#sorry its late and all i can think about is angst

[keikikait]

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

based on a request by @milesdrift

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 10.5k

summary: you reconnect with an old friend while seeking quiet refuge from the midsummers party

warnings: longtime friends to lovers, kook!reader & kook!rafe, emotional rafe comes out for like 2 seconds, drunk rafe, light-medium angst, soft rafe, fluff?, talk of anxiety, topper is a bitch, blackmail is mentioned but it's not actually done, not proofread

a note: ik its long i don't wanna talk about it

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Although you and Rafe had grown up together, you weren’t the best of friends anymore.

Your father and Rafe’s father, Ward, were business partners. Your father handled the financial side of everything, while Ward was the face of it all. You had spent countless dinners at his house, spent more summer nights than you can remember in his backyard, helping your dad grill. You were a fellow Kook, and while your house wasn’t as extravagant as Tannyhill, you still grew up in Figure 8 with the rest of them. 

You and Rafe were close at one point, spending some of your elementary years closer than ever before. You spent every waking second together, but everything changed when you both went to middle school; he started getting angrier, louder, and soon just completely ditched you for his new friends Topper and Kelce. You spent so much time watching him from the sidelines, and you spent a few years crushing on him, admiring him from afar and just wondering what it would be like to be his. It wasn’t until you went to Kildare Academy alongside him, Topper, and Kelce, that you realised he would never feel the same way. After all, you weren’t exactly a close friend of his anymore.

At least, you thought you weren’t. It wasn’t long after hearing of Ward’s death that Rafe was on your doorstep, drunk out of his mind and soaked to the bone from the rain. It was late, almost 11 PM, and you had let him in, giving him a towel and some of your older brother’s old clothes to borrow for the night. He wouldn’t mind anyway, he was engaged and living in Raleigh with his fiancée, doing something in IT and tech. Rafe eagerly accepted the clothes, although you had to help him change, trying your hardest to keep your eyes and hands from wandering while you helped him out of his old wet clothes.

The dryer hums from down the hall as it runs, tossing his clothes around. Rafe lies on your bed, his legs hanging off the end, his feet flat on the ground. You sit next to him, water bottle in hand, watching him. He has his arm thrown over his eyes, blocking out the soft light of your bedside table lamp.

You swallow, moving a little closer to him. “You okay?”

“Mm.” He grunts in response, still keeping his eyes covered. He didn’t smell the best, the smell of weed and hard liquor practically wafted off of his soaked form. The alcohol, though, seemed to be the main thing that took its toll on him. He was a mess of a man as it was, but when he drowned himself in alcohol like this, you weren’t even sure that it was Rafe in the room with you anymore.

“I heard what happened, I um…” You hesitate, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, Rafe.”

“Don’t,” He says, raising his arm from his face just enough to glare at you through the crack in his arm. “Don’t you dare pity me.”

“I’m not pitying you,” You say. “I really am sorry, Rafe.”

“Yeah, you seem real sorry,” He huffs, dropping his arm back in place, blocking out the light again. “Sitting there, staring at me with your big doe eyes.”

Your face gets warm, and you bite back a smile. “I let you in, didn’t I? I could’ve kicked you to the curb. But I didn’t.”

“Mm, you’re such a saint, you know that?” He grumbles, although this time he did let out a bit of a chuckle. He drops his hand down onto his chest, resting it just above his heart as he tilts his head towards you.

You lay down next to him, your shoulders touching, your legs dangling next to his. Your voice is soft when you speak, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He turns his head towards you, his body following suit, rolling to his side, so his whole body faced you now. He stays quiet for a moment, just looking at you, before shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “What is there to talk about?” He grumbles again. “He got shot and fell off that stupid fucking cliff. Now there’s a big, father-shaped hole in my life now. End of story.”

“Did he ever even fill that hole?” You ask quietly. You immediately regret your words, but it seems like Rafe doesn’t even care.

“I… no. No, not really,” He admits, swallowing around a knot in his throat. “But it’s a hole I was counting on… one day filling. And now there’s no chance for that.” He rolls onto his back again and covers his face with his hands. After a few seconds, you hear his breathing get heavier as his shoulders shake up and down.

He’s crying.

You roll over to face him, wrapping one arm across his chest and over his shoulder. “No, hey come on, it’s okay.”

Rafe doesn’t fight your hold, and he shifts onto his side in front of you, facing you as you pull him into your embrace. He buries his face into your shoulder, his hands grabbing at your sides, holding onto you tightly as he begins to sob.

