He wanted the world to stop spinning so he could stay on this roof, this god-forsaken roof that might now be one of his favorite places on earth, forever.

The door to the roof banged open, and you both broke apart at the sound. Robby was standing frozen in the doorway. 

You pulled away from him like you’d been burned. “I’m so sorry, I have to go.” 

Before Jack could fully process what was even happening, you’d slipped past Robby and disappeared back down the stairs without so much as a backwards glance.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list: @brnesblogposts @nosebeers

[sweetlikemonie]

𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓

football player!onyankopan x black!stripper reader

word count: 4.5k words

content warnings: 18+ minors pls go awayyyy, porn w/some plot, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap ur willy!), rough sex, lots of dirty talking, spitting, spanking, use of pet names, daddy used maybe once or twice, kinda? semi-public sex, oral receiving ( fem + male), light dubcon (just tagging cause reader is slightly under the influence), you’re not a twinkie this time but a toaster strudel, light degradation

author’s note: thought of this and IMMEDIATELY got to it 🤭like this lowkey got me out of my writing slump (maybe..fingers crossed!!). hope you guys enjoy tho i tried to make it as nasty as possible for my man. reblogs, likes, & comments are greatly appreciated as always!

The luminescent lights flashed all around you as you strutted through Aquarius, the nightclub where you had spent countless nights dancing. You were just weeks shy of your three-year anniversary—what had started as a ‘get-rich-quick’ scheme had become something you couldn’t see yourself leaving anytime soon.

Although you knew this wasn’t where you wanted to retire, your day job as a second-year student majoring in psychology, with dreams of becoming a Forensic Psychologist, kept you grounded. But what could you say? You loved the money. It paid your bills and tuition while affording you a lifestyle you had only read in magazines and seen on TV screens.

The fast money and fast life were intoxicating—an adrenaline rush that your everyday existence couldn’t give you. Regardless of your green-eyed coworkers, who had tried to sabotage your bag few times too many, or the unsettling customers whose once-adoring admiration had turned into obsession, you stayed.

You were known to many as Siren, and you lived up to the name’s full potential. Your seductive moves and effortless sensuality captivated the attention of many, making you a favorite among the club’s clientele. You had more than a few regulars, their loyalty ensured you remained one of the club’s top dancers.

You made it to the dressing room, taking a seat at your vanity to start your makeup. You decided to keep your outfit simple— a sheer burgundy one-piece paired with complimentary accessories along with your matching sparkly Pleasers. Pulling the clips from your hair, you let your ash-blonde layered curls cascade down your back. You knew you looked good enough to eat. Just as you were getting ready to leave, your fellow dancer and friend, Sin, walked in.

“You giving ’em hell tonight, ain’t you?” her soft voice teased as you greeted her with a warm smile.

Sin had started at the club around the same time as you, and over the years, the two of you had grown close. You learned early on that friendliness was rare in the exotic dancing world, but being new to the game together gave you both common ground. Your connection extended beyond the club, her being someone you genuinely confided in.

“I mean, you know,” you replied, giving her a playful spin and pose. “I heard it’s supposed to be some big spenders in here tonight. I just hope them niggas ready to throw them racks at a bitch!” she said, settling into her seat to get ready.

You had heard the same—word was that a few of the Kansas City Chiefs were coming in to celebrate after their win the night before.

You let out a giggle. “I call dibs on the biggest. See you out there boo.” you said jokingly, sticking out your tongue before walking out, making a beeline for the bar.

No matter how many times you had danced before, a little liquid courage always helped loosen you up for the night ahead. You struck up conversation with the bartender as she prepared your usual—a mixed drink and two shots of your favorite tequila.

The night continued on—several stage sets and lap dances later—the DJ’s voice boomed over the speakers, announcing the arrival of the stars of the night.

You had just finished your third set of the night when you saw about seven of the players walk in. They were flashy—rocking big chains and rings, their diamonds catching the light and dancing with every movement. Anything that showcased their wealth, they had it on. As you walked down the steps, one man caught your attention, nearly making you stop in your tracks—Onyankopon Jackson, the star quarterback of the team.

The deep, midnight hue of his skin made his jewelry gleam even brighter under the lights. Tattoos adorned both of his arms and you were sure they traced along other parts of his body as well. His presence was commanding, his stature intimidating at least 6’4”—a towering figure that exuded power.

You regained your composure as you made your way past their section, feeling the weight of eyes stalking your every move. You knew you would end up there sooner or later, but you just needed a minute to yourself.

Slipping into the dressing room, you reached for your makeup bag, reapplying your lip combo—a pointless distraction. You smoothed down the flyaways in your hair, taking one last look in the mirror. The faint scent of your vanilla perfume clung to the air, warm and intoxicating.

The pulse of the music hit you the second you stepped back out. The bass vibrated through the floor, syncing with your heartbeat. Lights flashed across the dimly lit club, illuminating eager faces. But you weren’t paying attention to any of them—your mind was locked on only one thing. Him.

And there he was. Leaning back with a wide stance in the VIP section, a drink in hand, casually conversing with his teammates. Your eyes met Onyankopon’s, the space between you thick with tension, the air suddenly heavy. A slight smirk curved your lips as you stepped onto the stage, the deep bass of “Hit Different” by Trey Songz blasting through the club’s speakers.

You circled the pole first, slow and teasing, fingertips grazing the cool metal as you let the anticipation build. A tilt of your chin, a flick of your hair—every movement was a silent invitation, daring everyone to keep their eyes on you.

Your hips moved with purpose, each roll slow and sensual—meant for Onyankopon and him alone. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, you gripped the pole and lifted yourself effortlessly, your body stretching like liquid fire. One leg hooked high above your head as you spun into a controlled descent, teasing the air with every motion.

Sliding down, you melted into a slow, deliberate split, fingertips grazing the floor as you arched your back. The fat of your ass jiggled behind you, a sinful display of softness and control. Your eyes locked onto Onyankopon once again, heat simmering in your gaze.

A smirk ghosted your lips before you rose to your feet, rolling your hips to the beat, every motion a siren’s call no one could resist.

As the song came to an end, you gathered the countless bills scattered around you, stuffing them into the bag you had kept beside you all night. Just as you finished, a light tap on your shoulder pulled you from your focus. It was Sin, letting you know she was heading over to the Chief’s section, ready to milk them for everything they had tonight.

Once you secured the last of your money, you made your way over, your hips switching with each deliberate step.

The music’s vibe shifted, turning more upbeat just as you began shaking your ass, the rhythm guiding your movements.

You slowly made your way in front of Onyankopon, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine as you moved your body.

Bending over, you began shaking in front of his face, teasing him with every motion. Before you could react, a firm grip pulled you forward, pressing you against his chest.

“You dangerous, mama. You know that?” he murmured, the diamonds in his grill catching the light, flashing like a silent warning. A smile teased at your lips as you continued moving against him, slow and sensual. “So I’ve heard.”

His hands lingered on your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make you feel his grip before they loosened again. You kept moving against him, slow and sensual, dragging out every second.

Onyankopon leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “You always put on a show like this, or you just tryna tease me?”

You smirked, rolling your hips deliberately slow. “Depends. You like being teased?”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I like getting what I want.” His hands slid lower, skimming over your thighs before he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. “And right now, I want a private dance. Just me and you.”

The heat between you thickened, the energy shifting from playful to something heavier, more demanding. You bit your lip, playing with the chain around his neck as if considering it. But you both knew your answer.

“Lead the way, Chief.”

With that, he stood, flashing a knowing grin before placing a stack of bills in your hand. As you turned, you made sure to sway your hips just a little more than necessary, letting him watch what was about to be all his. You heard the hooting and cheering of his teammates as you two walked away to the bottom floor of the club.

The private room was dimly lit, intimate—perfect. You placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back into the plush chair, climbing onto his lap as the music shifted to something slower, something meant for you two.

“Hope you can handle me up close,” you taunted, voice silky, rolling your hips to the low hum of the music.

Onyankopon let out a low chuckle, settling into the chair, legs spread wide as he leaned back, eyes locked on you like he was already claiming you. “That the best you got, mama?”

Your smirk deepened as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him without breaking eye contact. His hands instinctively found your waist, but you caught his wrists, pressing them against the armrest.

