#someone pls ask me about my belt bag

[annoyinganarchopunk]

i love the stereotype of punk just being purely scary and insane. like ya theres definitely some odd balls here (love u guys) (most of u) but im literally making myself a belt bag from an old pair of jeans!!!!! im over here doing arts and crafts for the sake of the environment.

fuck capitalism i wanna sew a bag. that i can attach to my belt. with loops. a belt bag. for my little things. fuck you!!!!! ill go listen to my political loud music too!!!!!!!

[reidrum]

one of me is cute, but two though?

A/N: …no explanation for this i fear. probably ovulating again. stream short n sweet, happy kinktober !

cw: *cracks knuckles* smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spence, fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, marking?, cr**mp*e, edging, aftercare, pet names, mentions of hypothetical pregnancy, fem!reader, a very real research paper that i actually looked up and read, this is filth but at least it’s prn with plot!

wc: 3.2k

summary: spencer can’t wait to have kids with you, in fact he wants to start right now

i love feedback! and talking to people!!! especially about spencer!!! pls interact with me it would make my entire existence okay thank you also this isn’t proofread

Spencer having baby fever wasn’t new to anyone, as the godfather of two of his closest friends’ children and known to be a crowd favorite to the kids at parties, he always had a longing desire to have children of his own to love and raise.

He’ll admit that at the start of your relationship he didn’t know how far the two of you would go, what kind of future was out there for you both. But the more you integrated into his life, his routine, his values, the more he knew for certain he would spend the rest of his life with you.

That brings you to today, you and Spencer were having an errands day making stops at the grocery store and target. As you’ve finished shopping around you both stand in line to checkout, and you’re standing behind a mother holding her little baby staring at you with her big green eyes. Your face melts as you coo gently at the baby, making silly faces and enjoying her little giggles.

A completely normal moment for you, but absolutely world changing moment for Spencer. It’s like something turns primal in him watching you play with the baby. Suddenly he’s picturing you rocking cradles at night, taking your kids—his kids—out to the park, how you’d look with a round belly carrying his child.

He looks at you with an adoration fueled by need, as in he needs to get you home right now before he attacks you in the middle of target.

A gently nudge pulls him from his daydream, “Hey, you okay? Lost you for a second.”

He shakes his head and steps forward to place the items on the conveyor belt and goes up to pay, “Yeah, no I’m okay.” he says mindlessly swiping his card and grabbing the bags.

You furrow your brows and walk to the car, tabling his weird behavior for another time to discuss, “I’m too hungry to question whatever that was right now, can we get pho?”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head before getting into the driver’s seat, absentmindedly still thinking about what your little ones would look like.

After you get lunch it’s a short drive home, but Spencer can’t help but wonder how the hell he got to this point. He wanted children with you, and yet you weren’t even married, not even close to it. You had just moved in with him only a few months ago, but he’s still firm in knowing he wants to spend forever with you.

You open the door to the house, Spencer following behind imagining little footsteps pattering throughout the house, a mini you and mini him. He’s so into his daze he doesn’t see the dining table and bangs his hip against it.

He groans in pain as you rush into the room, “Are you okay? I heard a bang.”

“No, I’m fine I just hit my hip.” He winces in pain.

The suspicion from earlier rises again and you can’t help but bluntly ask, “What is going on with you? You’re being spacey and weird with me. If it’s something I did please tell—“

“Do you want kids?” he blurts out interrupting you.

Your eyes widen, “Wh—what?”

Spencer’s eyes widen too, why the hell did he just say that? “I—um…Okay, not as in right this second. But, is that…something you’d want in the future?”

You pause for a few seconds before speaking softly, “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay. Cool.” He tries to say as nonchalantly as someone who downed an espresso shot.

Then it all starts to click for you, the lingering touches, the looks at the store when you’d see little babies, on walks in the park he’d stare into the playground.

“Spencer…do you… want to have kids…with me?” You ask so softly he subconsciously moves closer to hear you better.

He tries to pull every psychology and behavior tactic he can to read the expression on your face, to decipher what you’re truly feeling, but he comes up empty and is left to grapple with the emotions of the moment on his own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? Oh baby, no I’m not mad. Just a little surprised, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You move to stand right in front of him at arm’s length, to let him know you’re right there, that you’re always there.

“How could I not? You are so beautiful, kind, and smart. I think I’d be the luckiest dad in the galaxy if my kids turned out like you.” He says softly, grabbing your hand to thumb at the palm in a soothing manner, more to calm his nerves than yours but it’s really working both ways. You couldn’t look any softer to him than right then.

He continues, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward, but I love you, and I want a future with you. House, kids, taxes, all of it.”

You fake gasp, “Even taxes?”

“Especially taxes,” He smiles as he plays into your dramatics, “Like I said, I don’t mean right now. I know there’s like thirty steps we have to take before then. But I’m here for all of it.”

“Spence…” You tearfully smile, “I love you, and I want all of it too.”

Spencer couldn’t be more happy as he slowly leans in to kiss you, lingering so you know just how happy he is. He pulls back and peppers kisses all over your face while you giggle, “Okay, okay!”

He presses one last big kiss on your forehead, cartoonish noise and all, and he wraps you up in his arms tightly.

“So…did something happen today that made you tell me?” You ponder. Of course you’d been thinking about a future with Spencer. but you didn’t know that he felt the same way, and so seriously at that.

He mumbles into your shoulder, “You were playing with that baby in the Target checkout line. And I’m not kidding, all day I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like carrying our child.”

You grin wickedly, “You really wanna knock me up that bad, huh?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea the restraint I had today to not pounce on you in the middle of the store. I would have risked the life ban in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” You glide your finger down his chest, “What did you wanna do?”

Spencer smirks, seeing the game you’re playing. “Well, I was thinking about this book I read on the best positions for maximum fertility.”

“So you read porn—“

“It’s not porn!” He chuckles, “It’s a real scientific study they did in Cambridge about if different positions induce fertility due to the variances in angle of the male ejaculation, and whether it would increase the rate of fertilization. It was actually really fascinating. They had the subjects do it inside the MRI machine.”

You can’t help but feel flustered, “I can't believe that turned me on.”

“I also know that you’re ovulating right now, so all your sexual senses are heightened.”

“I know I should find that funny, but it’s actually so fucking hot that you know that.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring his head closer to your ear as you whisper, “Wanna go try them out?”

Spencer’s eyes darken and he immediately reacts, “Jump.” holding your thighs up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle a little above his head, cupping it with both hands as you lean down to kiss him while he walks to your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed with a squeal before working his shirt off, watching you slowly peel your own shirt off and shimmy out of your pants leaving you bare in a bra and panties.

He lets out a groan, “I think you’re trying to kill me.” He climbs over your body and leans down to attack your neck, one hand holding one of yours above your head the other trailing its way down. A finger traces the outline of your panties, pressing down on the wet patch near your entrance.

You moan languishly and he smirks at your reaction, “I got you, okay baby? Gonna make you feel so good.”

His finger finally slides past the fabric and makes contact with your cunt, gathering the slick and spreading it all over you. Breathless moans escape you, and by the time you’re used to one finger the fucker adds another finger and rests his thumb on your clit drawing soft circles.

The feeling of his fingers sliding so easily in and out of you is terrifyingly intoxicating, and you can’t seem to get enough. He can feel you squeezing his fingers and by your increased moans he knows you’re close, “C’mon pretty girl, you can do it.”

The little praise he gives you is enough to send you over the edge, and you’d be embarrassed at how easily it affected you if you weren’t so overcome with coming down from your peak. You slowly regain your bearing through heavy breaths and look up at him above you with hooded eyes, “Jesus, Spence.”

A wide smirk plasters on his face as he stands up from the bed, “Just getting started baby.” He makes work of his belt buckle and slides it off while you crawl over to help him with pulling his zipper down. You tug his pants down enough to expose his bulge, and you lightly palm him through his boxer.

A deep groan rumbles through his throat, his hands coming up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail as watches you slowly pull him out of boxers. He’s achingly hard, tip red and throbbing. You coo at him, “Poor thing, must’ve been painful today keeping this in, when all you wanted to do was come inside me, hm?” a strangled noise leaves him as you continue, “I know you really wanna sink your dick in me, but can I have just a little taste?”

The doe eyes you give him as you speak your lewd words has him nearly teetering over the edge and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet. He nods vigorously, not trusting words to do him good and watches himself slowly disappear down into your throat, further and further back until he hits something hard and you gag a little. He mutters a sorry that sounds like a half cry half moan, but the way his hips are subconsciously thrusting into you and the hand that’s gripping your hair guiding you so, tells you he might not actually be that sorry.

“Fu—uu—uck.” his head tilts back as the overly enunciated curse flies out of his mouth. Your head bobs with a ferocity on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Spencer thinks this is what heaven must be like, that you an angel personified have brought the pearly gates down onto the Earth and blessed him with your mouth.

You continue to take him into your throat for a few more seconds before you feel a sharp tug on your hair that wasn’t meant to hurt but might’ve felt that way with how desperate Spencer needed you off of him.

“What happened?” you ask, voice raspy and confused.

He breathes heavily, “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.” you giggle and sit up on your knees and Spencer closes the distance by reaching for your head in both hands and pulling you in for a long kiss.

“Turn around.” he whispers low, gently pushing you onto your stomach the second your back is to him. The anticipation builds as you can hear him remove the remainder of his clothing, and he climbs over you to unclip your bra and gently pull your panties over and off your legs.

He tosses them to the side and returns to looming above you while you’re splayed out on your stomach in front of him. You get on your forearms and arch your back, letting your ass and cunt be on full display for him knowing this was a position he loved. He can’t help himself but lean forward and swipe his tongue through your folds, groaning at how sweet you taste.

When he pulls off of you, you’re fully expecting his next move would be to finally be inside you. What you don’t expect, is him backing up a little and pulling your legs back towards him so you’re back to lying fully flat on the bed. Before you even have a chance to question him he’s crawling back over you and lowering his head to whisper hotly in your ear, “Have you ever tried this one?”

The long and soft whine you let out goes straight to his cock as he lines himself up at your entrance and slowly pushes in. Pushing past the folds of your cunt that wraps so perfectly around him, he’s in awe watching it enter you. You, on the other hand, are on a different planet from the feeling the new position is giving you. He’s deeper than he’s ever been in you, reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, his hands pressing onto your back so hard you know there’s going to be imprints later.

The moans escaping from you are consumed by the sheets beneath you, his pace unrelenting as he holds you in place and ruts into you.

“Spence..” you whine softly.

The weight of his hands press your body further into the mattress as he leans down right next to ear and whispers hotly, “Yeah, baby?

The emotions builds in you fast and the need to kiss him becomes stronger, “Wanna see you…Need to see you.”

His hips stutter at the tone of your voice, so whiny and desperate, all for him. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, how he became the object of all your desires, how everyday you wake up and it’s him you choose repeatedly, and will continue to choose for the rest of time. You’ve always loved him, it was a fact you made sure that he knew every single day.

When he flips you over with a gentleness, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, hoping that the synergy flows between your contact and you can feel it in every nerve ending, just how in love he is with you. He think you got the message as he watches you move your hand between your bodies to grab at his cock and slowly guide back inside you while you both watch him push fully into you again.

He looks down between your bodies and watches his cock move in and out of you, mesmerized by the ring of slick that reappears with every pull out. It’s nearly automatic the way his thumb reaches for your clit and moves his eyes upward to watch you completely unravel at the hands of his touch.

Your brows are furrowed together in pleasure, “Fuck…’m close.” you mutter through a whine.

His hips snap to meet yours rapidly, “Yeah? Me too…” he taps your leg to lift it onto his shoulder, deepening his angle and circling you around the throes of your release. He grunts out, “Gonna let me put a baby in you?”

You clench down on him hard with a loud moan, neither of you expecting the effect his words had on you. Spencer chuckles and bends down to press love bites into the crook of your neck before trailing back up to your ear and whispers, “Didn’t think you’d be into me talking like that…you really want everyone to know who fucks you good every night? Want them to see you walk around with our baby in your belly?”

Your moans are uncontrollable at this point, it’s a miracle you can still hear him over the incoherent, borderline babbling sounds you’re making. He doesn’t relent as his hand slides up your neck to grip your jaw to hold your head in place, “Say it, I wanna hear you say it.”

A whimper falls out of you, “I—fuck—I want y—you…”

His hips slow down their pace, “Not good enough, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

The tiniest panic rises in you at the thought of him stopping, “No, don’t stop! Spencer, please. I want a baby, please want it all with you, please, please.” You realize in that moment you were never above begging to begin with, not when he’s between your legs offering you the world from the comfort of your sheets.

His pace quickens and groans at your pleas, leaning down closer so he’s chest to chest with you, “Oh, sweet girl,” he pants, “You’ll look so pretty carrying our kid, gonna drive me crazy watching you walk around.”

A string of moans trail out of your mouth, encompassed by the feeling of him inside you, the thoughts of your future together only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You weakly breath out, “Come inside me, please. Wanna make you a daddy.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear reach his peak and release into your cunt, rhythmic moans punctuating every thrust. Your grip on him tightens as you squeeze out every last drop of him. He feels himself become soft and gently pulls out, watching his come drip out of your hole. With a whimper he delicately picks up the excess with two fingers and enters you again, eliciting a languished whimper to match his.

“I know, I know, baby. Did so good for me, ‘m so proud of you.” he mumbles, watching the white coat his fingers as they move inside you. “Can you give me one more? Just one, I promise. Look so pretty like this, I can’t help it.”

You’re about to protest, feeling the sensitivity get the better of you when the pleasure hits again, another moan escaping you clearly telling him you can take it.

It’s a softer orgasm this time, a smaller peak but still lust filled and has you panting heavily as you come down from it. Spencer finally collapses on the bed next to you, his chest also heaving.

“You okay, baby?” he mumbles after a few minutes.

Words can’t fulfill you right now and all you can offer is a nod as you lazily lull your head over to him. He nods and reluctantly gets up from the bed despite your pout with a promise to be so quick, and returns with a wet cloth, a water bottle, and a fresh set of clothes for you. You let him gingerly clean you up before he helps dress you and slips right back into place beside you with a kiss to your temple.

“I love you…so much,” he whispers while pulling you into his embrace, “I really can’t wait to start a family with you.”

You hum contentedly, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw, “I love you too.”

A few moments pass before he speaks again, “But…you’re still—“

“Still on birth control, baby. Don’t worry.”

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[joemothersfavoritechild]

“across the street” pt. 3

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-3.2k-ish words

-no trauma au

an: sorry, i had a lot going on my life lol. not sure why this one took so long for me to finish, but here it is in all it’s corny glory. also, if it’s bad pls don’t tell me. idk how to do this lmao

summary: you bump into someone at the mall & go on a date with your hot neighbor

part two is here!

————————————————————————————

Clothes covered your bedroom floor and you continued adding to the pile. Your date was today. In a few hours, more specifically. Nothing seemed right, lunch is more casual than dinner but you don’t want to be too casual. A dress is probably too much, but leggings are not enough. You grumbled to yourself, Mike probably wasn’t worried about his outfit. He’d probably look good in anything, you decided.

You dropped another hanger on your bed, eyeing the growing pile. How could nothing be appropriate? You had a surplus of clothes, probably too many. How could one guy make you nervous to the point where you hated all of your clothes? Was that normal? Even your favorite dress was hideous to you right now.

Fuck this, you thought. If nothing feels right, you were just going to buy something that did. You were a responsible adult with a savings account, one outfit wouldn’t doom your finances. You reorganized your closet, swiftly taking your phone out to search for the nearest mall.

A mall was a good choice, you thought as you pulled into a parking spot. And being a Tuesday, it wouldn’t be packed full of teenagers. You stepped out of your car, locking it behind you, and walked towards the entrance.