You rub his back with one hand, the other cupping the back of his head. “It’s okay, Rafe. It’ll be okay.”

His whole body shakes against yours as he cries, his fingers grabbing and clinging tightly onto your sides, like you were the only thing keeping him together. Rafe’s nose presses into the crook of your neck, his warm, shaky breaths ghosting against your skin as he cries against your shoulder. His voice is so soft you almost didn’t hear him. “I want my dad.”

Your heart shatters, and you pull him closer, fighting back tears of your own. “I know, Rafe. I know. I’m sorry.”

His arms wrap around your back, enveloping you in his arms, and his legs hook around one of yours, pulling you in closer to him, as if he’s hoping that if he holds you tightly enough he would be able to hold himself together. For a few long moments, he falls silent, the only sound being the faintest hitch in his breathing every couple of moments. Eventually, Rafe speaks again, his voice muffled against your neck. “I really messed up.”

“No, you didn’t.” You say, tightening your grip on him. 

“Yes, I did,” He whispers, nuzzling himself further against you. You can feel one of his hands trail up your back, his fingers tangling into your hair. It almost seems like he’s trying to melt himself into you. “Everything I’ve ever done… everything I’ve ever said… I did so many things just to try and-and make him proud of me. Everything I did was never enough to make him see me the way I wanted him to. But I still kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing. For what? For nothing. For absolutely nothing,” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I wanna know it’s not my fault. I didn’t mean it.”

Your eyes well with tears, and you quickly wipe them away. “It’s not your fault, Rafe. You didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t push him. It’s not your fault.”

His fingers tighten in your hair as his lips drag against your neck, leaving a damp trail across your skin. “I could’ve been a better-a better son,” He whispers against your neck. “I-I could’ve tried harder, I could’ve been better. I-” He chokes back another wave of tears, his whole body trembling in your grip. “He was never proud of me.”

“You don’t know that,” You whisper. “He always talked to my dad about you. My dad said you were all Ward talked about. Not Sarah or Wheezie. You.”

“That doesn’t mean he was proud of me.” Rafe mumbles. His hand that has been gripping your side released its hold on your shirt, his fingertips trailing up your side as he shifts ever so slightly in front of you. His fingers brush against the edge of your shirt, slipping under the baggy fabric and settling against your bare skin. His palm presses flat against your side, holding you, fingers spreading out over your skin.

“You don’t know that he wasn’t.” You say.

He slowly lifts his face from your neck, his fingers gliding along the curve of your side as he pulls away. Rafe swallows hard, his eyes fixed on you. He looks like a mess; his eyes red and puffy from crying, his face red and patchy from wiping his tears away. His eyes flicker down to your throat, and he pauses for a moment, his lips slightly parted as he studies your skin. When he finally speaks again, his voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “I feel sick.”

“Do you need to vomit?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” He croaks, his hand still lingering against your side, his fingers gently brushing back and forth across your skin. Something in his eyes seems a bit… off. Normally, he was loud, and cocky, a bit obnoxious at times, but still somehow charming. Right now, though, he seemed… vulnerable. Broken down. He was exposed in ways that you didn’t even know he could be. You hadn’t ever realised how blue his eyes were before now.

“Come on, honey,” The nickname slips out without much thought as you help him sit up. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

He doesn’t have it in him to protest your help, and he lets you ease him up and guide him to his feet. He kept one hand around your torso, his other wrapping around your shoulder as he lets you guide him towards your bathroom, practically stumbling behind you as he tried to walk. His grip on you stayed steady, fingers pressing into your side and digging into your skin.

You push open the door to the en-suite bathroom, helping Rafe kneel down by the toilet. “If you need to vomit, just do it. Don’t hold it in, okay?”

He swallows, still stumbling slightly as he knelt there in front of the toilet. “Okay.” He croaks. A few moments pass, and then suddenly Rafe’s whole body tenses up, and he lurches forward at the waist, leaning over the toilet. He gags, the first few being dry gags and coughs, before, after another heave, Rafe lets loose the rest of his stomach contents into the toilet, throwing up everything in his stomach.

You look away, rubbing his back. “There you go. Better out than in.”