“No touching yet,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips before pulling back. You rocked your hips slow, deliberate, dragging out the friction between you. His jaw flexed, his grip tightening against the chair as he let you take control…for now.

“Teasin’ like you ain’t gon’ let me have you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker beneath it.

“Maybe I like seeing you squirm.” you shot back, running a hand down his chest, letting your nails graze his abs before slipping lower—just to stop short of where you knew he wanted you most.

His eyes darkened, that easy smirk shifting into something more dangerous. In one swift motion, his hands broke free, gripping your waist before flipping you onto your back against the couch. A surprised gasp left your lips, but it melted into a laugh as he loomed over you, his weight pressing you into the cushions.

“Still wanna tease me, baby?” His voice was a low growl now, hands roaming, lips hovering just above your throat.

Your breath hitched, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “Guess you’ll just have to shut me up,”His smirk deepened at your words, something menacing flickering behind his eyes. “Oh, I plan to.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on you—hot, demanding, claiming. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them with just enough force to make you shiver. He rocked against you, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of his arousal pressing between your legs.

“You talk all that shit,” he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck, “but I bet you ain’t even ready for me.”

You exhaled sharply as his teeth grazed your collarbone, heat pooling low in your stomach. Your fingers tangled in the chain around his neck, pulling him closer. “Why don’t you find out?”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, but he wasn’t about to let you have the last word. His hands moved, slipping beneath your barely-there outfit, fingertips tracing over your heated skin. Every touch was deliberate, teasing, until your hips instinctively arched against him. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, his voice thick with amusement and desire.

And then, he stopped playing.

He pushed your legs wider, his grip firm, possessive. The anticipation was unbearable, the heat between you smoldering as he finally touched you where you needed it the most. His fingers slid up and down your slit, collecting the wetness that had been waiting for him all night. “You wet as fuck. Sloppy ass pussy.” His words had an almost taunting tone behind them. Bringing his fingers to his mouth as he sucked them clean of your juices. “Just how I imagined.”

You shuddered as he lifted your dress up to your neck, kissing and licking at every inch of your body before he dove between your thighs. His tongue found your clit, and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. He began to eat you like a man starved, his tongue locked against your clit, the obscene slurping sounds making you squirm as. Your hands searched frantically for something to hold onto, finally settling on your pierced nipples.

You grinded against his face as his tongue flicked against you with hunger—desperate to make you come, to see your face turn up in pleasure, to hear those sweet moans get more frantic as you neared your release.

Not too long after, two fingers slipped inside of you, angling perfectly against that soft, squishy spot that instantly made that bubbling heat your stomach began to rise. “B-baby,” you whimpered, lifting your hips slightly, desperate for a moment’s relief.

But his tattooed arms tightened around your thighs, locking you in place, making it nearly impossible to move. Without warning, your orgasm crashed over you like a ton of bricks. Wetness spilled out of you, glistening on Ony’s face and hands as he continued his assault, his tongue working you into overstimulation.

“Thought you could handle me, what happened?” A fake pout rested against his lips, voice dripping with teasing. He was anything but sorry. He stood as he rid himself of his shirt and pants, leaving only his underwear. As you suspected, tattoos traced nearly every inch of his chest.

You rolled your eyes as he pulled his underwear down, his long, thick shift bouncing against his stomach. It was darker than the rest of his body, tip leaking with arousal.

He positioned himself against you, dick hot and heavy against your thighs. “Feel that?” he whispered, rolling his hips just enough to make you gasp. He tapped it against your clit—once, twice, three times—before sliding himself inside you.

A loud sigh left both of you as he stretched you open, letting himself sink deeper, getting acquainted with your walls. He set a brutal pace, his hips slamming against your thighs—his hands pressing you down, keeping you from running.

“You feel so good, Daddy. Do I feel good too?” you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

Your hands gripped his chain, yanking him closer until his lips crashed against yours. Your tongues tangled, both of you desperate to take control, to push the other over the edge. His chain clinked between your fingers as you tugged him closer, swallowing his groan into your mouth. His hips never slowed, each thrust hitting deep enough to leave you gasping against his lips.

“You was so big and bad, but look at you now,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to watch your face twist in pleasure. “Can’t even keep your mouth open, can you?”

He delivered a particularly sharp thrust, making your breath stutter. You tried to bite back a moan, but he wasn’t having it.

“Nah, don’t hold back. I wanna hear how nasty you get for me.”

One of his hands snaked up your throat, not squeezing—just resting there, a silent promise of control. His other hand drifted down, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, lazy circles.

“Shit,” you whimpered, legs twitching beneath him.“Mmm,” he hummed mockingly, dragging his tongue along the shell of your ear. “That’s cute. But I’m not stopping ‘til you’re crying for it.”

He suddenly pulled out, leaving you empty, your walls fluttering around nothing. He flipped you over on your stomach as you whined at the loss, reaching for him, but he only smirked.

“So impatient.” He tapped his tip against your clit again, watching you jolt. “Look at this pretty ass pussy,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through your slick folds, spreading you open. “So fucking messy for me. You want it back that bad?”

You pushed back against him, whining, but he only smacked your ass hard, making you jolt.

“Use your words, baby.” His voice was thick with amusement. “Tell me how bad you need Daddy to stretch this pussy out again.”

“Please,” you gasped, fingers curling into the sheets. “Please, baby, I need it—need you to fuck me.” That was all he needed. He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, forcing a scream from your lips as he filled you to the hilt.

Your moans turned into desperate cries, your body trembling beneath him. “Fuck, you’re so loud,” he taunted. “You like being fucked like a whore, huh?”

You could barely form words, too lost in the sensation of him pounding into you, but you nodded frantically.

His grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you from behind, each thrust making the dimly lit walls of the private dance room tremble. The bass-heavy music from the main floor thumped faintly through the walls, a sensual backdrop to the wet, obscene sounds filling the space.

“Fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, dragging a hand up your spine before fisting a handful of your hair. “Had me watching you all night, throwin’ that ass for every other nigga in the room—but we both knew who you really wanted, didn’t we?”

You moaned as he yanked you back against him, his chest flush against your back now, his breath hot on your ear.

“Say it,” he murmured, voice thick with need “Wanted you, Daddy,” you breathed, reaching back to grasp his wrist where it rested on your hip. “Only you.”

He smirked against your neck, his free hand sliding up to cup your throat—not squeezing, just holding you there, making you feel the weight of him. “That’s right,” he muttered, rolling his hips deeper, making you whimper. “And now look at you. You’re not up there dancin’ for them anymore. You’re right where you belong—bouncing on my dick in this private room, letting me fuck you stupid.”

His other hand slid down between your legs, fingers finding your slick clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles.“How’s it feel, baby?” he asked, voice dripping with cocky amusement. “Getting fucked by the same man who had half the club watching him tonight?”

Your legs trembled, your fingers clawing at the plush couch beneath you as pleasure built inside you. “Feels—fuck…feels so good,” you moaned, arching into him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling back again, his hands firmly gripping your waist. “Yeah? You gonna be thinkin’ about this next time you’re on stage? Movin’ those hips, knowing I already had you bent over in here, dripping all over my dick?”

You clenched around him at the thought, and he hissed through his teeth, smacking your ass before grabbing it roughly. “Shit, mama, you just got even tighter,” he groaned. “You like that? The thought of me watching you, knowing you’re already mine?”

Your answer was a desperate whimper, your body pushing back against him, chasing every thrust “That’s what I thought,” he rasped. Then he slowed, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in so deep you cried out. He repeated it again, each stroke slow, deep, precise—driving you insane.

“Open your mouth for me, baby.”

Your lips parted instantly, your tongue peeking out in anticipation. He leaned over you, gripping your chin, before spitting directly onto your tongue, watching with dark, hungry eyes as you swallowed without hesitation.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groaned, grabbing your jaw and pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

He pulled out of you suddenly, his hands gripping your waist tight as he flipped you over onto your back. His chest heaved, sweat glistening along his inked skin as he sat back on the plush couch, his thick cock standing tall, slick with your arousal.

“C’mere, baby,” he rasped, his voice rough from how much he’d been groaning. “Come ride me—put on a show just for me.”

You didn’t hesitate. Crawling over to him, you swung a leg over his lap, your hands sliding up his broad chest as you positioned yourself over his shaft. His hands immediately grabbed at your ass, spreading you open as he dragged his tip through your wetness.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, his gaze locked onto where your bodies were about to connect. “So messy. You ready to sit on this dick, or you gonna keep teasing me?”