As you walked through the doors, you noticed a map on the wall. Perfect, you can find something that’ll work. There are tons of stores, so you begin your shopping spree.

You spend a while browsing, more window shopping than anything. Clothes at the mall were kind of expensive, making you grimace at the price tags around you. Eventually, you found a small shop with decent prices. You settled on a nice shirt that you found, 22.99. Not too bad, and you could wear a pair of jeans that you had at home. As you checked out with the cashier in front of you, you glanced at the time on your phone. You glanced out of the shop, reading the sign that points to the food court.

You took the bag from the cashier, telling her to have a good day as you walked out of the store. You followed the sign, deciding to grab a treat on your way out. You deserved it.

The food court was massive and surprisingly empty. There was probably a total of ten people scattered around the building. Your eyes scanned the booths, trying to decide on which to stop at. Your eyes caught a familiar figure, doing a double take and stopping in place. Your heart pounded.

It was Mike, in his security uniform. He was surveying the room, hands on his hips. You inspected his face, noticing the serious expression on it. You knew he was a security guard, but seeing him in action was a completely different thing. It was hot.

As if he can sense your presence, you’re caught in his gaze. He’s smirking at you now. Your cheeks heat up, and you look away in embarrassment.

You look back up at him. He’s staring, looking you up and down. He makes eye contact with you again.

Fuck.

Before you can make a run for it, he’s walking towards you. His hands rest on his security belt as he struts towards you. You could make an exit, leave before he got close enough, and claim that you didn’t see him.

But he was fast, cutting through the middle of the food court, he stood in front of you in less than a minute.

“You miss me or something?” He asked. You internally rolled your eyes at his sudden confidence.

“You work here?” You ask, ignoring his question.

“I told you I worked at the mall.”

“I didn’t know it was this mall.”

“What other malls are there?” He asked sarcastically.

“You tell me.” You said, matching his banter.

He tried to hide a smile, but you could see it.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks.

“I was just picking up a shirt. I thought I’d grab a snack.” You answered, and he nodded.

“You like ice cream?”

You thought about it for a second, ice cream sounded good.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Follow me.” He said, leading you through the food court.

He stopped in front of a little shop, the two of you standing side by side. The place was cute, covered in rainbows and pictures of ice cream. He waved at the worker there.

“Your usual, right?” The girl asked.

“Two please.” He corrected.

You watched as she filled two cups with a swirl of chocolate and vanilla ice cream. She placed them on the counter in front of you, inputting something into the register.

“Let me get it.” You say, reaching for your wallet. His hand on your arm stops you.

“I’ve got it.” He says, taking his wallet out of his pocket. It’s small, a simple dark brown leather. Very Mike.

He pays for the ice cream and grabs the cups from the counter. You grab the spoons and some napkins.

“C’mon.” He says, guiding you to a table nearby.

He takes a seat, and you sit in front of him. He pushes your cup towards you and grabs a spoon from your hand. His fingers touch yours for a moment too long.

“Thank you.” You say, scooping some of your ice cream into your mouth. It’s refreshing. The flavors are classic, but not too overpowering and the texture was perfect. Mike knew his ice cream.

“Of course.” He says, copying your movement. He sucks on the spoon for a moment, still making eye contact with you.

You have to look away, your mind putting torturous thoughts in your head. Maybe you were ovulating, or that’s what you told yourself.

His voice brought your eyes back to him. You didn’t hear a word he said.

“What?” You asked, noticing him laughing at you again.

“I asked, do you like it?”

“Oh,” You looked down at your ice cream. “Oh, yeah. It’s good, you didn’t have to buy it though.”

He looked at you in a way that you couldn’t describe, narrowing his eyes. You hid a smile as you watched him.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He said smiling, shrugging and looking away from you.

You kept your eyes on him, pondering conversation topics.

“Long day?” You asked.

“Nah, it’s been okay. I had to kick out some college kids earlier though.”

“No way.” You said in a skeptical voice.

“It’s true, they kept connecting to the speakers and playing weird shit. Fart noises, the whole nine yards.”

“Oh my god.” You said, laughing as you went for another scoop of your treat.

“Living the dream.” He said, pulling another laugh from you.

“You’re funny.”

“I try.”

You smiled at him again despite yourself. God, he was charming. In a “this is just who I am” kind of way. Your hangout went on for at least another fifteen minutes, both of you eating and smiling.

Talking to Mike was easy, he listened to you. And not like a nodding along to appease, like an “I remember every little detail about what you said” kind of way. He asked questions and added things to the conversation. He laughed along to your jokes and widened his eyes when you deemed it appropriate.

Eventually, though, he was torn away from you by the sharp crackle of his walkie-talkie. He eased up from his seat slowly, as though he was being pulled through molasses.

“I’ll see you soon,” He said.

“You will.”

As you watched him walk away, he turned and looked at you again. You smiled and gave him a small wave. His eyes lit up, and he held in a small laugh as he nodded to you.

You sighed as he was out of view.

———————————————————————————

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, desperately looking at yourself. You had already changed, put a little makeup on, and you were attempting to make something of your hair. It seemed to have a mind of its own.

You decided to put it up, choosing a style that suited your face. As you leaned back to glance over yourself, you smiled. You looked nice.

You grabbed your phone, checking the time. You had about five minutes until Mike was supposed to be at your door. You smiled, thanking the universe for your timeliness.

You added a few spritzes of perfume to your ankles, thanking the internet for this piece of your routine. You froze as you heard a knock on the door, your breathing suddenly picked up.

You grabbed your phone, pocketing it as you walked into the living room. You fast walked to the door, looking through the peephole. Mike stood there, staring at his feet while holding a little bouquet. Your heart softened as you opened up the door.

He smiled at you.

“Hi.” You said, taking the flowers from his outstretched hands.

“Hi. Um, I hope these aren’t too much. A guy was selling them on the street, it just made me think of you.”

“No, not too much at all. Thank you, Mike. They’re pretty” You replied, looking at the small flowers.

He had gotten you a bunch of orange carnations, tied together with a green ribbon. Even if it was last minute, the gesture wasn’t lost on you.

“You’re pretty.” He muttered immediately.

When you looked back up at him he had a sheepish grin on his face, almost embarrassed at the words that slipped through his lips.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile, looking back at the flowers in your hands.

“Want to come in for a second? So I can put them in some water?” You asked, opening the door wider at the suggestion.

He nodded, following you inside. He tailed you as you went into the kitchen. You set the flowers on the island when you got close enough.

Vases were not something that you prioritized in your home, so you settled on an old mason jar that you found. As you filled the glass up, you could hear Mike fiddling with the flowers behind you. He met you at the sink, grabbing the jar from you and placing the flowers inside of it. He arranged them in a neater shape, noticing your gaze.

“It’s not a gift if you do all the work.” He stated, placing them behind the sink.

You paused, watching him. He was right, of course, but most people didn’t think that way. Most people gave you the flowers and called it a day, but that wasn’t Mike. Mike was caring, you noticed. Whether it was with you and flowers, or with his sister and the tender way he took care of her. He was a caring man, and you liked it. It was good for you.

“They look good.” You settled on, trying to push the fuzzy feeling to the back of your mind. You suddenly noticed his outfit. He was now in black pants and a grey button-down shirt.

“No uniform? You look nice.” You asked.

“Oh,” He replied, looking down as if he had just noticed. “I brought an extra pair of clothes to work.”

You smiled, god how was he so nice? He got you flowers and went out of his way to look good for you, and this was all after a few days of knowing you.

“You ready to go?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m starving.” You answered, following him back to the front of the house. You grabbed your bag and locked the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant was a comfortable silence, the only sound being the quiet radio. His car was on the older side, but it was nice nonetheless. It was clean and smelled nice. Bare minimum, but it was still impressive.

You made small talk on the way.

“How’s work so far? You have to kick any other crazy people out?”

“Eh, it’s fine. It’s funny you say that because there was a crazy lady there today.”

“Oh, yeah?” You asked, suddenly curious.

“Yeah, she was just standing there in the middle of the food court. Totally staring at me.” He continued, eyes wide open as he glanced at you.

“What’d you do?”

“I bought her ice cream.” He said, smiling at the road.

You narrowed your eyes at him, finally understanding.

“That’s just mean.” You said, feigning annoyance.

“No, you don’t understand. Two very separate occasions.” He said as he pulled into a parking spot.

He brought you to a cafe, you realized. It was a small place, but it was beautiful. The inside was very homey, decorated with couches and rugs. The lighting was yellow, really bringing the space together.

He brought you up to the counter, which had plants placed on the corners of the granite. You smiled at him while he ordered, noticing his haste. He’d memorized his order, it was cute.

You ordered your food and drink after him, glancing at the menu as you spoke.

“Oh, and one of those brownies,” Mike added as he took his wallet out of his pocket. Your eyes widened, very curious about this brownie. You had a soft spot for sweets.

The worker nodded and then rang them up. As you walked with Mike to a couch in the corner, you spoke up.

“Let me send you my half, please.” You said, talking about the money.

“No way.” He laughed, sitting next to you on the plush loveseat.

“It’s common knowledge that the person who asks the other out pays.”

“Must not be very common, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He teased, looking at you mischievously. You shook your head at him.

“You’re annoying.”

“I was funny earlier.” He continued his teasing.

“That was earlier.” You retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.

He tried and failed to hold in his laugh. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Soon enough, your food came. It was really good. Mike’s was also good, you assumed, as he very loudly groaned at his first bite.

“Let me try it, if it’s so amazing.” You suggested, holding your fork towards his meal.

“Go for it, you won’t be disappointed.” He said, pushing his plate towards you. You slowly took a bite of his food, trying to hide your enjoyment.

It was good, though you would think it’d be awful. He had gotten some weird salad, one with grilled chicken, apple slices, and a pomegranate vinaigrette. You chewed slowly, trying to put a facade of disgust on. He didn’t fall for it.

“Ah, you like it. I can tell.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, stubbornly.

Your date went really well, eating and talking about yourselves. That’s what dates were for, so you went all out. The two of you talked about your plans for the future, what you wanted out of life, and your equally boring and unfulfilling jobs. Eventually, though, the topics landed on parents.

“So your parents won’t babysit Abby, ever?” You asked with raised eyebrows. He sipped on his coffee.

“Nope. We haven’t spoken since I moved out and took her with me.”

“I’m so sorry, Mike.” You said emphatically, you knew what shitty parents were like.

“Don’t be, they sucked. Were yours any better?”

“Not really. We’ve just never really gotten along.” You said with a shrug. He nodded in understanding.

“Seems like we’re in the same boat.” He said, nursing his coffee again.

“Tell me a little more about Abby.” You changed the subject, desperate to know something about the girl you were going to be babysitting during the weekends. Mike’s eyes lit up.

He told you that her favorite color was purple. She loved drawing, puppies, and any form of glitter. She was very girly and always wanted to give him makeovers. She liked to build forts and loved spaghetti and pizza.

Hearing more about Abby made you adore her even more. You loved kids and they always seemed to gravitate towards you. It seemed like babysitting would be fun, especially since you had some tips on what she liked.

Your date had to come to an end at some point, although you were both hesitant to depart from the bubble you had created.

Mike still had to work for the rest of the afternoon, and no matter how many times he told you that they didn’t care, you didn’t want to get him in trouble. He drove you back home, holding your hand in his the whole time.

When you stopped in front of your house he stopped you from opening the car door.

“Wait.” He mumbled, jumping out of the car and running to the passenger side. He opened the door for you, holding out your hand to help you out.

“How chivalrous.” You commented and you stepped out of the vehicle.

“You know me.” He said, shutting the car behind you. He followed you onto the sidewalk in front of your house, walking you towards it.

“This is me.” You said sarcastically as you walked to the front door. He smiled at your words, letting out a little chuckle.

He followed you to your front steps, just looking at you. You returned his gaze, suddenly warm with the tension that you felt. You looked at him curiously, as he glanced at your lips. You understood his intentions.

“Can I?” He asked, getting closer to you.

“Please.” You whispered.

He pulled you close by your hips, your fronts touching. You giggled at the quick movement, cut off by his lips on yours. You closed your eyes on instinct. His lips were soft and warm, all sweetness.

After a few moments of gentle kissing, you pulled away from him smiling. He shared your sentiments, smiling at you as he pushed a stray hair behind your ear.

You had wanted this so bad. And the real thing was even better than you had imagined, it made you want more. You crushed your lips back onto his, eagerly this time. He met your pace with vigor, picking up on the lust behind your actions.

He pushed you up against the door with his hands at your waist. You hungrily pulled him closer by his hair. He groaned into your mouth, allowing your tongue in. You sighed as he brought you impossibly closer.

God, he tasted good, like the brownie you shared earlier, and something else that was distinctively him. His hands eased under your shirt, kneading into the skin of your stomach.

He spread your legs apart with his knees, caging you in a little bit more. You moaned shamelessly when he pressed it up against the crotch of your jeans. He breathed it in like a breath of fresh air.

The sound of a front door shutting brought you both back into the present. He detached his lips from yours, drawing deep breaths. You felt his warm breath on your face.

His glossy eyes looked down on you as he licked his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, both of you coming down from the high of making out on your doorstep.

You started smiling at the situation, pulling one out of him as well. He pecked your lips again as if he couldn’t bear to be away from them. You fought against pulling him back to you. You suddenly remembered his words from the day before.

“On the first date? I thought you wanted to take it slow.” You remarked, he chuckled.

“I just needed to taste you.” He said, kissing your lips again. Your eyes closed involuntarily.

“And it’s basically our second date, so it cancels out.” He murmured as he pulled away.

————————————————————————————

**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

[f10werfae]

Strawberry Shortcake

pairing: Husband!Henry x Shy!Wife!Reader

summary: henry cavill x shy! reader kitchen smut, pls! Apron + daddy + slap on the ass + cock sucking + gropping + size kinks (requested by anon)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

requests are open💌/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Woah love what’re you cookin” Henry asked growling in satisfaction seeing his wife start to plate their food and setting it onto the counter top. His smirk only growing when he saw she’d listened to one of his ideas for once, her ass visible out the back of the apron as she wore nothing underneath the baby pink fabric.

“U-uh I made some roast dinner since it’s Sunday, so I thought-“

A large hand smacking her sweet behind put her into absolute shock, her husband immediately pushing himself up against her back to cage her against the counter. His large paws pushing the plates of food far away, before he lifted her up to sit up on the counter to face him at a higher level.

Y/n Cavill was definitely not the most outgoing, some may even label her as shy, but really she was just someone who enjoyed her own company and kept to herself. Now when her husband mentioned a few weeks ago that he’d like to “see his woman cooking in nothin but an apron he bought for her” She felt hotter than the sun and thought she’d never consider the idea.

However, this morning Y/n woke up with a bit more confidence in her bag, finally giving into one of her husband’s biggest fantasies. It’s the least she could do for him after he ran about 15 different grocery stores trying to find a specific brand of chocolate she liked. One might even say she was excited for this, maybe more than Henry.

“What made you do all this then? Not that i’m complaining but if you’re only doing this to make me happy then I don’t want to push you” He said softer, his arms wrapping around her waist and nuzzling his nose against hers sweetly. Her soft strawberry scent filling his nostrils, her lips pecking his cheek,

“No I wanna try it Hen, please, if that’s ok?” Smirking up at her, her apron strings suddenly came undone, the pink fabric coming off completely and falling to the ground. His hands going to grab the globes of her ass as he delivered one hell of a spank, leading her to yelp cutely.

“Look at my precious little housewife, doing anything to please me, isn’t that right darling?” He taunted watching her lips pout out before he grabbed her jaw roughly, forcing her tongue out before spitting on it and pulling her into a tough open mouthed kiss. Their mix of spit landing atop her breasts, only lubricating her nipples even more.

“Such a dirty whore for your daddy huh? How about you make me one instead?”