He stays hunched over the toilet bowl for several long minutes, coughing and dry heaving. It finally passed, but he still knelt there, heaving and gagging. “I-“ He started hoarsely, a trail of spit dripping out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes still red and puffy. His shoulders shook once, and you could’ve sworn it was another heave, but when he finally spoke again you nearly choked at the sound of how wrecked his voice was. “I need a drink…”

You let out a small chuckle, grabbing some toilet paper and wiping his mouth. “You’re drinking water only.”

He lets you wipe his mouth, and he watches you through tired, bleary eyes. “I-“ He tries to protest, before his face turns a little green again. He grumbles, then sighs, mumbling against your touch. “No booze?”

“No booze.” You say.

“Okay, okay, fine.” He mumbles, sighing again as his shoulders drop in defeat. “No booze, then. Just… I need something. I need to- I need to-” He pauses halfway through his sentence, swallowing hard as he suddenly leans forward at the waist again, hovering over the toilet. He gags again, a thin trail of spit connecting his lip to the rim of the bowl, before he leans back again, gasping and panting.

You look away, quickly rushing back to your bed to grab the water bottle. You head back into the bathroom, rubbing his back as he pukes again. “There we go.”

He heaves and coughs for several more moments before finally collapsing back against your touch, sagging into your hand on his back. His head falls forward, his face against his shoulder, forehead pressed against his arm as it rests against his knee. He looks and sounds like a wreck, his whole body trembling in front of you. He’s a mess. A complete, utter, heartbreaking mess. 

His voice comes up, hoarse and ragged. “You… you called me honey.”

“I did.” You say, wiping his mouth again. You uncap the water and pour some into his mouth. 

He doesn’t argue, his mouth parting readily when you hold the bottle to his lips. He closes his eyes as a few mouthfuls of cool water washes away the taste of vomit, and a soft groan escapes his throat when you pull the water away. When his eyes finally open again, his gaze shifts back to you, and that same look is still in his eyes. The same lost, brokenness that made your chest ache for him.

You hand him the bottle. “Do you wanna stay here tonight?”

Rafe stares down at the bottle, his hand coming up to wrap shakily around it. His fingers linger against yours a moment longer than needed, touching your fingertips for a brief second before withdrawing, his fingers sliding down the cold plastic of the water bottle. After a long moment of silence, he finally speaks, his voice hoarse and raw from the vomiting. “… Yes. Please.” He whispers.

“Come on,” You say softly, helping him to his feet. “There’s a guest room down the hall.”

He lets you pull him to his feet, stumbling to his feet without much resistance. He was clearly exhausted and worn out from vomiting, but even so, when you tried to remove your hold from him, he protested. His fingers wrapped around your wrists loosely, his gaze fixed on you, as if he was practically begging you not to let him go. “No,” He whines. “I… I need to be with you. I can’t be alone right now.”

“Okay,” You say softly, slipping your hands into his. “You can stay with me.”

He lets out a soft sigh, the tension leaving his shoulders as your fingers slide into his. His fingers intertwine with yours, and his thumb brushes against the back of your hand. Although he seemed like he wanted to say something to you - his lips parted, and his gaze dropped to watch your fingers, he seems to change his mind at the last second, and simply squeezes on your hand. After a beat, he gives your hand a tug, gently pulling you towards your bed.

You climb in next to him, already in your pyjamas from earlier in the night. You give him an extra pillow, letting him get comfortable. He lets out a sigh, pulling his knees up towards his chest a bit as he turns his head to face you. One arm slips between the pillow and his head, propping it up slightly, while the other finds its way to your side, resting there on the other side of your body. “Rafe?” You ask, your voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you come here?” You ask. “I'm not, like, upset, but... we aren't very close anymore, you know?”

To answer that question, Rafe reaches his hand that’s on your side up a bit, his fingers trailing up your shirt and settling on your stomach, his palm laying flat against the soft skin of your stomach. His fingers trace soft lines back and forth against your abdomen absently, like he was trying to soothe himself just by touching you. “Because I need someone right now,” He replies after a long moment of silence. “And… you’re the only one that I’ve never been scared to tell I was hurting. Top and Kel… they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t comfort me, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” You say softly. “I’m glad you came back to me.”

“Thanks for letting me in.” He mumbles in response, his fingers still tracing lines over your stomach. It was something that he must’ve unconsciously started to do once he laid his hand against you, but it still sent shivers down your spine when you felt his gentle touch on your skin. 

You pull him into a hug, your voice still soft. “Get some sleep, Rafe.”