You smirked, rolling your hips just enough to let his tip slide inside before pulling back up. “You tell me,” you taunted, your voice breathy. “How bad do you want it?”

His grip on your ass tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Baby, if you don’t drop that pretty pussy on me right now—”

You cut him off with a moan as you sank down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion, taking him all the way in. His head snapped back against the couch, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips as your walls squeezed around him.

“Hell yeah,” he growled, his hands sliding up your waist, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts. “Knew this pussy was gonna feel unreal bouncing on me.”

You planted your hands on his chest for balance and started moving, rolling your hips in slow, filthy circles before lifting yourself up and slamming back down. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the heavy bass still thumping through the walls of the club.

His chain clinked as you leaned in to kiss him, your tongue sweeping into his mouth, tasting him—tasting yourself still lingering there from when he’d licked you clean earlier. He groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding up your back before gripping the nape of your neck.

“Fuckin’ kiss me while you ride it,” he murmured, biting your bottom lip before pulling you into another deep, messy kiss.

You moaned against his lips, grinding down harder, the friction against your clit sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. His hands dropped back to your ass, spreading you open wider as he guided your movements.

“That’s it, baby,” he panted, eyes dark with hunger as he watched you. “Use me. Fuckin’ take it. Show me how nasty you can get.”

You braced yourself on his shoulders and started bouncing harder, faster, each drop making him grunt, his fingers leaving deep imprints in your skin. His dick was hitting that spongey spot inside you perfectly, making your legs tremble.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, watching the way your tits bounced in front of him. He leaned forward suddenly, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue.

You cried out, fingers sweeping over his low cut, pushing his head closer.

“Yeah? That feel good?” he murmured against your skin before pulling back. He looked up at you, his lips slick, his expression hungry. “Wanna feel even better?”

Without waiting for an answer, he spit onto his fingers, then reached between your bodies, rubbing his slick fingers over your swollen clit. You gasped, body jolting as pleasure shot straight through you.

“Ohh, fuck, Daddy—”

“That’s right, baby,” he groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours, amplifying the sensation. “You about to come all over me, aren’t you?”

Your body tensed, the combination of his deep strokes and the pressure on your clit sending you spiraling. You gripped his shoulders tight, your breath catching as heat coiled in your stomach.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, his voice dark and commanding. “Soak this dick. Show me how nasty you get when you lose it.”

And with a final grind of your hips, you shattered, your walls gripping him like a vice as pleasure ripped through you. Your moans turned into breathless cries, your whole body trembling.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his head falling back as he felt you squeeze around him. Your body was still trembling, thighs shaking as you came down from your high, his dick still buried deep inside you, twitching with need. His grip on your waist was bruising, his jaw clenched tight as he fought for control.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch. “Damn near made me nut just from how you squeezed me.”

With a teasing roll of your hips, you lifted yourself off him, gasping at the emptiness he left behind. Before he could pull you back, you slid off his lap and sank to your knees between his legs, your hands splaying over his thick thighs. His dick stood tall, slick with both of your arousals, throbbing and desperate.

“You ain’t done yet, are you, Daddy?” you teased, flicking your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum. “Thought a big, bad football player like you had more stamina than that.”

His jaw clenched, his hand tightening in your hair as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “You talk too much,” he muttered, his thumb swiping over your swollen bottom lip. “That mouth is way better when it’s full.”

You smirked, opening wide, sticking your tongue out, waiting.

“Mmm, that’s my nasty girl,” he murmured, tapping his tip against your tongue before shoving it back into your mouth, pushing deep until you gagged around him. “Fuckin’ love seeing you like this—on your knees, drooling all over me, like you were made to take this dick.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, spit dripping down your chin, but you took it like a pro, moaning around him, letting your throat tighten just to make him twitch in your mouth. His hips jerked, his grip tightening as he held you there, groaning.

“Yeah, just like that,” he rasped. “Bet you wanna wear my nut all over that pretty face, don’t you?” You nodded, your eyes heavy with lust, your tongue swirling around him as you sucked harder. He hissed through his teeth, his head falling back.

“Shit—fuck, I’m close,” he groaned. He pulled out, stroking himself fast, aiming right at you. “Stick that tongue out, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

You tilted your head back, tongue out, eyes locked on him as he let out a deep, guttural moan, his dick jerking in his hand as thick, hot ropes of cum splattered onto your tongue, your lips, dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, watching the way you let it coat your skin, his grip in your hair finally loosening. Slowly, you dragged your fingers along your chin, scooping up his release before licking it off, swallowing it down with a satisfied hum.

“Mmm, so messy,” you whispered, giving him one last kitten lick before pressing soft kisses along his abs.

He exhaled a rough chuckle, shaking his head as he pulled you up onto his lap, his big hands gripping your waist. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours. You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “That a bad thing?”

“Nah,” he murmured, tilting your chin up as he finally kissed you—deep, slow, like he wanted to savor the taste of himself still lingering on your tongue.

You melted into it, letting him take his time, his hands smoothing up and down your back, grounding you after all the intensity. When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare thigh. “Ain’t no way I’m letting you walk out of here without makin’ sure you’re mine.”

You grinned, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “Guess that means you’ll be back for another dance, huh?”

He smirked. “Oh, baby—I ain’t ever leaving.”

[abbotsanatomy]

FLUFF ALPHABET !

⨳ jack abbot hcs

pairing: jack abbot x fem!reader wordcount: 2,800 warnings: age gap (28 and 49), some innuendos, it’s pretty sfw! this isn't beta'd. author's note: i’m so obsessed with this silver fox…someone run me over in pittsburgh between the hours of 8PM and 8AM pls! here's the template btw!

A for Admiration What Do They Absolutely Adore About You?

Jack admires your drive. He adores seeing you excel at your field. Whenever you’re passionately rambling on about something, he’s all ears (with actual hearts in his eyes). He’s so proud of your every achievement. Even when you fail, he’s proud of your ability to recover with so much grace.

He’s never necessarily been a proud man, but he can't help but puff his chest up a little more when he watches you do practically anything. Knowing you're all his is enough to turn him into one arrogant fucker.

B for Body What Is Their Favorite Part Of Your Body?

Your hair. He likes to grab ahold of it, and not necessarily in a sexual way. It grounds him. The scent of your grocery store shampoo, mixed with that specific perfume smell that never really leaves your hair, brings him down to earth.

He likes to nose at the strands in the early morning, before getting out of bed, with his arms still wrapped around you. It reminds him you’re really there. The scent your hair leaves behind on his pillow is one he cherishes for days after you sleep over.

bonus: This might seem cheesy, but I definitely think your eyes are a big thing for him. He'd stare into them for hours. Even if you aren't staring back, he just likes to be the first to know exactly how you're feeling. And staring into your eyes is the closest he'll ever get to reading your mind. Plus, they're just so uniquely you, in a way he can't explain but certainly shows every day.

C for Cuddling How Do They Like To Cuddle? Little Spoon or Big Spoon?

His chest pressed all the way against your back, with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Only way. He’ll hook a leg over yours if he’s feeling really cuddley.

I think he just likes feeling like you're the only thing there is for a few moments. When he's got his arms wrapped around you, there's nothing else on his mind. The world goes quiet for a while, and he can really zero in on something as little as your every breath, or your every heartbeat, as he rests his palm on your chest.

D for Dates What Does Their Ideal Date With You Look Like?

Your dates are almost always simple. Indian food on the couch. Listening to albums all the way through on his record player, as you enjoy each other’s company. Cooking a meal after work. Playing a game of chess on the board you forgot you owned, which he found under your bed.

He does go all out on special occasions, though. Your birthday, anniversaries, the like. I honestly think he might forget to plan something ahead of time sometimes, but he'd still make something work that day. He's an emergency guy. He'll always be able to pull something together, even if he just has an hour. And he has.

E for Emotions How Do They Express Emotion Around You?

This guy’s so emotionally constipated he needs an enema (medical joke). You are probably the enema! That's a compliment.

He definitely just needs a good push in the right direction. He'll try to deny his feelings for you in the beginning, on account of the age difference, and his glaringly obvious issues with self worth. Eventually, he'll figure it out. He'll let himself feel it, if you help him. He has a lot to unlearn.