“mhmm I wanna”

“Yeah course you do” He grinned vainly, his hands groping her breasts, taking one into his mouth as he maintained eye contact with the blushing babe. “These tits are gorgeous, should never hide these” He moaned jiggling them about in his hand, squeezing them gently enough to elicit a soft whimper from her.

Without saying another word, Y/n hopped off the counter and immediately dropped to her knees, her tongue already out waiting obediently. Unbuckling his belt, Henry softly caressed her face before slapping it just enough for a jolt to travel through her soaking pussy. Fisting his cock slowly, he slapped the head of it onto her flattened tongue, watching her drool all over the reddened tip.

Letting her take her time, Henry watched his girl slowly take him into her mouth inch by inch. Her eyes looked up at through her long lashes as her head bobbed back and forth repeatedly. The filthiest sounds erupting from her throat as she cupped his balls, even taking a few seconds to suck on them too while rubbing his cock.

“I can feel you about to cum” She said muffled around his dick, when all of a sudden he pulled her up from the ground and manhandled her into a very compromising position, due to her being so short in comparison. He held her flush against his chest, her thighs pulled apart as he started slipping his cock through her pussy lips, coating it in all her glistening goodness.

“You want me inside you lovie?” He whispered into her ear, his hand coming up to wrap around her throat a bit tightly, his other hand around her waist and landing onto her bulging clit. All for him.

“Mhm, please fuck me, n-need it so bad daddy” She screamed out feeling his whole girth slip between her lips and reach her clit before pulling back again, completely edging her to the point of insanity.

“I don’t know if you’re ready yet honey, I might be a bit too big for you, daddy doesn’t want to hurt you”

“not fair” She whimpered slamming her hips against his, if he wasn’t going to fuck her, then she was going to fuck herself on his cock. Sliding her pussy along his length, she held onto his arms for support as he just continued to grunt and moan behind her. His cock separated her pussy lips and taunted her so well, her pussy tingling with so much want.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, go ahead baby, fuck yourself on your husband’s cock like a dirty whore”

His words only edged her close as his thick fingers rubbed on her burning button, his cock spurting cum all over her thighs as her legs buckled beneath and she near fell to the ground, Henry of course catching her before she could, and setting her onto the kitchen stool; grabbing a wet rag to clean her up. A mix of their cum slowly dripping onto the marbled floor. Henry thought she never looked more beautiful than she did in these type of moments, after an intense loving session.

“You did so good for me beautiful, soso good, my gorgeous girl” He whispered watching her pussy twitch around nothing as he cleaned close to her little fuck hole.

“Thank you Hen, can you hold me for a while longer though?” She asked feeling her shy nature start to return once she calmed down, Henry’s arms picking up her nude form and moving her next door to their living room which was always covered in weighted blankets, blankets that helped her when she felt overstimulated or just anxious.

“Of course I can honey, now get under there and get into my arms” He ushered her under the blanket first after he got his boxers back on, making sure to wrap her like a massive burrito, then placed her into his side. Right where she belonged.

——-/

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @stormcloudss @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @princess-paramour @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyefperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke

[jcwriting]

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep.  Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense.  It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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[scribeoffate]

Oh, oh, could I ask for First family Christmas, so it's the first time Isaac spends xmas with Brett (and Satomi and Lori and the rest?) pls

Isaac grips the handle of his bag. It's filled with packages wrapped in glittering red and green paper.

"You're gonna have a great time," Scott reassures him as he drives the jeep off the road onto a train in the Preserve you wouldn't notice if you didn't already know it was there.

Strains of Silver Bells play on the radio, and Isaac hums along. It's been years since he's been invited to a family Christmas.

Memories of the last time his family had been intact for the holidays flit through his head as the jeep rumbles along the path. Scott sings off tune to the song on the radio and Isaac thinks about Camden belting "Jinge Bells, Isaac Smells" at the top of his lungs while his mom told him to stop.

His dad had been distant, but loving then and hadn't protested when Isaac climbed into his lap. Camden had thrust a present at him, a kind of apology. A first edition Batman comic.

Scott pulls in front of Satomi's house and grabs his own bag of gifts from the back of the jeep.

Brett waves at him from the sprawling porch covered in mismatched furniture. Some of it even looks like it might be meant for outdoors. He catches a glimpse of Lori from the window and her friend Tierney.

He's nervous as he and Scott step inside.

Scott hands Satomi the bag of gifts with a little bow and she smiles fondly.

"Thank you, Scott. And for bringing Isaac." She hands him yet another bag of gifts. "For the children at the hospital."

Scott grins. "Thank you." And he pulls Satomi into a hug. She blushes and laughs and tells Scott that he's going to give an old woman a heart attack.

Isaac stands awkwardly, watching until Brett finds him and steers him to a towering Christmas tree, beside a menorah and Buddhist shrine.

"One of the smaller kids asked about Hanukkah this year," Brett says with a shrug, "Satomi's response was to teach him about it. If a small bundle of energy starts babbling to you about Maccabees just smile and nod."

Isaac swallows and sets his bag under the tree.

Brett grabs his hand with a small smile as soon as it's free. It's warm, and Isaac doesn't want to let go, even to hang up his coat and hat, and scarf.

Brett kisses him once in what he calls the coat room.

Jiang catches them and pats Brett on the shoulder. "Congratulations. You finally found someone to put up with your bullshit."

Isaac opens his mouth to defend Brett's honor, but Brett just smiles and punches Jiang back. "C'mon we don't want to miss dinner."

Dinner is a plethora of dishes from around the world. Brett helps Isaac with his chopsticks, and some of the smaller kids groan, moan and make kissy noises at them.

Satomi smiles, and Isaac feels warm in a way he hasn't at Christmas in years.

Satomi's pack is full and vibrant, and after dinner, the kids are allowed to open gifts first. The five small ones babble excitedly about the dreidels they all get from a young boy who looks so proud of himself.

There are thoughtful presents and gift cards, and Brett smirks when Lori opens a lump of coal. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he laughs when his gift from her is a different lump of coal.

Isaac watches his face, the way the tree lights glow against his skin. He barely notices when Brett places a package in his hands.

Isaac's heart flutters as he peels away the paper to reveal a soft, silk scarf. It's a deep maroon with the letters "IL and BT" awkwardly embroidered on each end. The stitches are shaky and off-center, and Isaac feels like he must be glowing.

"This is... it's too much," he murmurs.

Brett shrugs. "Satomi said it would help me with my anger. It did help."

Isaac hands Brett his gift, a little lacrosse keychain. It's not nearly as thoughtful.

Brett seems to love it anyways. He clips it to his keyring as Isaac wraps the scarf around his neck.

He cuddles close to Brett and leans his head on his shoulder as the pack continues to open gifts, laugh, and joke. He feels soft and warm and tingly.

He feels happy.

Satomi winks at him before pulling one of the children onto her lap along with the book he'd just unwrapped.

request a ficlet

[yeojaa]

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag.  You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.  

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash.  You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  idiots to lovers.  fluff, angst, smut.  the holy trifecta, babies!  explicit, obviously.  

tags / warnings.  mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc.  12.2k of nonsense.  pure nonsense, i tells ya. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow​ dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her.  i love you both sm!!!  ✨💜

author note.  the long-awaited fic is here!!  i really hope you enjoy it.  if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something?  i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot.  anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you!  stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker.  That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him.  It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard. 

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove.  Sometimes, she’s by herself;  often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste.  They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique.  Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be.  You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit. 

“He has no idea.”  It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts.  “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder.  How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair?  It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie. 

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”.  Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else.  Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention.  Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him.  Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face. 

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,”  she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does.  She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough.  Zero tact, though.  Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble.  You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested.  “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags.  (God, what awful taste.)  There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best.  (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction.  You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place.  Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on.  When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes.  He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW.  Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress  is.  

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect.  It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.  

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?”  He upspeaks.  It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first.  A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect.  “What’s the item and the name it’s under?”  You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine.  Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” 

You’re floored.  This is Jeon Jungkook?  This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger?  You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face.  It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers.  “I’ll grab it!  The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly.  He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends.  He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance.  It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears.  There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.  

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend?  I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.”  Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off.  “She said she was leaving on Friday.”  Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made.  “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall.  You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.  

You do feel bad.  Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this.  For hurting this stranger.  (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”  Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality.  He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip.  He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet. 

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off.  Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in.  (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.)  As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth.  “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend.  Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid.  Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours.  Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say.  Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation.  “Oh, maybe.  I’m sorry.”  The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t.  That’s a thing, right?  Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?  

God, you’re an altruist. 

“It’s fine.”  When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not.  You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word.  (You won’t.)

“Here it is!”  Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands.  If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing.  You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand.  He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying.  You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.  

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found.  Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start.  Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,”  you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands.  It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card.  The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently.  You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder.  It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum.  (You either, but still.) 

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers.  “What?”

“You know— that!”  She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago.  “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,”  you correct. 

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response.  There it is. 

“What?”  There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable. 

“What?”  It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery.  You can read every emotion that runs through her expression:  shock, displeasure, confusion.  

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth.  (She really does remind you of your little sister.)  “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder.  You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now.  There was no way he didn’t. 

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts.  That’s all.”  You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done.  You’d want to know if you were him.  Consider it an act of goodwill. 

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind.  What’s done is done.  Now he knows, or something close to it.  The chips would simply fall where they were meant to. 

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him. 

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift.  She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway.  Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding.  It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship. 

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening. 

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter.  “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression.  “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.”  You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person.  Sensible. 

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.  

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front.  You suppose it’s your responsibility now.  You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell. 

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker.  “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”  

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?”  Upspeaking again. How cute. 

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.”  You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter.  “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“  It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable.  “Thanks.  I didn’t even notice.  Um, I can come pick it up today?”  There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back.  “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out.  He truly was a sucker. 

“That’s fine.  We��re open until six tonight.”  

“I’ll be there before dinner.”  As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough.  “Before six, I mean.  Um, is around five-thirty okay?” 

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation.  Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation.  “Of course.  We’ll see you then.” 

He hangs up immediately. 

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last.  It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest.  You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon.  You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday.  Somehow, you like it more.  The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair.  It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person.  (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him.  Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.  

“O-oh.  It’s you.”  The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified.  “I m-mean, just—”  He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again.  “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.”  Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.  

“That’s right,”  you say evenly, expression neutral.  It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.  

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary.  Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room.  You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.  

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?”  He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store.  You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.  

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again.  He makes the same trip twice more.  “Can I have it?”  To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed.  He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress.  Good job, you think.

“Of course.”  You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter.  Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip.  You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything.  (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment.  Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides.  It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended.  Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact.  “May I have it, please?” 

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand.  You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable.  Is he going to say thank you?  Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems.  “Why did you do it?”  There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?”  You know what he means.  You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?”  Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you.  You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him;  it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side.  For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies.  It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his.  “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?” 

“What do you mean?”  

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror.  He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.  

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head.  It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.  

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.  

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin.  (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes.  Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.”  For once, he doesn’t sutter.  The lisp doesn’t present itself, either.  Was this the same Jungkook?  You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?”  He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name.  How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit?  It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?”  The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no.  You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly.  It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.  

“I mean like— talk talk.”  The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else.  His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.  

“Sure, we can talk talk.”  

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way.  “Are you asking me on a date?”  

“W-what?  No!”  Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears.  “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding.  Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance.  He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow.  Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.  

“So, what do you want to talk about?”  It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down.  His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving.  You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie.  It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall.  “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly.  “Huh?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  

“Um—”  He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence.  There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking.  “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out.  “You want to talk about… you?”  

“That sounds bad.”  The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.  

“It’s fine.  We’ll talk at dinner.”  

He nods.  You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy.  Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.  

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?”  He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden.  Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure.  (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.”  Everything here is incredible.  You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place.  His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel.  You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish. 

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections.  Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?”  You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.  

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute.  “So?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often.  As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper. 

“Oh.”  Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth.  He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle.  You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting.  He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected.  It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline.  “What?” 

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot.  You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip.  Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.”  It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you.  You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel.  Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you.  You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable.  A little different, sure, but altogether nice.  Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake.  You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water.  “You’re welcome, I guess.”  

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not.  His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does.  (Seriously, how big are his eyes?)  You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth.  Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?”  He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.  

“What?”  You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”  

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out.  It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent.  Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.”  Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.  

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare.  “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?”  The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.  

“That’s not my name.”  The bite disappears past his teeth.  You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook.  Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do.  Juvenile in a way but enticing in another.  You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,”  he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down.  (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.)  “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation.  He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations.  He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.  

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea.  Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,”  you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.”  He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact.  “You care about people.  You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone.  You want to do what’s right.  Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words.  Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.  

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey.  He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts.  He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up.  He decorates his apartment with the most random things:  limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates.  He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years.  All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on.  (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.)  He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his).  He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,”  he insists from behind his coffee cup.  

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”  

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”  He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable. 

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.”  It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap.  It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now.  He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had.  Youngin is good for him, though.  You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips.  When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone.  “Girls are scary.”

You laugh.  Cackle, really.  You can’t help it.  He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon.  He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak.  He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says.  (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary.  Death is scary.  Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.”  He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest.  From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture;  from him, it’s patient.  “Girls aren’t scary.  Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.” 

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”  

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good.  Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags.  Like he’s living life in greyscale. 

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze.  Instead, he laughs.  “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.”  You’re adamant, insistent.  He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft.  An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.  

You want to protect him, teach him to fly.  Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.  

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes.  He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it.  He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.  

“Fine,”  he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long.  It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused.  It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days.  You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.  

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse.  If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton.  He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew).  He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it.  (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?”  It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso.  It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm. 

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him.  He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for.  To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings.  “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.  

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is. 

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence?  (You wish you were joking.)  It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.  

“This one?”  He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face.  Medium-weight cashmere.  Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist.  It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,”  you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels.  “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law.  You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.”  He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.  

Your response is a shrug.  “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.”  You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates.  You know there’ll be something good on the menu.  

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist.  You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him.  Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink.  Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.  

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch.  That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other.  “Hey!  You’re leaving already?”  It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone.  It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes.  For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes.  “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.”  A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh?  Well, that’s certainly something new.  Good for him, you think. 

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.”  It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words.  “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her.  Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes).  Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date.  It’s a big deal. 

“Yeah—“  Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky.  “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”  

“I will,”  he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.  

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place.  It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look.  “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”  

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?  

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever).  It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you.  He’s going on a second date, after all.  Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant.  You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine.  Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine.  The two of you are friends.  You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come.  Baby boy was growing up. 

“Y’know.”  You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment.  It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?”  He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.  

You wiggle your hand dismissively.  “Second date and all that.”  

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on.  It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots.  “Just stick around.  I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door.  “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,”  you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake.  It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook.  This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook:  Hey. from jeon jungkook:  I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook:  If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook:  Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date.  It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing.  (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook:  i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops.  Of course.  He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions.  (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook:  it’s fine!  have fun! to jeon jungkook:  turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up.  Good, you think.  About time he finds someone nice.  You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.  

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact.  He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic. 

“I want you to meet her,”  he mumbles, like that makes it better.  As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”  He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over.  (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.)  You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.”  But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is.  Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately.  “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that.  No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman.  It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set.  Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise.  It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch.  (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)  

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.”  His vague response speaks volumes.  The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery.  When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway.  “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!”  Of course.  It’s obvious.  She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that.  (He is.)  “I’m not coming to dinner.”  

“You’re already in the car,”  he reasons.  

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve.  Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.”  When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him.  Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal.  Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,”  he repeats, almost pleading.  You can’t look at him.  You won’t.  The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause. 

“Fine.”  You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off.  You’re not actually mad.  Just worried.  You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand.  It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person.  You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that.  Should, anyway.  You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.  

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it.  He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line.  (Truthfully, it’s your fault.  All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by.  You’ve got a reputation to uphold. 