Rafe doesn’t protest this time as you tug him into a hug. His arm tightens around your back, and he squeezes a bit in your embrace, drawing himself in a bit closer. He lets out a soft sigh, his face pressing into your neck, and his body finally slumps against you. “Goodnight.” He mumbles against your skin.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

You don’t remember the last time you journaled. 

The morning after, Rafe left in a rush, leaving only a pile of your brother’s clothes in his wake. You spent a little too long staring at the ceiling, the feelings you felt for him so long ago coming back to rear its ugly head. You flipped over, pulling the drawer open and digging around in your bedside table, pulling out the leather-bound journal and a ballpoint pen.

You let your stream of consciousness out, filling out pages and pages about your night with Rafe and your conflicted feelings. You don’t date the entry, quickly shoving it back into your bedside table for another day. You spend the rest of your day stuck in limbo, wondering, thinking about your next interaction with Rafe. What would he say? Would he even acknowledge you? Did Topper and Kelce know about your night together?

You didn’t want this to control you as it used to; spending hours awake at night, wanting and praying that Rafe would see you in the same way you saw him. Praying that Rafe liked you, not whatever Kook girl caught his eye that night. You didn’t want to pine for him anymore, wandering behind him through the desert, hoping he’ll lead you to an oasis. You always wanted him when you were finally fine. You kept journaling, though, filling pages upon pages with your thoughts, whether Rafe was even in them or not. You decided to push him aside, to only speak to him if he spoke to you first. Out of sight, out of mind. And it worked. You didn’t think about him for weeks, even when you would see him at the corner store or at the gas station. He didn’t approach you, so you didn’t approach him.

You had managed to move on again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It was taunting you on your calendar. The Midsummers Party.

You hated it every year. It was one of the town events that gave you the most anxiety. You hated the crowds, the loud music, and the aura that surrounded you; your fellow Kooks thinking that they were better than the people on the south side of Kildare just because their mommy and daddy had more money. You were supposed to hate the Pogues, it was supposed to be ingrained in your DNA, but you didn’t. Why would you just hate someone purely because they didn’t have as much money as you? You were grateful for your life, grateful for the life that your father and mother built for you and your brother. You didn’t want to take it for granted like some of your fellow Kooks did.

Your dress was simple; a flowy, pink, low cut linen midi dress with thin straps, a $35 steal you got from a thrift store on the mainland. You hunted through your closet for your old sandals, putting them on before checking your outfit in the mirror again. You looked cute, which was the most important part. You would spend the entire time sitting in the corner alone anyway, trying to get yourself to relax. You grab your bag and your keys off of your bed, and you’re a few steps out the door when you get a nagging feeling. You sigh, looking back into your bedroom, fingers tapping on the door frame as you start to contemplate.

The journal and the pen join the belongings in your bag before you leave, shutting and locking the door behind you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

The Island Club is already lively when you arrive, giving your key to one of the valets. You slip him a large tip before heading inside the country club. The country club is abuzz as you take a step inside, music thumping throughout the house as you pass through the massive front room and make your way towards the outdoor seating. Pogues and Kooks alike mill about, chatting amongst themselves and laughing heartily as they make their way indoors and out. The whole club smells like food, and smoke wafts through the air from the various barbecues that are going on throughout the outdoor patio area.

You were already overwhelmed. The chatter is nearly deafening in your ears, the various sounds of people talking and music blaring from speakers filling your head. You feel like you can’t breathe. You don’t want to be here, stuck in this country club full of people. Everyone here is loud and drunk and happy. 

And you’re drowning in the sea of it all.

Across the country club, leaning against the bar, is Rafe. Midsummers was always fun for him. Loud music, endless drinks and even more pretty Kooks, all there to celebrate one of the most exclusive events on the island. As the sun set, the dance floor was filled with couples, dancing against one another and getting drunk on endless bottles of rum. He stood around a group of his friends, drinking and talking with a smile on his face. His gaze was always drifting out to the sea of Kooks and Pogues before him, but it lingered every so often when a pretty girl passed.

The bar was packed with people, all clamouring and fighting to try and get a drink before the entire bar was empty and the Pogues would end up stuck drinking piss beer from kegs out on the patio. You push your way through the crowd to the bar, squeezing yourself up next to a couple other people and waiting your turn to actually get the attention of one of the bartenders. You fumble with your wallet and get your ID out, managing to order a tequila sunrise; your go-to drink for a fancy, Kook heavy event, something sweet to mask the hard liquor inside but still strong enough to distract you from your impeding thoughts. You grip the edge of the bar tightly, closing your eyes as you take one more deep breath, trying to block out the noisy chaos around you. Just a few drinks and then you can escape to the beach and hope no one will find you.