A few years into your relationship, he doesn't deny himself any of his emotions around you. You know when he's sad versus happy or if he's had a good day at work versus a very shitty one. It's mainly because he expresses himself better around you, but also because you've learnt all of his cues and quirks. You’re probably the only person he lets see all of him, the good and the bad.

F for Family Do They Want One? If They Do, When?

He’s never really seen a family for himself in the books. If it happens, it happens. He wouldn't ask you to get an abortion or anything like that (or shame you for your decision to get one, obviously), but it'd definitely take a lot for him to open up to the idea. It’d take a lot for him to want it.

Not that he'd be a bad father. On the contrary, I think he'd be so, so gentle and nurturing and loving, in his own way.

He wouldn't like how a family affects his job (bc let's be real, of course it does), but it's just a learning curve he'll get over. He'll deal with needing to change his shifts, or the whole being more on edge than before, whenever he sees children in the ER, but it won't be easy.

G for Gifts How Do They Feel About Gift Giving? What Are Their Habits With Gifts?

He feels gifts should always be sentimental. If they don’t have sentimental value, he doesn’t see the point. This doesn’t mean he wouldn’t buy you anything expensive. He’d definitely buy that hair thing you mentioned, because it’d make your mornings so much easier. He’d buy that ring you eyed in the jewelry store window, as you walked arm in arm at night.

He's just meticulous about the gifts he chooses. And he buys you things at the most random times. He doesn't believe gifts should be exclusive to holidays or special occasions.

It's a habit you learn from him. Anytime something nice reminds you of him, you buy it. And you know he'll do the same.

H for Holding Hands When/How Do They Like To Hold Hands?

Interlocking fingers is reserved for intimate moments in bed or in the kitchen as you sit on the counter, watching him cook dinner.

Every now and again, he'll brush his fingers against yours in passing. It’s all he’ll let himself do in public. It's enough. It steadies your breathing and reminds him you'll always be there. It's become a habit you both cherish.

I for Injury How Would They Act If You Got Hurt?

He deals with all kinds of injuries every single day. If it's something minor, like a fall, he'll still be on edge initially. Until he checks you from head to toe to ensure you're completely fine. Then, he'll crack a little smile and help you up and into his arms for slightly closer observation.

A serious injury is a whole other story. There's a complete shift in his demeanor. It's almost like he's reverted back to his military training. He doesn't let himself feel it in the moment. He focuses solely on your well-being and making sure you're receiving the best care possible.

When it's all over, and he’s safely behind the walls of your apartment, he completely breaks down. You can see him pay closer attention to you, too. He does it for a few days after, until it gets annoying and you beg him to stop baby-ing you. The wording might throw him off, but he backs off when you promise you're fine.

J for Jokes Do They Like To Joke Around With Or Prank You? How?

He may come off as an intense guy, but he is SO unserious. He has an unhinged energy about him that I'm 100% sure makes for the best jokes ever.

When he's off the clock, he's almost unrecognizable with how extremely his energy shifts. He's still broody, but very funny. Maybe it's just because you like him so much, you can never know.

K for Kisses How Do The Like To Kiss You?

Jack kisses like he’s been starved of it. He consumes. His hands everywhere, his mouth pressed to yours until your lips are bruised. His kisses are always an all-consuming experience.

He hasn't always been this way. He's had partners before, he's always been able to control himself in the moment. All of that carefully curated control somehow just dissipates when your lips are on his.

He doesn't usually lean in for a kiss in public. I don't see him being big on PDA. If he's desperate, he'd love a quick peck until he can actually have the real thing for as long as he needs. It’s just what he prefers.

L for Love Language How Do They Show They Love You?

Acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch! In that order.

Little, subtle touches throughout the day keep him afloat. Every touch, no matter how small, is a little gesture he pours his entire being into. He'd be lying if he said each brush against your arm or hand on your shoulder doesn't make him want more, but he couldn't live without any of it.

He's not great with his words. He can't write you poems or monologue about how much he loves you. So, he does the next best thing. He praises you. Constantly and consistently. "You look gorgeous," "You nailed that," and "You're doing so great," are regular phrases in his daily vocabulary for you. You've heard them so often, they're embedded in your psyche. That’s exactly his goal. He wants to say these things so often you really, truly believe them. Because he sure as hell does.

The place he truly finds himself in your relationship is when he's doing things for you. His time is valuable, and he loves spending it on making you happy. He makes your coffee in the morning. He cleans out your apartment when you're too busy to take care of it. He takes care of you when you're sick (obvi). Or gives you head.

He spends all day taking care of people, so the fact that he's more than willing to do it all over again when he gets home isn't just any small thing. Every action is meaningful and intentional. I mean, he's literally a universal giver (O-), need I say more? It's in his blood.

M for Memory Favorite Memory Together?

Hands down, the moment he realized he wanted to marry you. Ironically, it wasn't anything romantic. You were both out on a coffee date, when a kid started choking on a piece of candy. You flawlessly performed the Heimlich Maneuver, as he talked you through it.

The way you carried yourself, the way you didn't hesitate to help, the way you stayed calm through it all and listened to his every order, trusting him completely. It reminded him of all of the reasons he loves you. He couldn't have chosen anyone better to spend the rest of his life with.

A close second is probably the one time you took a warm bath together at a hotel in Aspen, overlooking the snowy mountains. Can you blame him? Moment like that only happens once, especially with your incredibly busy schedules.

N for Nightmare What Is Their Worst Fear?

You ending up in his ER.

In any context, but mainly you ending up in his ER and then needing to be wheeled out for surgery. He'd be completely helpless. Your life would be in someone else's hands. He hates the thought of it.

O for Oddity What Is One Quirk They Have?

SO MANY QUIRKS. This man is a vet. The things he's learned are very difficult to unlearn. Working in the ER really reinforces all of these habits, too.

He eats so quickly, you think he'd choke, if he wasn't so simultaneously careful. It's like he's expecting to be called away to care for a dying patient at any moment. Even if you're just sitting at the dinner table at home with a nice, home-cooked meal. He can't help but scarf it down so quick it's gone before you're even half way done with yours.

On that same note, he sleeps anywhere and everywhere. He's catching Zzzs no matter what. He can sleep with the TV on at full volume. Or in the car on the way somewhere. He can sleep with the curtains fully pulled back and the sun shining in his eyes. It's impressive, truly. It's a survival tactic, though. It isn't sustainable. You have to pull him away from it. Whenever you’re around, you close the curtains or turn off the TV. You hold him close and make sure he's comfortable. Sometimes he thinks you've ruined him, because he's begun to find it a lot more difficult to sleep right away after a shift, without you there.

P for Pet Names What Do They Like To Call You?

Jack's never been a pet name kind of man. It's weird, because it just seems like they slip out of his mouth, before he can help it, whenever he's around you. He calls you honey, because you're so sweet it makes his teeth ache. He calls you gorgeous, because you are and it makes his head spin.

Q for Quality Time How Do They Like To Spend Time With You?

In the most mediocre ways possible. Privately.

Doing laundry at home, cooking up a recipe you found online, cuddling in bed. He likes the domesticity of it all. Plus, he doesn't get a lot of time with you. So when he does, he wants you all to himself.

R for Rhythm What Song Reminds You Of Them?

No comment.

It isn't even necessarily a good song. You probably just came across it one day on TikTok and sent it to him to get his reaction. He probably gives you shit for it constantly. But he’s well aware of how hot you find the age gap, don't need a song to prove it.

S for Secrets How Open Are They With You?

Very open! No filter. It took time for him to get there, but he sees you as his second half, truly. There's virtually nothing he'd keep from you.

He doesn't like to talk a lot about his job in great detail, though. He doesn't want to upset you. It wouldn't be a secret, but he wouldn't bring any of it up unprovoked.

T for Time How Long Does It Take You To Get Together?

A long time. He had some issues to overcome before he could fully embrace a relationship with you. He still made it very clear he was into you, he just wasn't sure he'd be able to commit, so he didn't want to lead you on.

Jack might've also felt like a creep, being with someone so much younger. He has friends with kids as old as you. He weirded himself out thinking about things like that, but every time he looked at you he was met with the reality that you are, without a doubt, a grown woman. Gorgeous. And grown. Eventually, he got over it. After a lot of encouragement from you.