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat?  How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer:  you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.  

“What’re you doing here?”  At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness.  Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really).  “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge.  It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired.  So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance.  He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin.  You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.  

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)  

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day.  “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,”  the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well.  Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,”  you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold.  You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else.  If you had to guess, it’s her perfume.  It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses.  You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.  

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter.  You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare.  “So?”

“W-what?”  

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning.  Something’s happened.  Must have.  There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?”  You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him.  He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.  

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression.  He’s stalling, you can tell.  You hate when he does this.  You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small.  “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced.  What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges.  You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual.  Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned.  (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.  

“So.”  You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves.  You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest.  He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs.  Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.”  The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said.  Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.  

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look.  It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?”  It explodes out, a question that demands an answer. 

He’s staring past your head, unblinking.  You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp.  “I c-couldn’t.  It was just…”  The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”  

“Just—”  There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot.  He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise.  He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket.  “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean?  Feel right?  

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete.  It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down.  Didn’t he understand that?  Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.  

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’”  You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window.  “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately.  He doesn’t. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” 

“You like her, right?”  

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out.  Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there.  “So, you like her.”  It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way;  you don’t mean it in any way but supportive.  You just want him to be happy.  “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”  

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer.  But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise.  Hope, maybe?  Fear?   

“What?”  You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight.  He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer.  (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”  

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest.  His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair.  He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer.  Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,”  he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.”  It’s cruel.  “You’re making a bad choice.  You’re into this girl.  Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements.  “I’m not dumb.”  There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask.  It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.  

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.  

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay.  Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question.  You can’t blame her.  You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.  

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.  

“What?”  It’s less snark, more sigh.  You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.  

“What’s going on with you?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Bullshit,”  she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter.  “You’ve been in a bad mood all week.  I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.”  She’s right, of course.  You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what.  “Did something happen?”  

You grit your teeth.  An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,”  she tries again, concerned.  

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!”  She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly.  “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough.  So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right.  It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload.  (Maybe it’d be helpful.  Probably.  But you’ve never found comfort in other people.  At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.”  Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on.  “It’s fine.  Really.”  You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile.  “I just need to get some sleep.”  And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.  

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action.  It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.”  You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater.  He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,”  he mutters, refusing to meet your stare.  At least, you think he’s refusing.  It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.  

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes.  It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away.  It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?”  You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated.  He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding.  “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.”  This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him.  He hums a noise but offers nothing further.  

This is how it’ll be then.  Fine.  If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go.  He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth.  “I—  I don’t—  I didn’t say that.” 

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.  

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now.  Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.  

“W-what?”

“Tell me.”  You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round.  “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters.  What have I got that she doesn’t?”  

“You’re serious?”  

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.  You think he might say no, outright refuse.  You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.  

“You’re funny.  You’re honest.  You speak your mind.”  You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people.  He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him.  “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t.  You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”  

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen.  As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.  

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.”  He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again.  “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”  

There’s something thick in your throat.  

“You make me want to try.”  He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it.  “Y-you make things not so scary.”  

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you.  He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself.  You make me laugh.”  He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.”  You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit.  Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.  

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs.  Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words.  They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism.  “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention.  “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here.  Just a chance.”  He’s got a peculiar look on his face.  “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?” 

All of a sudden, he’s close.  Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be.  There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down.  The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.  

“You kind of ruined my life.  I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense.  You’d ruined his life?  (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.)  You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.  

“I’m kidding.”  

It feels like whiplash.  You’ve created a monster.  

“But you do owe me, I think.  So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing.  He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams. 

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out.  He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed.  He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money.  He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.  

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him).  If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either.  Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge.  He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,”  he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you.  You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom.  “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff.  It’s adorable.  

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends.  You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head.  You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.  

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.  

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups.  Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.  

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together.  Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects.  Surely there’s more to this.  Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?”  You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.  

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”  

“A playsuit?”  You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in.  Would it even fit?  Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns.  “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected.  Or at least, you think it does.  If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim. 

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal.  He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,”  he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds.  The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs.  He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick.  “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.  

“Use your words, gorgeous.”  As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck.  He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”  

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob.  Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh.  He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be.  The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.  

“You like this, don’t you?”  His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy.  “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,”  you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts.  The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin.  Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.  

“Good girl.”  Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips.  You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall.  Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips.  “Such a good girl for me.  My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she?  Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard.  Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate.  It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest.  Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it.  Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear.  You know he’ll catch you.  “I want you.”  

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same.  Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.  

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm.  The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,”  he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer.  Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am.  I am.  I am,”  you chant, tears welling along your lash line.  They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.  

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you.  It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you. 

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much.  Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings​ @veronawrites​ @notmontae97​ @papillonsgf​ i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

[ak8shi]

FWB HQ Boys: In which you beat the player at his own game!

warnings: Time skip spoilers, mentions of sex(all characters are 18+), alcohol, stupid people in love

a/n: ahh I’m sorry I’ve been a little MIA!!! But I’m back with this pls enjoy ! I think the fandom really make germaphobia his only personality trait sometimes which makes me sad because I think he’s actually a quirky/classy dude and very functional in social situations,, I hate to say it but ya’ll would get played by him… sorry.

━Sakusa Kiyoomi

Some of you may be like ???? Omi fucks around ?? how ?? BUT he definitely does in his own way

He probably doesn’t do much in high school to be honest, he’s mostly focused on improving as a volleyball player and achieving his goals

Once he reaches pro level though,,, it’s a different story lmfao

I can see him being picky as hell about his hookups, but just because he’s a bit of a germaphobe doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel attraction or doesn’t have needs…

….He’s so hot too… girl

His hook-ups are always taken seriously though… like he’s the type that feels like he has a professional image to upkeep, so he always arranges things beforehand; he’s definitely not messy about it and sets clear boundaries

I think what makes him kind of a player is how standoffish he can be…and he doesn’t really give anyone a chance because he doesn’t think they what it takes to deal with his lifestyle lmao

He’s just like, its easier to call the uber right after, get into the shower, and wait until he can hear the front door of his apartment shut I’m screamingg

Sakusa also isn’t one to kiss and tell, even with the boys… he doesn’t think its tasteful and would rather not have Atsumu up his ass about his flings

ANYWAYS,, let’s get into this, so you know Atsumu through mutual friends and met during college, and the two of you just instantly clicked since you also were a part of the same sports medicine program as him

Atsumu signed with MSBY and you were so happy for him, but you were bummed because you were busy with PT graduate school and couldn’t really attend any of his games

A year passed and you found yourself texting Tsumu to see if he could meet up and grab coffee since you were on winter break!!

You: hey I’m back in town wanna grab coffee sometime?

Him: who is this

You: I see you haven’t changed ❤️

LMFAO, so you catch up with Atsumu and he talks about his new career and his teammates, he seems so happy :(( we love to see that!!

He invites you to MSBY’s game the following weekend, and you’re pumped to go!! Tsumu got you great seats, and he meets you before warmups to make sure you’re okay finding your way around

Atsumu: don’t take yer eyes off me <3

You:

He’s so…

You’re enjoying the match and you even go to grab Onigiri from Osamu’s stand, but you can’t seem to look away from number 15 on Atsumu’s team

He’s .., scrumptious to say the least 🥴

Like he’s so composed and calculated on the court, and you find it so funny how he rolls his eyes whenever Tsumu says something to him and how Tsumu gets so heated about it 💀

The match ends and you go down to meet Atsumu near the lockers, showing the security your family/friend pass 😌

You walk through the halls trying to locate the setter, but you can’t seem to figure out where he is

The only person in the hall is the tall, dark haired man that caught your eye earlier; he is already walking towards the exit with a mask covering his face, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, sweats embroidered with “Sakusa�� adorning his body we’re all looking..... respectfully

He’s truly so intimidating but you’re like….highkey lost… so you don’t really have another option

You catch up with him, poking his shoulder gently; he turns around and his attention on you is almost STARTLING.. like his eyes are SO dark

Him: can I help you

You: sir… if you don’t rail me, I’m gonna have to intervene‼️😈😹

After getting over your initial shock, you hear multiple footsteps rumbling down the hallway towards the both of you

Sakusa lets out an annoyed sigh, muttering about how he has to go, but before he can escape you hear Atsumu’s loud voice LMFAO

“OMIIII, where are you goin’? Its team karaoke night remember?”

Tsumu sees you and slings an arm around your shoulders, “Oh-? So I see you’ve met our outside hitter Omi?”

You glance over at Sakusa, his expressionless eyes glued to your face, then slowly trailing down to analyze the way Atsumu casually has you tucked under his arm

Atsumu nudges him, and he grumbles that he’ll meet them after changing at home before walking off in the direction of the private parking garage

You meet the rest of the MSBY boys in the uber, and find them super friendly and welcoming; Bokuto and Hinata buy the first round of drinks at the karaoke bar, but you only have one because you have work to finish the next day WE STAN

Atsumu already has a pink glow setting into his cheeks when you see the boys turn their attention to Sakusa walking through the front door, looking as handsome as ever in his dress pants and fitted white t shirt

They all shout out incoherent hello’s, and he takes the only open seat next to you with a glass of gin and tonic in his hand he smells so good god

You’re unsure what comes over you, but you find yourself turning towards him, and you just start asking him about himself and his career, and surprisingly he’s very polite and much more animated than you previously thought

His voice is like…so alluring and he never looks away from you when you talk, its like he’s absorbing every word

Meanwhile, Atsumu is stumbling over the stage with Bokuto belting Love by Keisha Cole LMFAOO😭

Tsumu kind of ‘warned’ you in the car ride over that Sakusa was a germaphobe, but you know that Atsumu tends to invade people’s personal space sometimes and it probably wasn’t as dramatic as he made it out to be

However, you weren’t expecting the outside hitter to lean over from his seat after checking the time on his phone, whispering in your ear, asking you if you wanted to meet him at his place later than night WHEW

Girl I would be sweating… and you say yes ofc because who’s going to pass up this type of opportunity-

He gives you a charming smile and is like,, okay cool, I’ll see you later then 😊 I’m dead

Ya’ll exchange phone numbers and he’s like if you need any help with my idiot teammates let me know before he takes off

You don’t tell Tsumu about your little… entanglement plans dsnjaknda but honestly he wouldn’t even remember based on the way he’s slumped against you in the uber he owes you big time

You get home after dropping off Tsumu at Osamu’s, and operation dick appointment with the professional volleyball player is put into action 😈

He sends an uber over to get you ladies do not settle for less please, and you’re BIG nervous but in a good way as in you know this dick is about to be bomb af

SO you’re standing in front of his apartment door, and when he opens it, he’s still in the clothes he wore to the bar and its like 1 am he’s so powerful

Um I feel like he would get straight to it honestly, probably starts with a little convo on the couch and then…

YOU WEREN’T AWARE HE WAS SO DIRTY,,, it was SO good too like after getting home that night you’re going through a crisis… like you had so much chemistry together for having just met, and you wonder if he feels the same way🥺

You caught yourself in sleepless states some nights, kept awake by the thoughts of the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his five o’clock shadow gently rubbed against your face when you kissed, and how he would hold you(only after a thorough shower together of course)

As it happens more and more, he lets you into his life little by little, and you notice and remember small facts about him and he often remembers a lot of the things you tell him about you, its really enjoyable for both of you

Its weirdly domestic to a point but that’s why its so good for both of you???it adds a bit of spice ??

Sakusa: can you come over tonight

You: sorry the retainer is in already <3 no dick sucking for me tonight <3

Him: I bought pastries from that cafe you like

You: say less✈️ I’m coming💃

AND he HAS jokes okay, like he’s funny as hell and very witty when his true self comes out; but he’s also a HUGE tease and he’ll say something completely straight-faced that someone else might take offense to like “you look ugly,” but you just know he’s kidding from being around him long enough and from seeing the little glint in his dark eyes

It becomes a routine thing while you’re home honestly, and you try your best to hide it from Atsumu because you just KNOW you would never hear the end of it; for all he knows, you met him that one time at the bar and that was that

Everything is going smoothly until you slip up at one of their games

You were sitting in the waiting area with the team (mostly talking to Atsumu), when he just says something that makes your short circuit

Atsumu: what kind of animal do ya think omi would be? An octopus maybe?

You: yeah I mean with those flexible wrists it makes sense

Atsumu: what the fawk🤠

He’s like… how do you even know about his flexible wrists IT TOOK ME 6 MONTHS TO GET TO THAT STAGE WITH HIM-

Oops, lmfao so you kind of tell him about everything and he’s literally shocked for you, mostly because he doesn’t want you to get hurt :(

Atsumu: So I see he’s just sleeping with ANYONE anyone

LMAO noo he definitely thinks you’re too good for him and he kind of lectures you, telling you that he had a hunch that he messes around with girls like that, but also you’re an adult and you can take care of yourself, and it isn’t like it’s a serious thing!!

Meanwhile, Omi is like going through a bit of a crisis all alone because everything around him reminds him of you or something you said when you were together

He got with people who were compatible sexually often, but he never had the urge to have them stay over after the deed; he usually immediately called them an uber and wouldn’t speak to them again

He found himself thinking about seeing you in the stands at his games, wishing you were there to cheer for him only, and he adored the way you respected his boundaries unlike many of his hookups

Atsumu probably notices something is off with him at practice

Atsumu: hey…if ya ever want to talk about somethin’-

Sakusa: no

Girl… he doesn’t disclose any of this to anyone

Its nearing the end of your break, and you head over to sakusa’s for probably the last time before you go back to school

You’re kind of at the point where you don’t think anything will happen and you know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and it goes how it usually goes? Except he kind of hugs you goodbye and your heart goes: 🦋🦋🦋

You go back to school, occasionally texting Tsumu about your graduate program, and before you know it, like 5 months pass by and you’re back for summer!

Tsumu texts you and is like… sorry but I’m forcing you to be my plus-one tonight for this dinner thing I have to go to

So you dress up and he comes to pick you up, and you’re really not sure why you were surprised to see Kiyoomi sitting at the table when you arrive you give Atsumu a nice smack on the back of the head for not warning you

You sit down at the table after greeting everyone, trying your best to not act awkward when you shoot sakusa a small smile that he returns politely (but you don’t see it because of his mask)

Atsumu sits weirdly close to you the entire dinner with his arm around the back of your chair, and he’s just acting strange in general??? Like he’s bragging about your degree program and about your accomplishments, you just know he’s trying something funny; but you don’t really say anything because you don’t want to disrespect him in front of the team’s staff as a guest

You almost choke on your wine and you catch on when Bokuto starts making comments after Atsumu says something,

Atsumu: …so yeah, pretty much she should be our next president in my humble opinion

Bokuto: 🙈WOAH. WHAT?😍 HOW COULD SHE GET ANY BETTER⁉️🙄 OR HOTTER⁉️💪🏼💋

You, sitting there: 🧍‍♀️

He’s so bad at acting I’m crying..,, it becomes so obvious that they’re trying to make Kiyoomi jealous

(the boys plotted beforehand, trying to get Omi to ask you out officially; after you left, he literally would never shut up about you whenever Atsumu mentioned you, and it was just obvious he was in his feels when it came to you)

Atsumu: she’s studying at a café tonight for finals

Sakusa: Yeah so I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been thinking about it for days. Fine I guess I’ll say it. Her favorite coffee blend is French roast and she only likes a dash of sugar with a lot of cream, but it has to be hazelnut creamer or else she doesn’t like any-

Everyone in the gym: 🗿

LMAO ANYWAYS ITS LOWKEY WORKING you look over at him and his face is like stone.. girl..