You look around and meet Rafe’s gaze from the other side of the bar. He’s been watching you since the moment you entered the country club. He flashes you a small smirk, his eyes lingering on you as people bustle and push around you, filling up the bar and blocking him out from you. He watches you for another moment, his body still slouched against the bar, talking to the people around him, before he finally pushes himself up, and starts to weave through the crowd towards you instead.

You grab your drink, handing the bartender a cash tip before turning around, meeting Rafe face to face. “Uh, hey.”

“Hey,” He replies with a charming smile, taking a step closer to you, standing just a bit closer than was strictly necessary. “Fancy seeing you here,” He muses, raising his beer to his lips and taking a sip. “Thought you hated Midsummers.”

“I do, but uh…” You sigh. “My parents want me to be here, so…”

“Right,” Rafe sighs softly, taking another drink of his beer. His eyes flick up and down your form as he does, the corner of his lips twisting up in a slight smirk. “Well, I’m glad I get the privilege of seeing you all dressed up, then.”

You feel your face grow warm. “Yeah, I guess.”

He chuckles at how awkward you are, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment before flicking back down to your body. “You look nice, by the way.” He compliments. It was genuine enough, his gaze lingering over your curves and the low neckline of your dress, before they flick back up to your face.

“Thanks,” You say. “You do too.”

That little compliment sends a jolt through Rafe's chest, and he tries to keep his face as neutral as possible so that you don’t see. He doesn’t get compliments like that often - not genuine ones, anyway. He smiles to himself, his face softening a bit before he catches himself. “Yeah, well, I gotta look good, you know?” He replies, giving you a wink before taking another swig of his beer.

“Yeah, uh…” You look behind him and immediately make eye contact with Topper, who doesn’t advert his eyes. You look away, stirring your drink with the straw. “Well, I won’t keep you. Have fun, alright?” You walk away before Rafe can respond, pushing through the crowd to find a seat.

He lets out a sigh, watching you disappear into the crowd, before pushing himself away from the bar, and returning to the group he was with. Topper and Kelce both look his direction as he comes up to them.

“What was that about?” Kelce asks, raising a brow. 

Rafe shrugs, bringing the beer bottle to his lips. “I’ll catch up with her later.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

You try to enjoy Midsummers. You really do.

You drink your tequila sunrise rather quickly, hoping the warmth of the alcohol with calm your nerves, but it does the opposite. It’s overwhelming - the lights, the music, the people. Every once in a while a hand will grab your ass, or brush against your side as it reaches past you, and it’s all slowly becoming suffocating. Your heart pounding in your ears drowns out the shitty house music, and you feel nauseous as you make your way through the crowd, trying to find the exit to the patio. 

Your escape into the patio doesn’t seem to do much, though. The patio is just as full as the house, people sitting in the outdoor seating to eat and talk while others dance. A bonfire burns in the corner, and a few small groups stand about it, talking and drinking and laughing. You take a deep breath, feeling the cool sea air on your skin as you make your way through the patio, heading towards the beach entrance. You had to get away, your skin already starting to itch with discomfort.

You finally make it to the beach entrance, the sounds of the party in the country club fading slightly as you take in the sound of the ocean instead. It’s cooler here than inside the club, but somehow even the beach is still packed. Couples sit together against the dunes, talking quietly in hushed whispers, and the air is thick with the smell of weed as people pass joints between one another.

You can feel yourself getting annoyed, getting angry. You just wanted some goddamn peace and quiet, away from the loud ass Pogues and the other Kooks with their leering gazes. You walk through the sand, sandals in hand, trying to find an empty spot. It takes a few moments of walking across the beach to finally find an empty spot, surrounded by a cliffside, though it’s not much of one. You’re far enough from the party that the light from the bonfire on the patio doesn’t reach you, and the music and the laughter is faint from far away. Still, you’re just close enough to the country club that you can hear the thumping bass.

You’re surrounded on all sides by couples that have gathered on the beach, too. You can hear their whispers and laughter, quiet intimate moments in the setting sun, and it just seems to make you angrier. You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the sun as it settles into the horizon, watching the colours change.