U for Upset How Do They Act When You’re Upset With Them?

He GROVELS. He loves you. You know this, without a shadow of a doubt.

He's just afraid you might stay upset with him long enough to forget it. He can't lose you. So, he lets go of any pride and dignity he has left and grovels better than anyone has ever groveled. It always works.

V for Vaunt What Are They Proud Of? Do They Like To Show You Off?

YES! He constantly tells you how proud he is of you. You think you could just wake up and roll over onto your side, and he'd give you endless praises for your technique.

He definitely loves showing you off. He's confident in the fact that you both belong exclusively to each other, so he doesn't mind letting people see it too. He's just private with his gestures. It's a vulnerability thing. PDA just doesn't feel good to him.

W for Warrior How Do They Feel About You Fighting? Would They Fight For You? Beside You? Etc.

If it comes down to it, and you're assaulted on the job or something, he's ready to fight. He logically doesn't want to be violent towards anyone, but it'd just be instinctual in the moment. He's more focused on caring for you and making sure you're alright afterwards.

X for X-Ray How Well Are They Able To Read You?

Very well. He's taken the time to learn your habits, your cues, and your body. There's just this unspoken language that flows between you. Both of you can communicate so much with just your eyes, or your subtle touches.

He can point out even the smallest changes in your demeanor, and predict your mood changes very successfully. That isn't the most impressive part, though. The fact that he can take you from crying hysterically to smiling in under ten minutes is.

Y for Yes How Would They Propose To You?

Very casually. Probably in a spur-of-the-moment type of way.

He'd probably blurt the question out during dinner one day. Or while you're in bed, sharing a cigarette.

He uses the moment to gauge your reaction and then plans something sentimental and big for later. He thinks it should feel a little more official. You find it endearing that he asked before he even bought a ring.

Z for Zen What Makes Them Feel Calm?

Your voice. He's so glad you're always a phone call away. You've gotten him through a great deal of panic attacks over the phone. He's fallen asleep listening to you talk about your day on the couch one too many times.

You always know what to say. Your voice always has this calm and collected cadence to it, which leaves him amazed. It's a direct contrast to his time in the ER. He needs it more than he could ever tell you.

author's note: i apologize for the medical jokes. please forgive me.

[luvyeni]

THEY PUNISH YOU 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !

genre yandere 𖹭 warning — parings enhypen x fem reader | back to library .

request. hear me out.. enhypen!yandere punishments could you make them lowkey crazy.

「 authors note 𖹭 」 this is probably the darkest thing i've written , if this isn't something that makes you uncomfortable please don't read.

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

heeseung will punish you by fucking with you mentally , you try to leave? go ahead, he'll let you leave , but not without consequences. see on the outside to everyone else heeseung is very influential , he gets around, and I mean to everyone , your friends , family hell even your teachers or employers , he completely isolates you from everyone , so with no friends, family or work , no where to go— you come back to him basically on your knees begging for him to take you back , which he does with a smirk on his face.

"everyone hates you now , so you come back to me, that's okay baby I'm all you have , remember that next time you leave."

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

jay doesn't have time for your bullshit; he'll tie you up and leave you in your room and go about his day , you're there to make him look perfect and if you aren't perfect, then he really doesn't have any use for you. he won't be bothered with you at all , he'd make sure the maid fed you and gave you water , but that's it , he wanted nothing to do with you until he felt like it was necessary , when he needed you to look perfect. he'd come back with a pretty dress in his arms , throwing it on the bed , telling you to get dressed.

"you're to clean up this act for tonight , if you don't embarrass me then I'll consider letting you out of your room."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake would never hit you; no he would never hurt you , he'd hurt himself and force you to listen because he knew that would mess you up more than anything he could ever do to you. "jake open the door!" you slammed on the bathroom door , you tried to leave and jake caught you , grabbing a knife from the kitchen , running into the bathroom before you could even do anything. "get away , this is your fault." he screamed back. "you have to learn once you go i go , you hate me anyway just leave let me do it." you begged the boy to get out. "please come out , please." you tugged at your head. "please im sorry i won't leave." as soon as he heard that he opened the door , blood dripping down his arms. "jake." you held his arms in tears. "you won't leave right?"

"if you leave i'll do it again and it will all be your fault."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon scares you, so normally all he has to do is give you a look and you're apologizing to him , begging him to forgive you. but let's say it's in the early stages , before he broke you in , you try and leave and the look on his face send shivers down your spine , before you could apologize , his hand was already going across your face , dragging you by your hair to your room , your screaming doesn't phase him as he tosses you around on the bed locking you up.

"you'll fucking learn , unless you want to end up like this again."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

sunoo isn't another one who wouldn't hit you . the thing about sunoo is he is able to easily manipulate you, your brain is already screwed up into thinking what he's doing to you is okay , like you're his girlfriend and he loves you— so that's what he uses as punishment , he gets you by withholding it from you; his love. he ignores you, pretends like you're not even there , it hurts him but it drives you mad , until you're sobbing for him. "pl-please sunoo." you sobbed as he walked past him , completely ignoring you. "whatever i did i'm sorry please forgive me." he smiles , leaning down to where you were on your knees. "does that hurt baby?" he asked.

"good now you know how it feels when you hurt me."

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

whatever you did; he'll let it go, he'd pretend like it never happened, until he doesn't. the thing about jungwon is he loves psychological torture much like heeseung, so he'll continue on like normal , like hasn't already planned for this , boarding up the windows , soundproofing the walls so no noise came in and no noise came out , and when he feels like the time is right , he'll snatch you from whatever you're doing and throw you into the dark soundless room with nothing but padding for a bed. you'll beg and plead with him to explain what did — but he just doesn't , he'll leave you like that until he sees fit. the only time you see him or the light is when he slides food through the little door he made, and when you beg him he just laughs and mutters one thing before shutting it.

"you don't remember baby , that's too bad I was gonna let you out had you acknowledged what you did."

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

ni-ki is all of them combined; but unlike sunghoon or jay , ni-ki enjoys inflicting pain on you; twisting your arm , making you scream in pain , that makes him smile a bit , so he's looking for anything you do that he hates so that he can punish you. you talk back? that's a tug on your hair. you don't reciprocate his love? that's a twist of your wrist. god forbid you try to leave , the last time that happened you were left with a broken arm and a smiling ni-ki every time you whimpered in pain , he'd just laugh at you telling you to do something else , maybe lift something, he'll know you'll drop it , it gives him another reason to hit you.

"you just don't listen do you? come here."

[moontabi]

Hey gorg!! could you do us domming seunghyun when hes usually the dominant one? and he gets all whiny and complaining about it but then we put him in his place and hes begging for more😙😙 (female reader pls) Also if not thats totally okay!

SAY PLEASE

choi seunghyun x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content ahead including slight foot stuff (kissing & stepping), pet names, dirty talk, degradation, praise, cunnalingus, face sitting/riding, handjob, oral (not enough to call a full on blowjob), edging, spit, thigh fucking, outercourse, unprotected p in v, cumming inside. dom! reader, sub leaning! tabi. this is pure filth, they fuck on the floor

a/n: not proof read bcs im going to nap after i upload this sorry for any mistakes!!

You’d been to your fair share of gallery showings since getting with your man Seunghyun.

This one was hosted by a close friend of his—an understated, intimate space tucked into a side street somewhere outside of Seoul. You came with him, dressed to kill, sipping wine and politely pretending to look at the art.

But the paintings were never what held your attention.

Now, the gallery is winding down.

Empty wine glasses clink faintly against trays. The last of the critics are still murmuring over pieces on display, offering half hearted nods as they move from canvas to canvas. And Seunghyun—your Seunghyun—is still standing with that lazy, almost elegant slouch, sipping the final swirl of his white wine, eyes low lidded in that way that always makes the heat between your legs ache.

His shirt collar is open just enough to reveal the tiniest glimpse of his tan skin, the curve of his chest and the faint sheen of sweat at his nape. You watch the tip of his tongue flick out to taste the wine still on his lips.

He’s always like this in public—cool, sharp-jawed and golden, radiating that quiet, masculine energy that draws people in without effort. Seunghyun doesn’t try to be magnetic. He is magnetic. charming, unbothered, in control.

But only you know how flushed the tips of his ears are. How tight his slacks have gotten from the way you crossed your legs earlier. How badly he wants to have you.