The dinner is almost over and Atsumu gets up to go to the restroom with a wink I hate him, and you get up to catch a breath of fresh air outside

You sit on a bench for a minute, calming yourself down after the eventful dinner, but then you see the door to the restaurant swing open, Sakusa looking around the corner before spotting you

Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks over and asks if he can join you, inspecting the bench before sitting down, pulling his mask down as well

He eases into a conversation by just asking you how you’re doing, basic stuff, but then in the middle of you going off on a tangent about your stupid professor, he stops you

“I missed you.”

He crosses his legs, not looking at you as he takes your hand, intertwines it with his, and places it in his lap

You gaze at him, taken back at his confession, noticing the slight pinkness tinging his pale cheeks

You say you missed him too, and then he’s asking you if you would like to go on an actual date with him

You: wait are you asking me out officially?

Him: Yes. No I’m not. Yes I am❤️

SKSLD Please he’s awkward help him a little, you agree and then you hear a tap on the window behind you, you turn around to see Tsumu, Bokuto and Adriah behind you with big grins on their faces LMFAO 🤡

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the small upturn of the corners of his lips as he hears Bokuto happily scream through the glass

[sweetheartspencer]

pls,,, soft giggly ralvez handjobs in the office,,, like not any d/s or NOTHIN just like they use an empty office to jerk each other off and theyre so giggly and cute about it