The sun slips behind the horizon, the sky slowly fading from purple and orange to the black of night, lit up only by pale stars and a crescent moon. The air grows colder as night creeps in, a soft breeze sweeping off the ocean, carrying the sound of the waves hitting into a soft roar in your ears. It’s still too loud. The voices of the couples on the beach next to you and the music from the club don’t allow any kind of peace, no quiet moments for you to just breathe.

You set your bag down beside you, digging through it to pull out your journal and your pen. You start to write another entry, undated, just like the rest of them. It’s just pages of your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings, words pouring out of you in the dim light of the setting sun. It’s just your stream of consciousness, all the things you’re feeling and thinking. It feels good, like a release to just unload it all onto the page, and every word that comes off of your mind and into the journal just serves to relieve the growing tension in you. Your shoulders start to droop, your mind too focused on writing and the sound of the crashing waves to pay attention to the couples around you.

The world fades away, and it’s just you, the crashing of the waves, and your pen on the page. Your mind empties and it’s finally so, so quiet, the weight off of your shoulders almost lifting you up entirely. You’re so focused, so deep into your writing, finally having the peace and quiet you were wanting--

The pen nearly flies out of your hand when you jump, feeling someone tap on your shoulder. You quickly shut the journal, your head spinning around. “Jesus, dude! You scared the shit out of me!”

And there’s Rafe, standing there behind you, a grin on his face as he watches you quickly clutch your journal to your chest. He puts out a placating hand, giving you an almost innocent look. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.” 

You sigh, your shoulders tense again. “It’s fine.”

His face falls slightly, no longer grinning, as he notices just how tense you are. He glances around for a moment, taking in the couples on the beach around you all curled up to one another. He swallows, looking back to you. “You alright?”

“Fine, just…” You sigh again. “Overwhelmed, I guess. I get bad anxiety at things like this. I can normally handle it, but…”

He watches you for a second, studying your face, the way you hold the journal to your chest, the way your shoulders are still tense. The way you’re clearly still on edge. He slowly sits down next to you, the sand shifting under him. He stretches out his legs in front of him, dropping his hands into the sand, and his knee pressed against yours. You slip your journal and pen back into your bag.

He stays quiet, just sitting with you, listening to the waves and the sounds of the couples next to you. He finally speaks after another moment, his voice quiet. “Why’d you come if it makes you so anxious?”

“My parents,” You say. “They expect me to come. I have to, for like appearances and stuff. The ladies at my mom’s book club like to gossip, you know?”

He lets out a quiet snort, nodding. “Yeah, I get the whole appearances thing. This whole party is basically just an excuse for the Kooks to flaunt their money and kiss ass.”

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah. Exactly.”

He smiles a bit to himself as you laugh quietly, but his gaze still watches you for a moment longer before he turns to look forward, watching the waves as they crash into one another and spill onto the beach. He’s quieter than usual tonight. Usually he’d make some kind of smart ass comment to go with his answer, but tonight he seems almost pensive.

You sigh, leaning your head against the side of his bicep. “It’s just so loud in there and people kept touching me. I don’t know how you do it.”

Rafe’s shoulders tense at your touch, but he doesn’t pull away from you, he just lets you lean against him for a long moment. He swallows a little bit, his hand twitching in the sand in-between you too, before he finally speaks again. “You get used to it, after a while.”

You hum in response. “Is it cool that I’m doing this?”

“Yeah,” He replies quickly, his shoulders finally relaxing as he takes in a deep breath. It’s silent for another moment, but the way his muscles relax under your touch makes it clear that he appreciated it. “Yeah, it’s fine. You can do whatever you want.”

“Thanks, Rafey.” You mumble, the old nickname tumbling out. “I’m feeling better already.”

Rafe stiffens at that nickname, his breath catching in his throat just for a second. He was surprised to hear it again - it had been years since he’d last heard you call him that. He swallows, forcing himself to stay calm as the nickname stirs a little bit of that old feeling in his chest. “Yeah, you look a little better too. Less green.”

You snort. “Thanks.”

He gives you a slight nudge with his elbow, smirking a bit at your snort, but his smirk fades almost immediately, his face falling back into a more thoughtful look. He stays silent another moment, still listening to the waves and the couples around you, but his thoughts seem to be a million miles away. He finally speaks again, voice quiet. “How often do you get anxious? At events like this, I mean.”

“I’m anxious from the second I arrive until the second I leave,” You say. “I’m not built for crowded events. I don’t like when people stare at me.”