And he thinks he’ll be the one in control when he finally gets you alone.

Thinks he’s going to take you back to the hotel, unzip your dress with his teeth, and make you moan until you’re clawing at his back.

Oh, he has no idea.

He catches your eye and smiles.

You smile back—but yours is different.

There’s a heat behind it. A hunger he’s not used to being on the receiving end of. And when he walks over to you, wine-warm and looking like he’s two seconds away from pinning you against the nearest wall, you don’t step back. You step forward.

“Let’s go,” you murmur, reaching for his wrist with manicured fingers and letting your nails scrape softly over his skin.

His brows lift slightly, but he follows.

The way back to the hotel is quiet, thick with anticipation. He touches your thigh and tries to kiss your cheek. He’s so used to leading. He keeps close to your side, fingers brushing yours every so often. He can’t help it. You glance at him, and he smirks—that confident, subtle tilt of his lips he always wears when he thinks he knows exactly how things will end.

Except this time, you don’t lean into him. Don’t touch back.

You just smile to yourself and that makes him nervous.

You feel it in the way his hand hovers too long before slipping into his pocket. See it in the way he keeps glancing over at you with shiny, hopeful eyes—tense and uncertain, maybe even wondering if he’s done something wrong.

He’s never had to chase you like this and that’s exactly the point.

You step into the penthouse suite, your dress clinging to your hips, heels clicking sharply against the marble. You don’t get more than three steps before Seunghyun pounces on you—hands gripping your waist, hips rolling into yours roughly. You can feel how hard he is against you. His fingers slide beneath the hem of your dress, starting to hike it up until—

“No.”

One word. Calm. Soft-spoken.

His hands pause.

You push against his chest to create distance between you and walk away, brushing your dress smooth.

Seunghyun blinks, confusion flickering across his face.

“Take off my shoes first,” you say sharply. Not a request.

He lets out a low laugh, slow and cocky.

“You serious?”

You turn your back on him and walk to the grand piano in the center of the suite, heels echoing with every step. You sit on the edge like a queen on her throne and cross your legs. The slit in your dress parts wide, revealing the long stretch of thigh he hasn’t earned the right to touch.

You tilt your head.

“I said, take them off for me.”

Seunghyun doesn’t move at first.

You can see the resistance in the set of his jaw, in the way his shoulders stiffen beneath his shirt. His instinct is to laugh this off, grab you by the ass, and drag you underneath him. That’s his default—control. Dominance. Knowing he can make you fall apart with just a look.

But now, that look is meeting something unfamiliar.

A woman who isn’t planning to melt.

Daring him.

He lingers there for a long second too long, still trying to figure out if you’re serious.

And then—slowly, the idea seeming to physically pain him—he sinks down onto his knees.

Not gracefully. Not like a man used to kneeling. He moves like it’s foreign, he’s never had to lower himself for anyone. But something about the way you’re watching him makes him obey anyway.

His hands find your ankle, large and smooth and a little too eager. You feel the slight tremble in his fingers as he reaches for the bottom of your heel.

You don’t speak. Just watch him. studying his expressions with a click of your tongue.

He’s an eager animal in this moment—caught between submitting and sinking his teeth in.

He slides the first heel off, cradling your foot in his palm. His thumb brushes over the arch as he sets the shoe aside, a soft grin tugging at his lips.

“Comfortable now?” His voice is a low murmur, deliberately intimate. He doesn’t let go, fingers shifting to massage slowly.

“Mm,” you hum softly, watching his dark hair flop over his forehead as he works his fingers deeper into your skin. His touch is light at first, coaxing, but you can feel the tension in his hands, like he's holding back something more.

Then, without warning, he presses a kiss to the top of your foot.

You arch a brow.

“That part of the request?”

Seunghyun hesitates. Then shrugs, trying to smirk through it. “Thought I’d add a little something.”

“Oh, baby,” you coo, dragging your other foot up to poke your stiletto into his shoulder. “You don’t get to add anything. Not tonight.”

You can see him fighting the urge to bite back. The tension winding through his neck, his jaw. He wants to argue. He wants to challenge you.

Seunghyun bends his head again—and kisses your ankle anyway. Then the curve of your calf. He believes he can still resist surrender—a silent “I can do what I want,” wrapped in silk.

You feel the sharp edge hidden beneath the softness and a shiver ripples across your skin. You could call him out—but you don’t. You let it pass this time, because you know exactly what this is.

He’s trying to hold on.

And you’re about to make him let go.

He slides off the second heel now, slower this time. You spread your legs wider as he does it, letting your dress slip higher to reveal bare skin and the stretch of thin lace between your legs.

Seunghyun sees. His eyes flash—dark, hungry, shocked.

“Lay down.”

Was he hearing you correctly? His voice comes out rough, the edge of defiance already fading.

“What?”

You don’t repeat yourself, gliding your foot down the center of his chest. His breath hitches as the pressure shifts lower, trailing over buttons and fabric, until you’re pressing directly against the bulge straining his pants.

“Down.”

A shudder rolls through him. His hips twitch beneath your foot. His pride is still there, clinging to the edge—but it’s brittle now. He breathes in through his nose, deep and shaky as the scent of you hits him hard.

That’s what tips him.

He lowers himself to the floor. Not fluidly but with a need too heavy to hide.

You hover over his face, dress hitched high, your soaked panties tugged down your legs.

“Hands at your sides. You don’t get to touch.”

He licks his lips, voice rough and challenging.

“You think I’m just gonna lie here and take it?”

You smile down at him—sweet, pitying.

“Sure you are, I can see how bad you want it.”

He lets out a low laugh, sharp and shaky, but it dies in his throat the second your thighs frame his face and your sopping cunt sinks down onto his mouth.

His groan is immediate, muffled. His hands flex at his sides—fighting instinct. His tongue licks up the full length of your slit, too greedy, too frantic.

“God,” you sigh, rocking your hips slowly against his face. “Needed this.”

He moans under you, hips twitching up into nothing. His cock is hard, straining against the front of his slacks, leaking already. You glance down at the sight and giggle softly.

“Already this worked up?”

You grind down a little harder, letting your clit slide against the bridge of Seunghyun’s nose. He groans, louder this time, tongue flicking faster—more hungry.

“Slow down,” you chide, threading your fingers through his hair. “You’re making a mess.”

He whines under you. You lift off his mouth just barely—just enough to let him speak and he gasps like he’s surfacing from underwater.

“Say something smart again,” you say, breathless. “C’mon. Thought you had something to prove.”

“I do,” he pants, voice raw. “Just—fuck—can’t think straight with your pussy on m’face.”

“Aw, sweetheart you think that’s bad? we’re just getting started.”

Then you lower yourself back down and smother him again.

His mouth opens instantly. Tongue back to work. “Good boy,” you breathe, “That mouth of yours is so much better when it’s not talking back.”

You ride his face slowly, teasingly, his nose continuously rubbing right against your clit, your slick dripping down his jaw.

He’s good at this. Always has been. But now there’s no control. No rhythm. No teasing.

He’s not leading anymore.

He’s trying to keep up.

He whines beneath you, the mocking praise short-circuiting something in him.

“Still think you’re in control?” you ask sweetly, rolling your hips a little harder now.

He tries to shake his head, but you don’t let up.

“I asked you a question,” you say, voice soft but firmly.

“N-no,” he gasps when you lift again for air. “Fuck—fuck, no. You win okay.”

You hum thoughtfully, then grind down hard enough to steal the air from his lungs.

“Mmm. That’s better.”

Seunghyun’s hands scramble on the floor, trying not to reach for you. “You want to touch so badly, don’t you?”

He nods, eyes glassy, lips wet with your slick.

You tilt your hips forward and smother him fully.

His moan is strangled now—deep and helpless. His tongue is fast, lapping and sucking and groaning into your pussy lips melodically.

You stay there. Grinding hard until your thighs shake and your orgasm crests and he’s gasping for air between licks.

And even when it hits, when your moans get high and tight and your hands dig into his chest for balance, you don’t let him up.

You ride through it. Overstimulate him with nothing but your cunt on his tongue and the power he’s always thought belonged to him, now crumbling beneath your thighs.

He drinks greedily from your pussy lips, savoring every drop of your release that spills out onto his face and onto his tongue.

When you finally pull back, his face is soaked and his eyes are dazed.