pleaseee this is so cute 🥰💞

~~~~

"Luke– Luke—"

"Hm?" Luke hums, not breaking away from where he's trailing wet kisses along Spencer's jaw.

"What the hell are you doing?" Spencer laughs, trying halfheartedly to squirm away.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Luke grins, pulling back to look at him, eyes twinkling. His hand slips lower, settling over the crotch of Spencer's pants and squeezing. Spencer swallows, hard.

"You told me you wanted to go over the details of last weeks case," Spencer laughs breathlessly as Luke palms him through his slacks, and he feels himself growing hard embarrassingly quickly under his boyfriend's touch.

"You bought that?" Luke's eyebrows shoot up. "Why would I need to bring you to a back-corner office that's been empty for months to do that?"

"I don't know," Spencer admits. If he's being honest, he's having a bit of trouble thinking right now what with his boyfriend's hand on his cock and everything. "Fuck," he sighs, tipping his head back against the wall when Luke starts to undo his belt.

"Maybe later," Luke says lightly, "but I think my hand will have to do for now."

Spencer laughs, cupping Luke's jaw and pulling him in to kiss him firmly. He can feel Luke's smile against his lips.

Spencer's mouth falls open on a gasp when Luke finally gets his hand inside his pants, long curling his fingers around his cock. Luke takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deep and filthy just the way Spencer likes, the way that never fails to make his head spin.

"This is so unprofessional," Spencer breathes, although he doesn't truly care all that much. "We must be breaking some kind of rule here."

"What, it's a crime for me to want my boyfriend?" Luke jokes.

"Only if I don't return the favour," Spencer grins.

Luke's laughter rumbles against his chest as Spencer makes quick work of his belt, rucking Luke's pants down just enough to get his hand around his cock. Luke moans, low and quiet, and just the sound of it makes Spencer's cock twitch in his hand.

Luke honest to god giggles at him, and Spencer can't even manage to wipe the grin off his face when he tells him "Shut up," before kissing him again, hard. Luke's kisses always make Spencer light-headed and right now is no exception— Luke kisses him long and deep and still somehow gentle, kisses him like he loves him, and Spencer couldn't wipe the smile off his face even if he wanted to.

He works his fist over Luke's cock quick and even, twisting his fist at the head and savouring the way it makes Luke moan quietly in the back of his throat. Luke matches his pace, and Spencer has to bury his face into Luke's neck and focus on trailing kisses along his throat to muffle his gasps and whines.

After another minute, Luke pulls away just enough to spit into his hand and then wraps his hand around the both of them, pressing their cocks together and working his hand over them both. The feeling of Luke's hard cock pressed tight against his is almost enough to make Spencer's legs give out.

"Oh, fuck," he mutters, his eyes falling closed, mouth slack. Luke grins breathlessly, leaning in to mouth at the hollow of his throat, teeth grazing just lightly enough to avoid leaving marks but hard enough to make Spencer moan, loud. Too loud. Spencer quickly slaps a hand over his own mouth.

"Careful baby," Luke teases, "wouldn't want someone to hear you breaking the rules."

Spencer can't help the laugh that bubbles out of his chest, his laughter muffled against his palm. "I hate you," he says, once he's deemed it safe to take his hand away.

Luke doesn't even bother to respond, opting instead to just kiss him again. He kisses him and kisses him, his hand still moving over the both of them, squeezing, working them closer and closer to the edge.

The tension is building in the pit of Spencer's stomach, the coil of pleasure tightening, and his nails dig into Luke's biceps as he gasps out, "Close, 'm close."

"Yeah baby?" Luke breathes, looking at him with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, beautiful in his debauchery. "C'mon then, Spence. Shit, Baby, oh fuck. Come on."

"Fuck," Spencer moans, and tension snaps and he comes, hard, cock twitching wildly in Luke's fist. Luke follows only a few seconds later, groaning low and gorgeous, hips jerking as he spills over his own fist.

Breathing hard, Spencer tips his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, trying to focus on catching his breath. It's a few seconds later that he feels Luke's hand on his cheek, gentle, pulling him in for a soft, sweet kiss. Spencer smiles into it, kissing him again the second Luke starts to pull away.

Finally, Spencer lets him go, and Luke takes a step back, tucking himself away and zipping his pants back up. He grabs a few tissues from the abandoned box on the dust-coated desk to clean his hands, regarding Spencer with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and looking him up and down.

"What?" Spencer asks.

Luke just shrugs, clearly suppressing a grin. "You might want to change your shirt."

Spencer looks down, wrinkling his nose at the sight of his navy button down, now striped with ropes of white.

"Are you serious?" he groans.

Luke just laughs. "I'll go grab your go bag so you can change."

"Thank you," Spencer grumbles, begrudgingly accepting another chaste kiss from Luke before he steps away. "This is your fault, you know," he says pointedly, gesturing down at his ruined shirt.

Luke just smirks a him, one hand already on the door handle. "I'm sure you'll find some way to get back at me."

[anyoneseenadam]

Home: Chapter Seven

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing, 

word count: 3.9k

a/n: I’m entirely writing this to distract myself from the real world but honesty I’m having a great time, I think there will be one more chapter after this one and maybe an epilogue but asides from that, also feel free to message or ask if you want to be tagged :)) anyway enjoy and pls comment and shiz :)

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Azriel had once joked that you were like an actual flower, needing water and sunlight to use your powers. At the time you had laughed but now as you stood in front of the mirror, wiping the tears from under your eyes, and preparing to walk into the world of all things dead, you understood. The dress you wore was one of the few fancy ones you reserved for the dinners you were often dragged to before your fall. It was lavender, with tulle cascading down your legs from the waist, paired with a tight corset top and tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves. As you sat with a ‘humph’ and started applying your makeup, your stepbrother walked in.

“Well you look cheery,” Nico said, sitting on your bed.

“I look like an evil power puff girl,”

“You look like you are a princess, which you are so my dad is going to be pleased.”

“I really don’t care what he thinks,” you snapped, and Nico help up his hands. He was wearing all black as usual, simple dress pants and a loose black shirt tucked in, his belt matched his rings, and his dark hair and even darker eye bags made him look every bit the Underworld prince. “Sorry, I’m not mad at you,” you said turning back around to carry on with your makeup.

“I know, it’s stressful for you,” he moved to sit next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and you applied eyeliner.

“I don’t wanna get sick again, I have things to do. Plus I’ve got to convince your dad to let me ask for this favour. I just feel like it’s all going to go to shit.”

“I get it, you’ll be fine though. Also I’m pretty sure your mum is going to do anything for you if it means you’ll speak to her again, so she’ll be on your side at least. That’s three vs one.” He nudged you as you put down the eyeliner.

“That’s true.” You bit the inside of your lip and Nico, sensing your worry, changed topic.

“Tell me about Azriel,” He said, and you caught his eye in the mirror.

“Huh?”

“Well I gotta make sure that when you become his problem it will be permanent, I don’t want you coming back,” he joked.

“Fuck you,” you laughed shoving his shoulder and he giggled, rolling onto his back.

“I don’t want to do thisssss,” Nico said in a sing-song voice lying flat on the floor.

“Me neither but I’m not going in alone bitch,” you laughed, starting to feel slightly better. It was moments like this that made you regret pushing your friends away, the thought of seeing them was always scary but when you were with your brother again you remembered why you loved them so much. You assessed your outfit in the mirror and sighed.

“What?” Nico asked, sitting back up.

“This would look really nice with a dark red lip,” you said, biting your lip.

“Do you have one?” he asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for a second before reaching out and ruffling through your makeup, finding your favourite red lipstick. “Do you wanna try?”

“Yeah, but if I cry it’ll mess up my eyeliner.” You said with a shaky laugh. He laughed quietly handing you the lipstick and you looked at him in the mirror, taking in a shuddering breath. You were stronger than this and you could handle it. You closed your eyes for a minute, counting your breaths, before opening the lipstick.

Once it was applied you lifted your chin, staring down the girl in the mirror. Nico grabbed your hand softly and you tore your eyes away, standing and pulling on your shoes.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

--

Azriel was in a shit mood. He was 90% sure that you had cast some sort of spell on him when he was with you, something that made him happy and relaxed, because now that you weren’t here he pretty much wanted to throttle everyone.

Amren had been helping him look for a way to get back to you. The first thing they had tried was winnowing, he pictured your face; your smile, the way your hands felt in his, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t reach you. So they had been scanning books since then, reading up on every theory and myth. Nesta had brought him to speak to Gwyn who had told him about the theory that there could be up to at least 20 other worlds. Amren had also made him talk through every detail about this world he could remember, writing diligent notes as Cassian gave him weird looks when he spoke about Bucky Barnes.

“He’s a character, it’s a simple concept.”

“Yeah but how do you get an emotional connection to a character?”

“Shut up both of you.”

The pain in his chest was only growing as well, and he came to the daunting realisation that if he failed this; if he couldn’t get back to you, or get you back to him, he would probably have to deal with it for the rest of his long, long life.

He felt bad for taking his frustrations out on his family who were just worried about him, but he had never felt this way before. All he could think of was the way your eyes cleared when the realisation dawned on you. The way you had gone from sobs to a different, all-consuming kind of pain, just for a second, your eyes clearing as you realised you might never see him again. He hated himself for not being strong enough to put up a fight, he knew he wasn’t a match for a god, but he should’ve tried, he was too shocked at the time, too heartbroken, but now he was terrified that you might think he gave up on you. He had to get back to you, he was afraid what you might do if you were alone again. If you were alone after having the bond dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away moments later.

It was almost 3am and everyone else in the house had gone to bed, but Azriel didn’t sleep well normally, and he especially wouldn’t while he was apart from you. He looked up from his book when he heard someone clear their throat, his head whipped up an incredulous smile gracing his features when he saw you sitting there.

“Baby,” he started moving forward but you held your hand up, stopping him.

“Oh that’s just too sweet, you kids are giving me so much content,” you dabbed at your eyes, and Azriel frowned.

“(y/n)? what’s going on?”

“Oh I’m not (y/n) sweetie, but that’s just adorable. My name is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, I often appear as whoever you find most beautiful.” Azriel’s heart dropped, the brief happiness he felt seeing your face gone as the lady spoke.

“Aphrodite? Hermes mentioned you.” He said, tensing as he realised he was dealing with another god. “In fact he said it was your fault this all happened.”

“Oh Hermes, always blaming someone else. You should be thanking me.”

“And why would I do that.” Azriel knew the look on his face was deadly, but something about seeing a god cower under his gaze was feeding his ego.

“Haven’t you worked out why you can’t travel back to her.” She raised her eyebrows at him, her expressions may be on your face, but as he paid more attention she seemed like a completely different person. “I have the power to move through world’s, you do not. I just thought that poor, sweet girl had been through enough that she should get to meet her soulmate. I waited for you after your mission and then just made you forget and let the two of you fall in love naturally, I mean I get teary eyed thinking about it, you’re just too cute!”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “So why are you here? Are you going to bring her to me?”

“Hmm I could, but I’d get in so much trouble, plus she’s very smart and I want to see if her plan works. You people are so very entertaining.” Her face rippled for a second as she turned, and she briefly looked like Mor, then Elain, then back to you. “But you, poor boy,” He chose to ignore the condescending tone, “You were dealt a very bad hand love wise, so maybe if she doesn’t succeed I could pull a few strings, but I do have a holiday planned so it may be a few decades.”

Her laugh made him feel sick and he glared at her, “What did you say about her plan?”

“Oh yes! She’s going down to the underworld to try find a solution,” Aphrodite was moving around the room gracefully as Azriel sat back down, the weight of Aphrodite’s easy words hitting him. She picked up one of the books laying on the desk and made an unimpressed noise, throwing it back down carelessly.

“That’s where the dead go right?” he asked, silently praying he was wrong,

“Yup! Don’t worry though, her mother lives there too,” she said ‘mother’ with a slight snarl, but Azriel ignored her. “You know I get why she likes you, you’re very pretty aren’t you?” She walked over to him, swaying your hips and he had to remind himself it wasn’t you as she sat down in his lap, forcing his hands to stay clenched at his side. She ran your hand along his jaw, tilting her head with a smile as she stroked his face. Her thumb rested on his bottom lip as he glared at her with murderous rage, trying to reel it in as he remembered she was possibly the only one that could help him.

“Well I guess I better go,” She sighed dramatically then pressed a perfectly polished gold coin into his hand, “Flip this if you need me, emergencies and sex only.” She winked at him, before kissing his cheek and standing, waving seductively before vanishing. Azriel sat for a few minutes, reeling from the interaction he just had. Is this the world I’ve entered now? Gods who can do whatever they want? He wondered if that’s why you avoided talking about the Gods, if maybe growing up with this had made you bitter to them. He wanted to ask you and talk to you about it, or anything for that matter but instead he just pocketed the coin and stood, winnowing to his room, and collapsing on his bed.

--

“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Your mother cried out as you and Nico arrived, you were leaning heavily on his arm, while surrounded by death, the coldness of a lifeless place seeped into your bones and weakened you, you had learnt as much the first time you visited. You gave your mother a tight-lipped smile and hugged her awkwardly.

“Oh I missed you so much dear,” she stroked your hair, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“You could’ve visited.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice, after all you had gone through and she hadn’t visited once. A look of shock passed over her face but before she could reply Hades thundered in, his usual outfit, ‘the robes of death and despair’ as you fondly called them, were replaced by a dark suit, his hair slicked back from his face. He came to Persephone’s side and rested a hand around her waist pulling her in slightly, and despite yourself you felt a little jealous of their closeness as your mother looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Nico, my son, how are you?” Hades deep voice silenced the room, the very air seeming to stand still, and Nico flushed red as he was put on the spot. The four of you exchanged pleasantries as you made your way to the ridiculously long table, Hades sat at the head on one side, Persephone on the other, with Nico and you facing each other in the centre. The wood was dark, but the table was covered in all sorts of colourful food and you all helped yourselves while making small talk, only managing to hear your parents due to the eery silence of the room, dead guards not needing to make any noise.

After the first few courses and once you had consumed enough white wine to gain some courage you turned to face your mother.

“Mum, I think I need a favour if that’s okay?” you asked with great caution, extremely aware of the powerful forces surrounding you.

“Well that depends dear. What is it?”

“After the battle and the… fall, I never got my reward remember, I instead asked to be able to come get it when I needed it.”

“Yes of course, I thought that was very smart!” your mother spoke cheerfully but you could feel Hades’ gaze on your back, burning through your skin and bones to the very essence of your soul. “Let me guess, you need it now?”

“If that’s okay, some things have changed recently and I now know what I need,” you smiled at her, “I met a man, well actually he’s a faerie. Aphrodite wanted us to meet because we’re soulmates and after my fall she thought I deserved to see him, but since he’s from another world he had to go back, and we can’t be together.” You wiped away a few stray tears you forced out; this was your game. Your mother didn’t visit you often so she had never seen this side of you, the side that could manipulate even a god into giving you what you wanted. “So I thought, maybe for my reward I could become Fae and be permitted to live with Azriel in his world, and maybe come and visit my friends occasionally?”

“Oh that sounds lovely dear! That’s so alike me, I had to beg my mother and even then she didn’t let me stay here,” your mother rattled on and you smiled at her, but your shoulders were still tense as you knew you hadn’t won yet. You turned to where Hades sat, rubbing his temples.

“I get it. I do. But I really don’t think my brother would allow that, it’s too much.”

“Too much?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping.

“I understand you went through a lot,”

“Do you?” you couldn’t stop the biting words, “Because the last I checked you both sat and did nothing while I was tortured down there. You could’ve done something, but you didn’t, you made a choice not to, and now I ask for ONE thing, and it’s too much?” Hades’ glare was murderous, but you weren’t going to back down.

“I mean if you really think about it, I’ll be out of your hair if you agree. One less demi-god always seems to be a win for you guys.” Nico said your name in warning, but you slowly stood. “I am not asking for much, I am asking to be allowed to live a life with the man I love and after all I have been through, fighting YOUR battles, I think it’s the least I deserve.”

You held Hades’ gaze for a few more seconds until he spoke. “Are you sure your not a child of Nyx?” he asked, and you grinned, cocking your head to the side.

“Why would that be?”

“You have a pure evil streak in you girl and uncharted power. You better learn to control it, before someone catches on.”

“We won’t have a problem I’m presuming?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said gruffly, going back to his meal and you relaxed, moving to hug your mother goodbye, whispering thanks to her, before linking arms with Nico and leaving.

--

The next day you awoke to a golden invitation to Olympus, and you smiled, soon. You’d be with him soon.

--

Olympus looked much nicer since Annabeth had gotten involved. You may have been biased but it seemed to hold a sense of home it never had before, the clinical cleanliness now feeling purer and more loving. The throne room however had remained much the same.

You stood alone in the middle surrounded by the arc of thrones, but you refused to take your eyes of Zeus. You had received a wink from Apollo and a smile from Aphrodite as you walked in but beside that it had been eye contact for at least five minutes. You knew better to speak before you were spoken to but the way they surrounded you and stared down on you was bringing up bad memories and you were really fighting a panic attack.

Seemingly sensing this Apollo cleared his throat, “Perhaps we should start father?” While you were grateful a part of you hated how well the flirtatious god knew you, he was the first to tend to your wounds when you first escaped, healing them enough so you wouldn’t die from blood loss but not enough for anyone to suggest he was picking favourites. His warm hands had provided a sense of comfort you thought you had lost entirely.

Zeus nodded slowly, a letter appearing in his hand, “So these are your terms? Transformation into high Fae, permission to live in a new world with visits back to this one twice a year?” you presumed Hades, or your mother had written the letter, neither of them present currently. You nodded clearly, not entirely trusting your voice.

“I guess it’s only fair, but a full transformation will hurt,”

“I’m sure I can take it.” you lifted your chin, holding your shaking hands tightly in an attempt to conceal them.

Zeus laughed, not taking his eyes of you, “I’m sure you can. Does anyone have any major oppositions?”

Aphrodite raised her hand, “I’d like to add that during her transformation, her womb changes shape so she may birth Illyrian children.” You shot her a grateful look, still not entirely sure why she was suddenly so invested in ensuring your happiness, but you wouldn’t complain.

Hera was the next to speak and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Why is she getting special treatment again? What did she do that was so different?”

“She was tortured for days!” Athena exclaimed,

“So?” Ares now.

“She was a child, it was brutal.” Apollo jumped to your aid and soon the chamber was filled with shouting voices as they argued over your fate.

“SILENCE.” Zeus quieted the room instantly and every eye turned to him, but he remained focused on you, “Well then? Answer the question girl, what makes you so special?”

You thought for a second before answering, “I don’t consider it special treatment. After the battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve endured to help your causes, I’d consider it a form of retirement.” You kept Zeus’ gaze and let a streak of the evil Hades had warned you off show, smiling when his smug smile disappeared. He waved his hand, “Very well then, High Fae with altered womb and permission to live in their world and visit our occasionally, that is all?”

You nodded and he assessed you before holding out his hand, his gaze darkening. You furrowed your eyebrows as your limbs started to tingle before pain took over your entire body.

--

You had felt pain so many times before, pain that left more than just physical trauma, but this was different. You felt as if your blood had become fire and every bone was breaking as new ones reformed. You didn’t have any sense of time or place, all you could feel was pain. At one point you thought it was over only to open your eyes, feeling impossibly soft sheets beneath you, and see Apollo hovering over you, sweat dripping from his brow as he took some of the pain away, even for just a moment.

When you finally awoke you were on the ground. You stood up quickly, almost knocking yourself over as your movement were much faster than usual. You were outside a glowing city, it didn’t have skyscrapers like New York, but it was so comforting to look at you felt yourself being drawn in. As you crossed the border however, a beautiful man with dark hair appeared, his eyes narrowing.