He keeps his gaze on the ocean, but his shoulders sink a bit at hearing that. He never knew that, to be honest - he always assumed you were built for these kinds of parties, more at peace with crowds since you were born into it. The fact that you’re just as anxious as he used to be makes his chest ache a bit, and his gaze flicks over to you. “How’re you feeling now, though?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” You say, wrapping your arms around his bicep, leaning against him.

His breath catches again, his stomach jumping when you wrap your arms around his arm, and his hand twitches a bit, like he thought about wrapping it around you for a moment before he stopped himself. He swallows, but he still can’t fight the slight flush that rises up his neck as he stares forward, a small smile twisting at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah? Why, do I just have a calming aura?”

“It’s the familiarity, I guess,” You say. “I feel safe around you.”

Rafe’s shoulders relax a bit more at that answer, his face softening slightly, and his smile grows the slightest bit. He can feel his own heartbeat in his chest still, but he lets out a breath, trying to keep his cool. “Good, that’s uh… I mean,” He swallows, trying to think of what the right thing to say is, before settling for the truth. “I want you to feel safe around me.”

“Good.” You say. You look up at him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. His gaze flicks back down to you again, and he looks down at you as you stare up at him, before he slowly raises a hand, lightly brushing a strand of hair out of your face. He studies you a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, taking in how calm you look now as you leaned against his side. There was something about you that Rafe was drawn to, and he couldn’t explain why. All he knew was that he loved the way you felt against him. For a split second, his gaze flicks down to your lips, the smallest moment where he’s tempted to lean down and kiss you.

He turns back to face the horizon, sneaking his arm out of your grasp and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling you against him. You comply happily, wrapping your arms around his waist. He lets out a quiet sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, his face flushing more as you get closer to him. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, looking forward towards the sea. It was so peaceful - the waves, the cool breeze, the feeling of your body against his. It was just perfect.

He breaks the silence. “You doin’ anything after this?”

“No,” You say, rubbing some of the material of his shirt between your thumb and pointer finger. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Rafe says, his hand moving up to absently play with the hair at the back of your neck. It sends shivers down your spine, and he smirks slightly, pulling you closer. “Havin’ an after party if you wanna come. Top and Kel already left to get it started.”

“Who’s gonna be there?” You ask.

“The boys,” He says with a slight shrug, running a finger along the side of your neck, tracing it along your skin. “Some people from the club too. But I want you there, if you think you'll be okay.” He adds as an afterthought, his hand settling gently against the side of your neck, his thumb ghosting back and forth against your skin.

“Promise to take care of me?” You ask, your tone joking. 

Rafe chuckles a bit, smiling lightly as you joke. He nods, running his thumb in small, comforting circles against your skin. “I'll look after you. I won't let you out of my sight.”

“Then I’ll do it,” You say. “Should be fine. I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

He smiles, leaning his head down and pressing a whispery kiss to the top of your head. “Good, cause I want you there. Everyone else sucks.” His thumb brushes along your neck one more time before he draws his hand back, returning it to rest on top of one of your arms around his waist. His gaze flicks from the ocean back to you, studying your face again as you leaned against him. “Can I tell you somethin’?”

You nod, looking back over the horizon. Rafe takes a deep breath, his hand absently rubbing up and down your back as he gathers his words, trying to decide how to say this without ruining everything. He was always awkward when it came to things like this, and having a beautiful girl in his arms made it even more difficult to say. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask.

His eyes linger on yours for another moment before he speaks again. “For leaving you that morning without saying goodbye. I was… I was just scared. Scared after losing Ward. I just had to go home.”

You smile softly, squeezing him. “It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. You were going through a lot.”

His shoulders relax as you squeeze him, a soft breath escaping him when you say you understand, and a soft smile appears on his face. He pulls you more snugly against him, his face flushed from your squeeze, and he presses another soft kiss to your head, letting out another one of those soft breaths. “Good, I’m glad you get that. Um… you know I care about you, right? Like, a lot. That’s… I mean, that’s not gonna change. I…” He trails off for a second, hesitating before finally continuing. “You mean a lot to me.”

“I care about you too, Rafey.” You whisper, looking back up at him.