“Baby—” he croaks.

You place a finger on his lips.

“Not yet,” you whisper. “I’m not done with you.”

His breath is hot against your finger, lips parting like he might protest—but the look in your eyes keeps him obedient.

You trail that finger down Seunghyun’s chin, across his flushed throat, then lower, slowly unbuttoning his shirt one by one. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, still panting, lips wet with your slick.

“I bet you thought you were going to wreck me tonight,” you hum, slipping the shirt open and running your palms over his chest. “Thought I’d be begging for it.”

He shudders as your nails drag lightly over his nipples. he’s the one trembling now.

You reach for his belt, unbuckle it with unhurried precision. His hips twitch. His cock is straining, visibly rock hard, outlined thick and dripping pre-cum. You palm him once over the fabric of his boxers and he jerks beneath you, letting out the most delicious, strangled moan.

“Fuck,” he gasps and you smile.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t answer.

You wrap your fingers around his waistband and tug his boxers down. His cock springs free—stiff, flushed, soaked at the tip, twitching against his stomach.

“Baby…” you whisper, leaning in close. “You’re so hard. You’ve been like this since the gallery, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut like it embarrasses him to admit it.

You kiss the base of his cock, then drag your tongue slowly up the side, pausing just before you reach the head.

“You were such a good boy with your mouth, think you deserve a little reward.”

His hips buck and he hisses the second you take him into your mouth.

Not all the way—just the tip, lips barely wrapped around it, tongue teasing the slit. It hurts.

You suck once. Gentle. Cruel.

Then you pull back.

He looks devastated.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispers.

“Oh, no,” you purr, tracing your fingertips down the underside of his cock. “We’re not there yet.”

You wrap your hand around him firm, steady and start to stroke.

Not fast. Not enough. Just enough to make him suffer.

He tries to thrust into your hand and you tighten your grip. His whole body tenses, catching onto your game.

You bend down again, tongue flicking the head, then dragging wetly around the tip in slow, messy circles. Your other hand trails down to Seunghyun’s thighs, pressing his legs open wider.

He’s panting now. Moaning every few seconds, he’s trying not to fall apart but he’s failing desperately. His legs are shaking, hips continuously twitching up for anything more than what you’re giving him.

“Fuck, princess—I—shit—don’t stop!”

You slow down.

He chokes on a gasp and you smirk against his cock.

“I thought you were in charge, Seunghyun,” you whisper. “What happened to all that confidence?”

He looks up at you, wrecked and his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

“You,” he gasps, “You happened. You’re driving me fuckin’ mad—”

You stroke him faster for three seconds—and then stop completely.

Seunghyun cries out, hands flying to his face. he needs something to hold onto or he swears his dick will fall off.

You lean over him again, whispering into his ear.

“I want to see you beg.”

He shakes his head, barely.

You sit back, lick your palm, and wrap it around his cock again. You start stroking him—slow at first, then fast, mean, tight.

He whimpers. Moans. His hips are bucking out of control now. His cock is leaking, twitching with every pass of your hand.

“Say it,” you murmur. “Say please, or I’ll stop.”

He shakes his head again—but it’s weaker this time.

You suck on the tip once, pop off with a soft ‘pop’ and then drop your hand entirely again.

“Say it.”

“I cant—”

“Say it.”

He looks at you, broken.

And then, in a voice that sounds nothing like the Seunghyun who first walked into that art gallery with you, he obeys.

“…Please.”

You hum, satisfied.

But you still don’t give him what he wants.

Instead, you wrap your hand back around his cock and stroke him again—but ridiculously quick this time. Not a rhythm meant to bring him complete pleasure—just a tease. A taunt. A reminder that his release belongs to you now.

“Jagiya!—” he whines, trying to thrust up into your hand. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”

His whole body arches off the floor. A sound escapes his throat—somewhere between a sob and a growl—and his fists pound once against the floor.

“You don’t get to come until I say so, be good and hold on for me.” you spit onto the head of his cock and press your thumb into it. He moans, body buzzing from the constant orgasm denial.

You shift upward now, straddling him suddenly with your inner thighs clamping firmly around his now trapped erection. His hands instinctively grip your hips, sucking in a sharp breath as he does so.

His dick presses between the slick mess of your folds and he twitches, hips stilling as he fights not to thrust mindlessly between your legs. His self-control is admirable yet shallow, like one movement could snap it completely.

You whimper, your chest brushing his.

“You want to fuck me now?” you ask, your voice a whisper at his ear.

He groans, nodding against your shoulder. “So bad, please…”

“Then use my thighs first.”

You flex your thighs tighter around him and rock your hips once, grinding your slick pussy against the length of his cock.

Seunghyun fucks up into the space you’ve given him—slow at first. You sit back, letting him work. His cock drags through your folds perfectly, head catching on your clit with every motion. It makes you gasp,

“There we go…” you praise, “K-keep going.”

His fingers dig into your waist as you rock back against him. A strangled groan rips from his throat, his cock jerking violently between the fat of your thighs.

Pre-cum leaks out onto your skin as he starts to desperately hump upwards into your grinding motions.

He’s panting now, jaw tight, every motion wet and obscene between your thighs.

“Feels so good,” he chokes. “Love these thighs and this perfect fuckin’ pussy—”

His whimpers become louder and more desperate as he feels your fingers wrapping around his hot, pulsing cock. He watches with tear filled eyes as you pull him towards your dripping entrance, his tip pressing against your hole.

His eyes go wide when he feels it—realizes.

And then you sink down onto him.

A quick, unrelenting push.

He cries out, head thrown back, thighs shaking as you take every inch of him inside you.

“Baby!” Seunghyun’s voice is rough, broken, already unraveling.

He looks up at you with a pleading expression, his cock pulsing inside you “Move... please move,” he begs through heavy breaths.

You start to move—deep, rolling thrusts, grinding down in perfect rhythm, your cunt clenching hard around him every time you sit all the way down.

You reach between your legs, press two fingers to your clit, and let out a pornographic gasp.

He’s barely saying words anymore—just moans, gasps, begging sounds caught in his throat. His eyes roll back when you tighten around him on purpose.

“Please…p-please baby—”

“Do it,” you moan. “Come inside me.”

Seunghyun’s hips jerk up into you the moment you give him permission—sloppy, desperate, completely uncontrolled. Maybe once, maybe twice more before he’s spilling deep inside you, groaning out broken ‘I love yous’ as it fills you.

You ride through it, chasing your own high, until your second high crashes down on you—tight, sudden, thighs trembling as you moan and fall forward onto Seunghyun’s sweaty chest.

Both of you catch your breath, skin flushed and sticky. His hands rest lightly on your hips now—gentle, tentative.

“…I really liked that,” he confesses, his voice deep and hoarse.

You glance down at him, teasing.

“Yeah?”

He nods, cheeks flushed, not quite meeting your eyes. “Like… a lot. You—” He swallows.

“You made me feel so fucking good baby.”

You blush, stroking his damp hair. “You were perfect.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I kinda wanna do it again.”

“Right now?”

He flushes deeper. “Not right now. Just—soon…really soon.”

“Don’t worry, next time, I’ll make you beg even prettier.”

Seunghyun’s eyes go wide again, clearly not expecting how much that would affect him. He swallows hard, “I’ll hold you to that.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ tags: @mashtatosworld @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @xxtoptaexx @tabibabib @s4intkwon @heartubeatusalon @breakmeoff @gdinthehouseee @septywitch @aizshallnotbefound @namsgyu @thanosspills contact me if you want to be added to or removed from my permanent taglist

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀

NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for  around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!! 

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.

You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt. 

With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).

So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of. 

It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.

There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.

You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.

The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so. 

One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life. 

Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.” 

You mirror their gesture as well. 

As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is. 

An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case. 

Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor. 

You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time. 

As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.

“Hey,”

You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.

“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.

Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?” 

Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.

“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle. 

“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.

You reciprocate the hug he gives.

“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.

Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.

“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together. 

You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor. 

Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you. 

“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.” 

“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.

Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.” 

“No worries. Anytime.”

When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.

He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.

“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?” 

You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.

Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.” 

Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.

Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.

“When are you off?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”

Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?” 

“Yeah. Later.” 

The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.

“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.

“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.” 

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.” 

Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.” 

You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.

Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago. 

Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.

No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.

You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.

See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case. 