“Who are you and why are you trying to get in here?” A shot of fear went through you as you felt his magic, it was thick in the air and powerful.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just looking for someone,” you explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat. The handsome man’s gaze turned vacant before softening after a moment.

“I apologise, I’m Rhysand. Let me help you find whoever it is, what’s their name?”

“That’s okay, really. His name is Azriel, but I don’t think he’s expecting me.” Rhysand stopped, his head turning towards you, “what is it?” you asked.

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?” you stepped back but he held out his hands,

“No, no I’m Az’s brother, let me take you to him.” he grabbed your arm softly and suddenly you were standing in a warm room facing Azriel. You felt tears fill your eyes as you stared at him, he uttered your name in question and you nodded running into his arms, completely engulfed by his scent, tears of joy running down your face when you suddenly realised something, pulling away.

“Did you say brother?” you turned to Rhysand, feeling all the plants in the air respond to your calls, when Azriel tugged you back to him.

“Not biological don’t worry.” He whispered and Rhysand laughed.

“I like her.”

“Hmm I was two seconds away from castrating you,” His eyes widened slightly and you laughed, turning back to Azriel as he looked over you.

“How- you, you’re Fae?” His eyes were filled with worry again, afraid he was being tricked.

“I never got my reward remember, I knew I would need it in the future,” you smiled at him as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you. You pulled apart, Azriel growling when you heard catcalls, turning, and seeing the room had practically filled. A shot of fear went through you as your eyes landed on another man who had red siphons, and Azriel followed your gaze, a hand stroking your face in reassurance.

“So this must be (y/n), welcome to our home, I’m Feyre,” A beautiful woman stepped forward and clasped your hand in hers, which you noted were stained from paint. Everyone else soon made introductions and they urged you to sit as you found out about this makeshift family Azriel was in.

“Oh! That’ll be Nyx, I’ll go,” Feyre said when a baby started crying in the distance,

“Wait what did she say the babies name was?” You asked, holding in a laugh.

“Nyx?” Rhys said,

“Oh, course, cool cool cool,”

“What?” Azriel asked, looking at you strangely.

“I’ve kind of met her,”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like the evilest deity there is, and she did not like me,” Rhysand stared at you with a look of shock on his face, but before anyone said anything else, Amren was laughing loudly.

“You must tell me all about these Gods girl.”

--------------------------------------------------

tags: @tastedlikedamnation

[person-line]

it’s whatever #3

pairing: eren x reader

unrequited feelings, best friend! reader

#2 | epilogue

2 Years time skip

“YAHOOO Y/N!”

“Ms Hange!”

“Ah I told you not to call me that! Hange would be good enough, I know boss Levi was a little bit strict today but he will losen up! It’s been a while since we had new recruits since he’s very specific about the people we have working here but hes an angel don’t worry he just.. lacks the ability to show it-“

“Oi.”

His harsh voice sent shivers down your spine even though you weren’t the one talking, after being nagged at by him the whole day I wouldn’t blame you. Who knew a guy could be so specific about tea as well? You were just doing a favour.

“Ah Levi we were just talking about you, anyways y/n do you want to come drinking with me, Erwin & Levi, you know celebrate your first day”

“Who said I was going”

“Erwin did, so what do you say y/n you in?“

You would feel bad if you didn’t come along, after all, she lead you through everything even tho she had her own work too. After all, you deserved to drink too right? You haven’t drank ever since you went out drinking with Jean after Eren left. You were fine now tho, you got over him just fine. Ever since then you still haven’t found anyone tho, but you were content with that.

“Yeah sure!”

“Oi brat you still have work tomorrow don’t go overboard, I’m not your boss outside work so I’m not gonna watch over you”

“Levi stop acting like a dad you can’t even take care of yourself and you’re always caring about other people” Erwin says showing up behind Levi.

“OKAYYY Let’s go!!”

Hange sends you the address and you drive up to the bar. It wasn’t that far from your work place, in fact you probably could have walked.

The 4 of you drink while Hange and Erwin shares embarassing (but very cute) stories of Levi. He just glares at them while drinking. What is that his 5th shot already? He barely even changed in state, he just stopped being so uptight but what is this guy a god? Also did I mention that your alcohol tolerance wasn’t the best? Especially since you haven’t drank in a while. Also knowing how COMPETITIVE you are you tried to keep up with the rest of them knowing they were so much older than you and DEFINETELY had higher tolerance. Anyways, you didn’t take too much, at least thats what you thought.

You just sat there really quiet and just stared at everyone. Could’ve sworn you almost passed out. You weren’t really a loud drunk compared to many people you knew.

“Y/n is that you?”

Startled by the random tap when you almost passed out for the nth time this night.

“mm... Eren? Ah is this one of those dreams again... am I lucid dreaming actually?”

“You dream about me?”

“I can’t control what I dream about idiot”

He didn’t have to ask if you were drunk. He knew you were. He saw the way you almost passed out multiple times from the time he entered and walked to you. Was that even possible? It’s not like he hadn’t drank with you before.

“WHO ARE YOU DON’T HURT Y/N IF NOT YOU’LL KNOW WHAT THESE HANDS CAN DO”

“Hangeee I know him”

“Oh. Are you sure you’re not just drunk? Ah i’ll just keep an eye on you.”

“Oi why are there 2 brats now.”

“I think Levi and I are gonna head home now, though he does look fine, he had too much to drink so I’m still concerned.”

“mmm... Erwin and boss Levi lives together?”

“Yea they do” Hange replies smilling.

“Ok think i’m gonna take a nap here”

Eren chuckles and pats your head.

“Ah how It’s been two years, you’re still the same”

Hange takes a moment to connect the dots and suddenly jumps from their seat.

“Wait... are you y/n’s ex boyfriend??”

“Ah no nothing like that, we just used to be close friends back in college.”

“Ohh!! Okay then you should know where she lives! Can you give me her address? I’ll drive her home”

“Actually I can drive her home she lives a few blocks down my house.”

Hange stares at Eren in distrust. Eren realises he might seem really sketchy right now and digs out his phone from his bag pocket.

“I’ll show you photos of us when we were younger hold on”

Eren opens up his phone and goes through his photos showing them photos from middle school all the way to college. Ah nostalgia. Halfway through showing them Hange just stared at Eren and saw the affection in his eyes. Maybe they could trust him?

“Alright, bye y/n!!”

“Bye Hange thank you for today”

Hange waves back at her and smiles, leaving the pair.

“Y/n let’s go back, just like the old days right”

“Can drive myself”

“No you can’t stop being stubborn”

“Yes I can watch me”

Eren shakes his head and carries you throwing you over his shoulder.

He straps you to the seat (FOR SAFETY, WITH A SAFETY BELT DON’T BE SICK) and drives you back. He parks the car and the both of you just sat there. Not saying a word. Honestly I don’t know why you didn’t leave but I’m sure you had your fair share of things to say too.

“Can we talk?” Both of you said at the same time. Remind you of something?

“Ah I think I’ll say it first remembering what happend the previous time.” You said, you were a little sober now but you still had a loud mouth when spoken to.

“I kinda miss hanging out with you? I mean like I don’t still have feelings for you so I don’t know i hope it’s okay if we hung out again. Kinda miss a loser dorky competitive best friend.”

Eren throws his head back laughing pushing his hair back. He didn’t give a rebuttal knowing if he did the fight could go on forever.

“I was about to say the same thing. But I kinda have something to add on? It’s okay if you say no really. It’s just a thought”

You looked up to see his face under the moonlight. He was still beautiful, he didn’t age one bit besides facial hair and longer hair. You could still see the kid inside him. It felt like home again, you haven’t felt that in a long time.

“So me and Mikasa didn’t really work out, I mean it wasn’t so personal for either of us since the attraction was there but it was more out of respect than anything. And I guess ever since that night you left, well more like I asked you to leave, I really did miss hanging out with you. I don’t really know myself if whatever I felt about you back then was anything romantic, but ever since then I still felt like I lost someone really important. It didn’t feel like when i lost my parents, it was just different? I was so scared to loose you then and even now. What if that was the last time we were going to talk? Would we have known? Would things have been different? All I’m trying to say is you’re really important and I’d really want to go back to how we were and maybe try something? We don’t have to force it, but I wouldn’t want to go through that again. I want to spend the rest of my life with you if I could. I don’t think I’ve felt this about anyone. I know this is selfish but it wouldn’t hurt to try? I completely understand if you wouldn’t want to cross that line-“

You started tearing up and smilling. You haven’t heard him ramble in so long. You missed this feeling.

“Eren I really-really missed you too, more than I would’ve thought, I think I’d want to try but I can’t promise anything. I wouldn’t want to loose you too”

Eren hugs you and ruffles your hair. The hug lasted longer than you would have thought but it felt like mere seconds to the both of you. You pulled back even though it was pretty hard with his VERY LARGE arms around your body. You both look up to each other giggling with a few tears down both of your faces. Both of you were crucial to both of your lives, you both spent your teenage years together, of course this was emotional.

author’s note

hey! So this will be the last of this series but there will be an epilogue so pls stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed this, I’m so happy to see that my first fanfic at least got noticed by a few of you.

masterlist.

[reachfolk]

24, confession for Alexi!

💛 from @korvanjund

prompt: alexandria silver-blood + “confession”

summary: alexandria is easier to talk to that lucien ever expected her to be.

tags: lucien flavius, first kiss, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, alexi is so whipped pls

warnings: some spoilers for his quest but i tried to keep it vague !!

word count: 1.5k (this was supposed to be 500 words IM LKDFLKJ)

author’s notes: TYSM FOR PICKING THIS ONE, i've been wanting to get this scene out of my head for approximately 87 years lol. i kept the spoiler-y part of it as vague as humanly possible. all you need to know is that lucien asked the ldb to escort him to a dwemer ruin for his research, then he did A Thing behind their back, and they have every right to be Very pissed at him

As the pair waited for the lift in Dumzbthar to carry them back to the surface of Solstheim, Lucien shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He watched Alexandria nervously beside him, though the Reachwoman didn't seem to pay him any mind.

She was all too occupied with the ingredients she'd picked up from the daedra infesting the ruins—namely the hearts. If it was anyone else, the sight of someone grinning maniacally into a sack filled with loose hearts while muttering excitedly to themselves would be horrifying, but he'd spent enough time with her to have entirely gotten used to it.

No, that wasn't what made him nervous at all. This was quintessential Alexandria behavior. What made him nervous was what she would say after the high of getting herself some rare ingredients would wear off, and she went right back to being just as mad at him as when they'd entered.

The elevator halted to a stop, and the cold chill of northern Solstheim's air hit them. Alexandria never took her eyes off the bag of ingredients as she walked forward blindly. Lucien had to grab onto her arm and hold her back to make sure she didn't trip on the stairs and fall down the side of the mountain while lost in her own thoughts.

The motion must have caught her attention, and she finally looked up. "Huh?" It was then that she finally noticed the icy stairs. "Oh! Right, oops. I'm just so excited!" She bounced slightly in place before finally tugging the sack shut and attaching it at the belt on her hip. "Anyway, what should we do next? I'm thinking we should start heading back to meet Frea."

"Uhm," Lucien said, hesitantly. "Don't you think we have some things to talk about first?"

She blinked, as though expecting him to elaborate.

"About what just happened?"

"Huh? Oh." She snorted a laugh. "Yeah, that was messed up, wasn't it?"

Alexi had always been known to be easily distracted, but this was throwing him for a loop. "Are you not mad about it anymore?"

She gave a shrug. "I got it out of my system, I suppose. It worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so." He wasn't quite sure if he ought to be relieved yet, still confused by her reaction. "So that means you do want to keep travelling together? Even after what I did?"

The mere idea of it seemed to alarm her. "What? Of course I do! Do you not want to?"

"No! I mean, yes. I mean—" His panicked answer left him more confused, and he opted to start over. "Travelling with you has been the time of my life. I'd hate to cut it short."

"Then we're in agreement," she said, giving him the same bright smile she always had. She stepped closer, taking his right hand in both of hers. "Why are you so worried, then?"

Looking at her now, the idea that she'd hate him felt inconceivable. "You trusted me," he answered, "and I betrayed that. I did something stupid then I hid it from you. I'm so—"

"Don't say you're sorry again!" She chuckled. "You've said that a million times already."

Her smile was infectious, and despite the anxiety he felt, he found himself smiling too.

"Look, Lucien," she said, tightening her grip on his hand, "I'm not mad at you for what you did. I was... upset, that you thought you'd have to keep something like that from me. I had hoped you'd know that if something was on your mind, we could work it through together. Even if I didn't agree with you, I would have been there for you from the start, you know."

He kept his gaze lowered, watching Alexi rub little circles into the back of his hand. "I know," he said. "I should have known I could rely on you. You've given me more than enough reason to."

It didn't seem to satisfy her, however. She brought her hand up to his chin and lifted his head, forcing him to meet her gaze—as gentle and loving as ever.

"I'm not reprimanding you, you know," she said. "I'm saying this doesn't change anything, and I hope it helped you see just how much I love you. Remember that next time there's anything weighing on you that you want to say."

His heart beat suddenly tripled at that. It wasn't the first time she'd told him that; she could hardly go a half hour without telling her friends she loved them. But it was the gentle way she looked at him. The way she stood so close the cold puffs of their breaths mingled together. The way she held his hands, and cradled his face, and—

"Can I kiss you?"

The little puffs of steam wisping between them dissipated as both of them stopped breathing for a moment. Alexandria stared at him, dumbfounded, as the request slowly sank in, and the full force of his words suddenly hit him.

"'M s'rry!" The words jumbled together, practically falling over each other in their hurried effort to leave his mouth. He repeated, more coherently this time, but no less panicked, "I'm so sorry! I—I didn't think—! The words just came out before I could even think! It was stupid, and selfish, and embarrassing, and—"

"Please?"

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"Please," she repeated, eyes wide and hopeful, "kiss me?"

Oh.

Oh.

Okay. No big deal. The most beautiful, kind, powerful, talented, and intelligent woman he's ever had the pleasure of meeting was asking him—pleading for him to kiss her. He was totally emotionally, spiritually, and physically prepared for this to happen. He just needed to pucker his lips and lean in. Easy enough. Right?

Suddenly, a little laugh bubbled up from her, despite her obvious efforts to hide it. "'M sorry," she said between laughs. "You're just so cute. I won't bite, I promise."

He found himself giggling along with her in spite of the embarrassment. It shook him out of his daze, and he found his body capable of responding to his commands, and he lifted his hand up to the back of her neck, drawing her in.

The kiss was sweet and chaste, but he found her lips pulling back all too soon. Then they dove back in for another few seconds before once again pulling back.

It took him a moment to realize that she was smiling too much to properly kiss him back. It made him laugh, leaning back to look her in the eyes again. "I don't think this is working out very well."

"I'm sorry!" She said, trying and failing to get her smile muscles to answer to her. "I can't help it. I'm just happy! Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?"

"I didn't think you wanted to do that at all," Lucien admitted.

"Really? I thought I was so obvious about it."

In hindsight, maybe it wasn't so out of the blue. She would often find any excuse under the sun to compliment him or be near him. Several times she's sat on his lap even when other seats were available for no reason but to fluster him. And she always seemed to light up whenever he said a kind word to her.

"In my defense," he said, "you're like that with everyone."

"Okay, fair point," she nodded in agreement. At least she was self aware. "But I do like you. A lot. Not just as a friend. Well, of course we're friends. But I also like you, uh, in the... Dibellan way, if you will."

The phrasing of it sent the two of them into another fit of giggles. The whole situation was rather bizarre, but in a way, it was all too familiar. Alexandria had always had an uncanny ability to make him comfortable, and the fact that it even applied to this situation was a pleasant surprise.

"I've been wanting to tell you how I've felt for months now," he confessed. "I built it up in my mind to this terrifying thing, and I'd convinced myself it was impossible that the feeling could be mutual. Now I can't believe how easy it was."

"That's what I keep telling you!" She said. "You shouldn't ever be afraid to tell me what's on your mind."

"I'll remember that from now on," he promised. The big grin was still on her face and showed no signs of stopping, so he opted instead to lean in and give her a kiss on the little dimple just beside her lips.

It only seemed to make her even more pleased, and the smile was complemented with a pink tint in her cheeks. If something as simple as a cheek kiss could make her so happy, he couldn't wait to see what else he could do to make her light up even more.

[boymeetsweevil]

Masterlist

who says i love you first

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, 1336w Your tiny existential crisis + Namjoon during bedtime

welcome to my channel (KNJ)

Non-Idol AU, Youtuber!Reader, 659w “5k Sub! Unisex Brow Grooming Tutorial feat. Joon :)”

baby genius**

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, ~2300w “In which you’re very smart and Namjoon has a tiny garter belt fetish”

dead man sells no toes**

Witch!Reader, Halloweentown AU, ~5200w “Your thoughts have a mind of their own when it comes to the cute delivery human with the mysterious tattoos”

call me maybe*

Idol-AU (kinda), club meet-cute AU, ~6600w

At first you were just trying to get some free drinks out of some guy at the bar, but then it becomes a lot more

warm fuzzies*

Non-Idol AU, slice of life, ~6200w “In which Jjangu AND his owner, Kim Seokjin, fall for you”

welcome to my channel (KSJ)

Non-Idol AU, Youtuber!Reader, 1208w “Dyeing @Eat_Jin ‘s hair and avocado mask DIY :)))”

hell’s kitchen

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, ‘crack’, ~2200w “It’s Jin’s birthday and it’s a hot ass mess because you can’t keep a secret”

and wrapped your arms around my neck** (req)

established relationship AU, part vampire!Seokjin, pwp, ~2000w “Vamp!Jin if you squint and then close your eyes entirely, this is 90% just sex yall”

punch drunk love*

Non-Idol AU, friends to lovers, 1742w Emotional constipation means sometimes you have to beat emotions out. Or, in this case, finger-flick them out.

welcome to my channel (MYG)

Non-Idol AU, Youtuber!Reader, 626w “New M.A.C lip tints feat. my roommate :)”

the min booty diaries** (req) - 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Idol AU, body/self-esteem issues

“Join Min Yoongi on his journey to becoming an ass man OR ~5 instances in which Yoongi realized he had a serious thing for your ass”

ode to wine

Idol AU, establised relationship AU, 900w

“A moment alone with Yoongi after the award show has come and gone”

off the deep end**

Mermaid!Yoongi, College AU, interspecies canoodling, a bit angsty, ~17,500w

“Your new mermaid friend, Yoongi, helps you navigate the treacherous waters of love, sex, and National Geographic.”

bump and grind*

Idol AU, BH employee!Reader, ~3000w

“If someone told you that months after getting hired by BigHit to translate and subtitle VLive videos you would be at an idol’s birthday party with your ass pressed firmly against Jung Hoseok’s crotch, you wouldn’t have believed them.”

welcome to my channel (JHS)

Non-Idol AU, Youtuber!Reader, 1164w

“Unisex nail care routine feat. Hobi and red wine ;)”

who’s your favorite**

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, misbehaving in a Chili’s, ~1400w

“If you ask the man himself, it takes a half a year of going to a shitty family restaurant after work on Fridays for Hoseok to become your favorite. In reality, though, he just didn’t get the joke. OR

‘I give you dick. Good dick!’”

cover you in constellations

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, 987w

“Happy birthday to Jung Hoseok, the most beautiful”

hoping for the best**

Non-Idol AU, Lifeguards!Reader and Hoseok, friends to enemies to friends to lovers, ~24,300w

“He knows you two are linked though. You must know it too. It’s impossible to deny when you both reach climax at the same time during your first time, the breath leaving him like you knocked it out and your eyes rolling into the back of your head like he scratched stars there for only you to see.”

sleeping bags (and other unconventional cures for insomnia) (req)

Non-Idol AU, College AU, enemies to more than friends, ~2500w

Based off the prompt “snowed in with your enemy at a ski resort”

watch yourself**

Non-Idol AU, Dressing room Attendant!Hoseok, exhibitionist!Hoseok, ~7770w

“It starts with an invitation from your ex. It ends with Hoseok’s hands down your pants in said ex’s kitchen”

mistletoe

Non-Idol AU, friends to lovers, Christmas AU?, ~3300w

“Jimin just can’t seem to get a moment alone with you at this christmas party, and you just can’t seem to stop baking…”

welcome to my channel (PJM)

Non-Idol AU, Youtuber!Reader, 1093w

“Drugstore Haul plus mini Sephora Haul and Surprise :)”

blue, not blanc** (req)

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, pwp, ~4500w

Based off the prompt: ‘can u do a jimin smut where he has a thing for panties’

me, you, and this thing we have between us** (req)

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, pwp, ~3700w

You’re pregnant and jimin is…happy about it

slippery slopes ahead** (req)

Non-Idol AU, College AU, established relationship AU, pwp, ~6600w

“‘Look at you,’ he coos. ‘All this time I thought you were shy.’”

childhood bestie (bullet)