But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.

He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him. 

You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.

Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.

“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously. 

“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate. 

“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu. 

“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.

Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill. 

Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.” 

“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.

“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.” 

“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”

It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.

You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.

You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.

When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions. 

“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers 

Shoot.

You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.

Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there. 

But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake. 

How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!

Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.   

But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already. 

You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu

You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,

“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?” 

“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.

The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.” 

“Wha—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting. 

Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary. 

“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”

It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.

When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text. 

“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you. 

You don’t really know how that makes you feel. 

“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door. 

“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again. 

“I— huh?”

“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.

You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.

“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything. 

Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”  

But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.

You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app. 

A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.

You don’t really know why you’re here. 

It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay. 

So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside. 

Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.

It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird. 

Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.

Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that. 

You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual. 

You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open. 

“Hi.” You smile. 

“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.

“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?” 

You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”

Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”

“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.” 

He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.” 

“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?” 

Jungkook looks at you apologetically.

“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.” 

“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”

He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.” 

“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.” 

Jungkook grins.

“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies. 

“Okay, Anton Ego.”  

You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.

You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon. 

You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him. 

Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.

As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.

It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago. 

You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous. 

It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering. 

You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.

It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little. 

Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.

“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.

A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you. 

Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.” 

You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.

As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.

There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly. 

“__,” Sol calls beside you. 

“Huh?”

“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.

“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.

Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.” 

You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer. 

“Okay. Just text me.” 

You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office. 

Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.

12:10pm. 

Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.

You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.

But then again, he seems to be busy.

With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text. 

You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch? 

Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend. 

You receive a reply a few seconds after. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __  I’d love to

Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins

Oh. Okay. That tracks. 

You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊

You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria. 

When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure. 

You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.

Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.

You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.

For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.

You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.

They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.

“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”

“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”

The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.

“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.

“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”

You nod along to his words.

Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.

“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.

“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.

You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.

It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.

“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.

You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”

“What?”

“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.

“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”

Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.

“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”

“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”

“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.

“Did you document everything?”

Your response comes in a little curt.

“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”

Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.

“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”

When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.

Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”

Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.

He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”

“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.

He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.

“You and your jokes…”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”

You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.

“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”

Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.

Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—

“You can stay at mine for the night.”

You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.

You stare at him right back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He raised his brow.

“I can’t think of reasons right now.”

“You don’t need to think at all.”

You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.

Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.

“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”

Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”

“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.

Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.

There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.

“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.

“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”

You visibly wince at the mention of work.

He’s right and you kind of hate it.

“You’re right…” you say after a while.

“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.

You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”

“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”

You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”

Jungkook visibly stills.

“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”

You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.

“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”

He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.

You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.

Jungkook looks at you.

“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.

You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.

When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.

I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.

It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.

“__?”

You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Do you have clothes in there?”

At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.

With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”

You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”

It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.

When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”

He stops. And then you stop.

You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.

Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.

“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.

You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.

“T-thanks.”

Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.

You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.

Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.

But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.

When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.

It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.

But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.

You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.

When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.

“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.

“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.

You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.

The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.

Why was he naked?!

Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.

The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.

Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.

Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.

You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.

When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.

You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.

“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”

You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

You shake your head vigorously.

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.

“It’s your place.” You reason.

“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.

“But—”

Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.

He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.

You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…

“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”

You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.

When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”

You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?

But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.

“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.

“The temp’s fine.”

He hums and puts down the remote.

“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.

“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”

“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.

When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.

It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.

You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.

You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.

After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.

It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.

When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.

You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.

You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.

Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.

“Hey,”

“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.

When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.

Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.

“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.

From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.

Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.

“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”

He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.

You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.

When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.

“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.

“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”

“It’s okay, just sit there.”

You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.

Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.

“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.

“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.

You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.

“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.

“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”

“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”

“Okay… how about your stuff?”

As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.

You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”

Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

You look right back at him weird.

“You’re not serious.”

“When am I not serious?”

You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.

“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.

“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.

He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.

But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.

So you decide to joke a little.

“Probably not.” You tease.

Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.

“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”

“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”

“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.

It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.

“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”

You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”

“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.

You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.

“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.

“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.

Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”

“I don’t cook.” You point out.

“I already know that.”

You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”

Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”

“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”

“I can cook.” He chuckles.

“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”

He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

You sigh, out of reasons now.

“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”

Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”

“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.

That prompts you to put a frown on your face.

“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”

It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”

It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.

You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate. 

You give him a small salute.

Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast." 

You laugh at his squinted eyes. 

"I was going to say yes, anyway."

"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back. 

You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.

All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.

Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.

You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.

After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.

You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.

But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.

It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.

He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.

One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.

On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.

Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.

After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.

As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.

That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.

Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.

You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.

You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.

Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.

“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.

Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”

You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.

“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”

At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.

“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.

“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”

Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.

He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.

You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.

The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.

At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.

You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.

In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.

Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.

Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.

When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.

Jungkook.

The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.

It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.

When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.

But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)

     — Jungkook.

That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.

He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.

And you did not forget to say that either.

“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.

Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”

Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.

“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.

You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.

Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.

So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.

Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”

You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.

You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.

Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.

Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.

Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.

It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.

“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.

“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.

You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.

You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.

“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.

You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”

“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”

You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.

“What?”

“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.

“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”

Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.

“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”

You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.

When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.

After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.

You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.

“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.

“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.

After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”

“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.

“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.

“The X-Files. You know the show?”

“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.

You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”

“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”

“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.

You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.

“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.

Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.

“Hm?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”

Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”

“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”

“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”

“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”

“I know,” you chuckled.

You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.

Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.

“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.

He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.

You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.

When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.

You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.

There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.

You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.

And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.

You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.

But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

Again.

His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.

It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.

You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.

As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.

He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.

You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.

Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.

Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—

But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.

You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.

Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.

It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.

But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.

There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.

You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.

When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.

It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.

So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hmm…”

At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.

Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.

When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.

He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.

You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.

When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.

“Oh my god!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.

You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!

Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.

He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.

“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.

You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”

You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.

“We slept together.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.

“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.

Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”

“Oh?” You parrot back.

“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”

You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.

It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.

When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?

“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.

You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.

“Six thirty.”

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.

You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.

“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”

“Oh.”

He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.

“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.

“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”

“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.

You failed to do that, obviously.

Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.

After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.

Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.

Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.

“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”

You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”

Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”

That prompts you to laugh.

“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”

He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”

You nod in understanding.

You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.

As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.

“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.

You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.

You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.

“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.

Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”

“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”

“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”

“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”

Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”

Jungkook grins. “A dream.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”

Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.

“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.

A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.

“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”

You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”

Jungkook looks at you briefly.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.

He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”

Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!

“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”

“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”

Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.

“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”

You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”

You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.

“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.

“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”

Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”

You scrunch your face. “Me too.”

And then a beat of silence.

Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.

“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.

You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.

Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.

“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.

“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.

You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”

When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.

“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”

Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”

“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.

Jungkook bursts out in laughter.

“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”

“Are you?” You pout.

Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.

“Alright…”

You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.

“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”

“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”

“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”

Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”

He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.

“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.

You nod your head. His playful smile drops.

“Are you serious?”

You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”

He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.

“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”

You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.

“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”

Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.

“Oh.”

You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.

You grin. “Interesting insight.”

“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.

When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.

Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.

“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”

You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”

You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”

Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.

“How do you know her?”

“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.

Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”

You can’t help but let out a scoff.

“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”

He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”

“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.

It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.

Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.

But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.

“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”

The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.

But of what?

You shake off the idea in your head.

“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.

“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.

You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.

“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.

Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”

You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.

“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”

Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”

“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.

You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”

Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.

“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”

When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.

Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”

“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”

“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.

“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.

“Like all of them?”

“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.

“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”

You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.

Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”

��What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”

You try to think about it.

“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”

Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”

You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”

It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.

But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.

But right now, his question feels real.

If he is flirting with you… do you like it?

You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.

Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.

“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.

You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”

He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.

“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.

“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.

“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.

You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.

You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.

“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.

“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.

Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.

It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.

Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?

“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.

That makes them part.

You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.

“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.

Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.

“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.

You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.

And you know Jungkook notices.

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.

His only response is a small, gentle hum.

A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.

You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.

It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.

You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.

When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.

“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.

You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.

It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.

“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”

“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.

“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”

You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I don’t mind.”

You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”

You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”

You giggle against his chest.

“Carry me before I pass out.”

Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”

“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.

“Fine.”

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