Non-Idol Au, Childhood Besties!Reader and Taehyung, 943w

what it would be like if you and taehyung’s moms were bffs, so you and taehyung were bffs from birth

welcome to my channel (KTH)

Non-Idol AU, Youtuber!Reader, 667w

“Using Tom Ford Luna highlighters on my neighbor ;)”

a day in the life

Non-Idol AU, College AU, Roommates!Reader and Taehyung, slice of life, ~1900w

“A typical day living with Kim Taehyung consists of constant fights for the blanket and watching him steal your crop tops”

cougar** - 1, 2

Non-Idol AU, College AU, (slightly) Older!Reader, ~1400w + ~4700w

“…guys like him give off two very conflicting vibes. The first says ‘Wow, look at this handsome young man, I hope my kids are that beautiful’. The second says, ‘Wow, I want to have his kids’”

hectic halloween

Non-Idol AU, College AU, Best friends!Reader and Taehyung, language, ~1400w

Tae invites you to a Playboy™️ themed halloween party and a wardrobe malfuction of sorts occurs.

breathe you in** (req)

Popstar!Reader, Non-Idol!Taehyung, exes to lovers, ~7800w

Based on the prompt: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!

(welcome to) camp lonely heart**

Camp Counselors!Reader and Taehyung, fun with walkie talkies, friends to lovers, ~15,600w

It’s possible to find love in all sorts of places: In bars, in school, on apps. But what about through a walkie talkie?

heat index**

Non-Idol AU, established relationship AU, pwp, 2700w

“The town being in a heat wave puts Tae’s in a bit of a love drought. But even still, he makes do and (kind of) does you”

blood of the covenant* (to be rebooted) - 1, 2

Vampire!Reader, Human!Jungkook, College AU, Post-Apocalyptic(?) AU, 3476w+ ~3700w

“You’re an unregistered vampire trying your hardest to save up enough to go to school by working long hours and giving up meals. Unfortunately, the local university refuses to enroll starving vampires like yourself because they’re seen as threats. Desperate to get in, you take up Jeon Jungkook’s shady offer to help”

welcome to my channel (JJK)

Non-Idol AU, Youtuber!Reader, 1038w

“Cutting Men’s hair and talking about life feat. Kook :)”

blind!reader* (req)

Non-Idol AU, Blind!Reader, College AU, 4422w

Based off the prompt: Hi! I have a bts request! so the "prompt" is y/n were love at first sight for him, but y/n's life motto is "love is blind" because y/n is actually blind. this is just for fun, but I'd really like to read your take on it!! you can pick any of the boys. :)

for science**

Non-Idol AU, College AU, Nerd!Jungkook, very dramatic 

“Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.”

The most magical place in hell (req)

Takes place somewhere after the events of FS, the gang goes on vacation...

bts as types of drunks

Non-Idol AU (?), the chaotic seven, 2073w

the seven chaotic drunks™️ embodied

bts as types of (weird) babies in your daycare

Pre-school teacher!Reader, Babies!BTS, 4610w

the seven chaotic babies™️ embodied

bts as types of boyfriends

Non-Idol AU (?), the chaotic seven, ~3295w

the seven chaotic boyfriends™️ embodied

sweetstupid moments with bts

Non-Idol AU (?), the chaotic seven, ~2054w

More boyfriend shenanigans

sleepovers with sleepy bts

Non-Idol AU (?), the chaotic seven, ~2109w

Even more boyfriend shenanigans

SS series (under construction)

* = suggestive, ~nsfw ** = smut, NSFW (req) = requested

and then there were two** (req)

Non-Idol AU, College AU, established relationship AU, ~3480w

Based on the prompt: “what do u think abt college bf mark and awkward and fumbling first time”

Sequel: and then there were finals**(req), 2k

Based on the prompt: “mark lee from nct! college au and NSFW. finding time in between studying for finals.”

in your court (req)

Non-Idol AU, College AU, clueless crushes and matchmaking, ~10,900w

Based on the prompt: “what about ,, bff!haechan trying to set taeil and his awkward ass up with oc Or awkward!oc with his basketball teammate jaehyun. Honestly anything with bff!haechan.”

binary stars (req)

Non-Idol AU, College AU, friends to lovers, ~8,400w

love sometimes takes the form of gravity

Based on the prompt: “bff!hyuck + friends to lovers. college au and slightly nsfw or however nsfw u wanna make it”

the shape you make**

Non-Idol AU, Halloweentown AU, ~4,100w

“For both you and Johnny, there is something big holding you back from being intimate. At the yearly Harvest party, that something big becomes something known.”

Part of the Intimacy Anthology Project!

* = suggestive, ~nsfw ** = smut, NSFW (req) = requested

[xhollandbabex]

“I’ve got you”

Warnings: smut (18+), mob!tom x fem shy reader, cursing, badly written.

Please send in requests this is my first smut so don’t hate me pls.

(Gif not mine)

READERS POV

“Ugh” I said as I threw my bag down on the couch the minute I stepped through the front door. I had just gotten home from a meeting at work that I didn’t really want to go to anyways. I decompressed my body by stretching out my arms and letting my head sink low to stretch out my neck.

“No, I told you, that’s not the fucking deal. I’ve had enough Dante....No.”

I heard Tom on the phone as he paced through the hallway back towards me.

Tom and I had just began dating and we hadn’t really done anything sexual yet but I really wanted to, all the time. You see him? Yeah, I’m ready to jump his bones ;) every 12 seconds.

I knew he was in a shady business but I didn’t really care about that as long as he was safe.

“Okay, I got it.” He huffed as he hung up. His eyes instantly met mine and he shuffled towards me.

“I’m sorry darlin, I didn’t mean for you to hear that” his arms wrapped around me “How was your day?” He questioned. His cologne surrounded us and my mind relaxed from such a stressful day.

“I-uh, it was fine” I said as I looked up with a half smile. He kissed me on the nose and asked “are you sure?”

It was weird how this man could go from all pissed off baddie to a lovey lil bitch every time he saw me.

“Yeah, I just didn’t wanna go today” I shared. God the way his long sleeve black button up curved to his muscles made my core throb.

He sat down on the couch and patted his lap. “Come here and tell me about it.”

“-are, are you sure?”

Again me and Tom were a fairly new thing not to add that I’m terribly shy with him.

“You’ll be alright darling, I’ve got you.” As he pulled me down on his lap and held me close. I was tense at first but when my eyes met his I melted further in love with him.

“So tell me, who made your day bad?” He stated as he clenched his jaw at the thought of someone being a hinderance to you. He was always so protective.

As I was straddling his lap I realized a sudden wetness that made me blush, but I quickly spoke so he wouldn’t notice.

“It wasn’t- it’s not really a person that made it bad it’s just I didn’t really wanna be a person today” I nervously chuckled.

His hands were dangerously close to my ass and I wanted nothing more than to move his hands for him and attack his neck with my lips.

But we’ve never had sex before, what if he isn’t ready and I make it awkward?

As my mind was rushing he put his lips on mine for a quick peck and said “I’m sorry your day was bad, anything I can do?” He rubbed up and down my sides which made my face erupt in fire.

“You could- you could uhh”

I wanted to be ballsy but of course I had to talk myself out of it. But I was in too deep now.

“What is it?” He questioned putting his face closer to mine.

“Are you blushing?” He asked which only made me blush harder. He realized what I was asking and he snaked his head to the side of my neck and gave me a peck there and then whispered dangerously close to my ear “what do you need darling?”

His voice low and sexy, I wanted to tell him to rail me but I couldn’t bring myself to it.

“Can you- can you touch me?”

“Where would you like me to touch you?” He said still close to my ear.

“Anywhere” I finally breath out and his hands immediately grab my ass and his lips attack my neck.

I sigh in relief as my hands grab his brown locks. His lips explore my neck for a bit but once he found my sweet spot I tugged on his hair a bit and moaned.

His hands working my ass and thighs as his lips were on me was heaven in of itself.

“Like this?” He said continuing to suck purple marks on my neck.

I paused for a minute to think about what I should say.

He leaned back to look me in the eyes, I immediately blushed. “You don’t have to be shy darling, I love you. Let me make you feel good. Is that okay?”

I nodded quickly with a smile knowing this man is the man for me. I looked in his eyes as I grabbed the top button of his shirt. He nodded in agreement that I could take it off and I started to unbutton. He was rubbing up and down my thighs as I worked on each button and once I got his shirt open I felt myself almost dripping.

I slid my hand down his chest as I went back in for a kiss and this time it was different. He wanted to take his time with me. He wasn’t just hungry for sex, he really wanted to make me feel comfortable.

My hand traveled down to his abs and I moaned involuntarily. I knew he was ripped and I had seen him before but something about touching his body right now made me want him so much more.

He continued to kiss me as he all of a sudden flipped us over. He laid me on my back as he slipped the rest of his shirt off. He then tugged at the bottom of my top and looked at me for permission.

“Please,” I said just ready for him to fill me up. He peeled my shirt off and kissed me again. He then looked at me for permission again suggesting that I take off my bra. I lean up and start to take it off as he leans up and takes off his belt.

Once my breasts were exposed I realized how hard my nipples were. He immediately put his face in the valley and started to kiss and suck wherever he could. He was so hungry to have me and I was so ready to be his.

He finally wrapped his lips around my left nipple and I let out a pornographic moan. My hand flew to his hair as he sucked and licked on the sensitive bud.

He gave just the same amount of love to the other. I moved my leg up and my thigh grazed against his buldge. He came back up to kiss me as my hands roamed all over his back and shoulders and hair.

I love every part of him.

I then got a little cocky ;) and reached my hand down and palmed his bulge through his pants.

He looked up at me in shock, but his expression soon turned to pleasure. I kissed him again passionately.

“Oh fuck this, I need you” he scooted down to pull off my skirt and panties in one go. He kissed my hip before he spread my legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he ran his fingers along my folds. A huff escaped my lips as I wanted him inside me. “God you’re so wet..can’t wait to get inside you”

He slipped two fingers inside me. I moaned as he worked me perfectly. His fingers curled at just the right spot and his thumb slowly worked my clit. My face got hot and the knot in my stomach grew bigger and bigger.

“You close?”

I nodded in response

“Use your words darling”

At this point I didn’t care I just wanted to feel close to him. “Fuck, tommy I’m close. Mmph I’m really fucking close” I almost screamed

“Let go darling I’ve got you” he said as he leaned up to kiss my forehead.

And with that my body let go. My hands gripped bis bicep and the couch cushion. My back arched and my eyes screwed shut as I released all over his hand.

I tried to slowly catch my breath with my eyes still closed. When I open my eyes he is inbetween my legs with just his boxer briefs on.

He leaned down to kiss me, he caressed the side of my face “are you alright?”

I smiled at him and sighed “of course I am”

“Can you still take me?”

I nodded as I looked down at his now very apparent boner. I didn’t know how big he was, I had an idea but I didn’t really know how perfect he was until he pulled his undies down and his cock sprang out.

He pulled at himself a few times before he lined up with my entrance.

“Is this alright? We don’t have to if you don’t want to”

“Please fuck me” I said as I looked him in the eyes

“Oh fuck” he muttered as he pushed himself in

He was stretching me out so good but it was a bit painful because of how big he was.

“Move, p-please.”

He slowly moved in and out and that pain turned into incredible pleasure. He leaned down and kissed me to try and muffle his moans.

He stopped kissing me to look down and watch him slide in and out. His grunts were so sexy that I wrapped my arms around his neck and scratched at his back when he picked up his pace.

He leaned up to look at me and what he was doing.

The familiar knot started to form again as I saw him in all of his glory.

Him naked, glistening with sweat, hair stuck to his forehead, face flushed, and him thrusting in and out of me, and his concentrated face on what he’s doing.

He kept going and my knot started to unravel.

“I’m-im close”

“Me too baby, come with me.”

He leaned down again in missionary just to kiss me and I’m pretty sure he wanted to hold me as I came.

The knot finally came undone and my back arched as he grunted right in my ear. I felt his cock twitch as he filled me up. He slowed down to help me ride out my high.

He flopped down next to me.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, Wow” I responded.

“Are you okay?”

“Tommy, I’m absolutely perfect right now. Thank you.”

I kissed him again as he wrapped his arms around me.

I was weirdly comfortable being naked in front of him.

“I love you.”

“I love you more tommy”

[nbrook29]

11 goofy kiss pls<33

4, 7 for Sobbe omg👀💫👀💫 your talent kgnfjfnlfkf ...

Can you do 15 or 20? Or both for sobbe

Sooo this isn't really on the list of prompts but maybe you could write something about Robbe being totally obsessed with Sander's pouty bottom lip - whenever he sees it he has to pounce on it and kisses/bites/touches/pulls on it. Sander is either turned into a wreck or he teasingly indulges Robbe's obsession 

Hi! :)

based on But do you REALLY want the K?

Goofy kiss + Eyelid kiss + Distract kiss + Shut up kiss + Asker’s Choice

In hindsight, Robbe should have seen it coming.

When his school announced that they had received funding to organize free 6-month workshops for their students and local college students after hours, it got his interest right away. Especially when it turned out that the offered courses focused on more niche subjects.

Robbe has always felt some inexplicable fascination with Scandi culture, Norwegian in particular. In fact, ever since he discovered the multiverse theory he’s been half-convinced there must be a Norwegian version of him existing somewhere out there, which would explain this unusual interest of his. 

So when he was scanning the list of available courses and his eyes caught Norwegian 101, his heart beat a little faster and he giddily signed up right away.

And then Sander signed up too, claiming that a) if there’s a Norwegian version of Robbe there must be a Norwegian version of Sander too, thank you very much, so it is his duty to learn a little bit of his alter ego’s language, and b) it’s going to be a perfect opportunity for them to make up for the fact that they didn’t experience being in high school together. He’s always all pouty when he talks about it, mourning all those lost opportunities of them making out against a window sill in biology classroom or having secret meetings in the bathroom during class and demands compensation in the form of extra long makeout sessions in Robbe’s bed. 

Robbe doesn’t exactly mind, neither the joint classes nor kissing the pout away, which always effectively shuts him up. Quite the contrary actually. Ever since Sander texted him a screenshot of the participants list with DRIESEN SANDER under D, he’s been all hyped up at the prospect of the two of them studying together. 

His friends don’t exactly understand why he’s willing to spend his free time in their school building but at least Yasmina shows interest in the workshops as well, signing up for a few, Norwegian included.

He and Sander are the first ones to arrive to the Monday session, and when Sander notices that the classroom is still empty he wiggles his eyebrows grinning at Robbe cheekily, spins him around in a swift move and pins him to the window sill, his hands going around his thighs to make him sit down on it. 

“Is this everything you dreamed about and more?” Robbe chuckles at the delighted look on Sander’s face, legs snaking around his waist to hold him tighter.

“Yes, I got you right where I want you,” he replies smugly and doesn’t wait another second before pressing a tiny kiss to his lips, then another one, and another, until Robbe makes a soft noise of protest making Sander finally give in and kiss him properly, dipping his tongue past his lips in no time. Robbe lets one of his hands slip down, making his path down his back over the black denim jacket, stopping barely above Sander’s belt, and then without second-guessing himself goes down even lower to give his butt a firm squeeze, because it’s just so... deliciously squeezable.

They only break apart when they hear someone clearing their throat and when Robbe catches the sight of Yasmina regarding them with amusement, he quickly disentangles himself from Sander, wiping at his mouth with poorly hidden embarrassment. Sander is unfazed, as always, turning around with a swagger and shooting Yasmina one of his most charming smiles. She’s not a sucker for it though, contrary to Robbe, so she just fondly rolls her eyes shaking her head at their antics.

The classroom starts to fill in quickly after and before they realize the only empty seats left are placed in the back. Only Yasmina manages to snatch herself one closer to the front. Sander graciously allows Robbe to take the only unoccupied spot in the sixth row and he himself marches over to row eight.

The first hour and a half flies by and Robbe is having more fun than he anticipated. The teacher, Vilde, is young, she’s quirky in that positive way and her approach to the subject differs from what Robbe is used to during his regular classes. 

He takes notes diligently and tries to participate as much as possible but he struggles with pronunciation when asked for reading a few words out loud. When Vilde asks Sander to read them, he does it with flying colors, the jerk, and the girl is so impressed that she calls him a natural, praising his perfect pronunciation of “engelsk” and “kjole” while smiling a bit too much and too wide at him. In Robbe’s humble opinion. 

Once she goes back to writing on the board, he turns around to see Sander giving him a shit-eating grin so he does the only right thing in this situation and sticks his tongue out at him.

They are two hours in when Robbe gets hit in the ear with a small paper ball which then lands perfectly in the middle of his notebook. He throws a glance at the obvious suspect but Sander seems to be deep into copying the grammar rules from the board to his MacBook. 

His elegant handwriting gives him away though.

Du er digg 🖤

Vilde mentioned that last word just five minutes ago, more as a fun fact than anything else but of course Sander caught and remembered it.

He’s fighting against the beaming smile that threatens to take over his face because he doesn’t want to look like a lunatic to everybody around. Sander isn’t bothered by things like that though so when Robbe looks at him again he’s resting his chin on his hand, staring at him unabashedly with a grin of his own as he notices the flush on Robbe’s cheeks.  

He tells him as quietly as he can to quit distracting him to which Sander raises his arms in surrender and with a feigned-serious expression busies himself with the given exercise. If Robbe then tucks the note into the back of his notebook no one needs to know.

Not even a full five minutes pass when another paper ball lands on his desk. Robbe heaves a long-suffering sigh and raises his eyes to the heavens because yes, now he has to deal with a rebel of a boyfriend.

When he straightens out the note, he snorts.

Do you like me? 

Circle YES or NO

🖤

Seems like Sander is having lots of fun acting out this high school romance fantasy. 

He decides to indulge him and reaches for a red ink pen to circle YES. Then, he adds a bunch of crooked hearts (because he’s not the artist in this relationship) on a whim. Once he makes sure Vilde isn’t looking in their direction, he throws the note back to Sander, but not without catching the disapproving look from Yasmina who rolls her eyes so hard Robbe is surprised they aren’t stuck. He just shrugs at her without remorse. 

Sander opens the paper ball as delighted as a child opening their Christmas gift and when he sees the answer he pretends to swoon in his chair, blowing him a long kiss from above his notes.

“Sander, I think you should be paying attention.” Vilde’s reproach pulls Robbe from gazing at his boyfriend like a love-struck puppy and he immediately shoots him a cheeky grin because it’s just really satisfying to watch him being scolded by a teacher.  

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” Sander clears his throat as he straightens on his chair before he glances at his laptop and adds with a smirk, “Or, rather, Du har rett, Vilde.”

Then he winks at her and his confident demeanor clearly succeeds to appease her because she starts to wax lyrical about his oh so amazing pronunciation again.

Ugh. What a show off.

Though, Robbe has to admit that it sounds kinda hot when he speaks Norwegian but it’s not like he’s going to go and tell him that. Instead, he reaches for his phone to shoot him a quick text.

R: You’re such a teacher’s pet oh my god

R: Also stop flirting with her, she’s seconds away from swooning 

S: Are we jealous?

R: Yes, very, I’m worried you’re gonna run away to norway with her and have viking children together 🤭

S: 😘

There is no bell signaling the end of the class but at 17:15 Vilde thanks them for today’s lesson and everybody starts to pack and gradually leave. Robbe is shoving his stuff into his backpack when he feels fingers in his hair pulling his head back without real force to angle it better. Then, Sander places a big loud smooch on his lips making him giggle and swipe at him lightly.

“You’re such a dork.”

He reaches to put the strands hanging over his forehead back in their place, scratching at his scalp a little and when Sander leans into the touch, closing his eyes with a pleased purr, he stands on his tiptoes and presses a tiny kiss to his left eyelid, which earns him one of Sander’s sweetest smiles. 

Once his bag is packed, they leave the classroom with their index fingers entwined, swaying their hands a little as they walk. “So, did you like that class?” 

Sander nods. “Yeah, it was cool. You?”

“You know, I thought those three hours are gonna be a bitch but it was actually pretty fucking nice.”

Sander pushes his tongue in his cheek, wiggling his eyebrows at him. “And did you like my notes?”

Robbe pretends to scrunch up his face, trying not to laugh at Sander’s offended huff. “Hey! Well, okay then, if you’re like that I’m not gonna send you any next time.”

He juts out his bottom lip and honestly, it’s Robbe’s kryptonite, and he’s long made peace with a fact that he’s weirdly obsessed with it; it’s just so plush and enticing and he has spent hours upon hours kissing and biting it, the fact that it made Sander go weak in the knees for him an additional bonus.

So Robbe uses it against him to distract him from pouting, and this time it’s him who pushes Sander against the wall close to the school exit. He pulls their bodies together, delighted at the surprised hitch in Sander’s breath when he sticks out his tongue to drag it along his bottom lip, pulling it with his teeth to nip it a little, to then soothe the sting with his tongue again. He can feel his ministrations are starting to work and with each second Sander is turning into a pile of goo in his arms. 

A voice in the back of his head tells him the school corridor is probably not the best place for this so he eventually pulls back and drags him away from the wall to the school yard. Sander follows him but not without half-hearted protests that stop only when Robbe kisses him hard to shut him up in the middle of the school yard.

“Come on, there’s a bed in my room with our names on it and my mom works until 20 tonight.”

“Is there a shower with our names on it too?”

“If you’re good,” Robbe pretends to think about it, “then I guess that can be arranged.”