His eyes soften, his stomach jumping. His heartbeat is still quick in his chest - he can still feel it through his ribs. He swallows quietly, a hand slipping up the side of your neck, fingers grazing up until they’re under your chin. He slowly raises your chin up, staring down into your eyes. “I’m glad,” You smile softly, leaning against his shoulder. His gaze lingers on your face for another moment, studying your sweet look a moment longer before he leans down, leaning his forehead against yours. The hand on your neck stays in place a moment, his thumb brushing your jaw, before sliding down your neck again. “You ready to get outta here?”

You nod. “Yeah. Ready when you are.”

He smiles softly, his thumb brushing over your neck one final time, before he slowly pulls away. He pushes himself up, groaning a bit as he straightens, his back popping. He reaches down and offers you a hand. “C’mon, beautiful.” 

Your face grows warm again as you take his hand, putting your bag over your shoulder. He pulls you up with ease, a hand wrapping around your waist to help steady you once you’re on your feet again. He lets out a soft sigh, looking at your face again, before starting to walk with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you up the beach.

You make your way to the country club. You hang around outside, waiting for Rafe to say his goodbyes, as you wipe your sandy feet off on the grass, slipping your sandals back on. He doesn’t take long inside, giving a few last farewells to the few people still mingling in the country club before heading back out to you, still waiting for him. He can’t keep the slight smirk off of his face as he steps out, spotting you waiting around. “Ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You say.

He smiles, walking over to you and resting his hand on your back again, guiding you away from the country club and towards the parking lot. His hand drops from your back when you get to his car, but his fingers brush your arm as he walks past you. He unlocks his truck before rushing around and opening up the passenger side door. “After you.” He said with a smirk.

You climb in, getting comfy. His car is always clean, a bottle of sunscreen and a water bottle in his cupholders. Dangling from the rearview mirror is a pear scented air freshener and a photo of him with his sisters Sarah and Wheezie. “Is it at your place?”

Rafe closes the door behind you and quickly walks around, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. He doesn’t immediately drive off, though, and instead just starts the car and leans back in his seat, letting it idle for a moment. “Mhm. My new place. That cool?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“Yeah, course.” You say.

“Good,” He says, pulling his seat belt on and pulling out of the parking lot, pulling out onto the road and driving towards his new house. The sun had set a while ago and the drive is peaceful, Head over Heels by Tears for Fears playing softly from the radio as the wind brushes through your hair from the slightly-open windows. You admire him as he drives, watching him quietly sing along, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

He doesn’t catch your eyes watching him until he glances over at you for a moment. He smiles when he catches you looking at him, his cheeks growing a bit warmer, but he quickly turns his gaze forward again, focusing on the road. He doesn’t say anything, just taps his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music and keeps driving. As you approach his new house, he turns the radio off, Heat Of The Moment by Asia just getting seconds to start playing. He parks the car, quickly getting out to rush over to the passenger side to open the door for you.

“Thanks.” You say, hopping out.

“No problem.” He smiles, holding out a hand to help you out. When you’re safely on the ground again, he keeps your hand in his, shutting and locking the car before guiding you towards the house. As he does so, he glances down at you, his face growing a bit warmer when he realises that you’re now holding his hand.

He opens the door, the party already in full swing, music blasting while drunk Kooks grind up against each other. The house reeks of alcohol and weed, music blasting through the speakers and people talking loudly amongst themselves. The majority of the crowd appears to be drunk and/or high already, people swaying and staggering around each other, talking and laughing drunkenly. Rafe slips inside, pulling you along with him through the crowd, heading straight for the kitchen, where Topper and Kelce are, beers in hand while they talk to a few of Rafe’s other friends.

“Where can I put my bag?” You ask, keeping it close to you.

He looks at the bag, opening the fridge. “Yo, Top.”

Topper looks over. “Sup?”

Rafe grabs your bag, handing it to Topper. “Put this in my room and I’ll let you snort some lines.”

Topper seems intrigued by the promise of free cocaine, already heading out of the kitchen towards the stairs. 

“Thanks, Rafe.” You say. 

He shuts the fridge door. “No problem,” He watches Topper head off before turning back to you, resting his hand on your lower back. “You want a beer or somethin’?”

You shake your head, getting closer to him. “No, I’m good.”

He smiles softly, rubbing small circles with his thumb against your back. “You sure? Plenty of stuff you can try out.” He nods towards where the makeshift bar is set up in the living room, various bottles of liquor and hard alcohol all stacked up.

You shake your head again, fully leaning against him. “Nah. I’m good right now.”

He smiles, putting a bit of pressure against your back, pulling you closer. He’s a bit buzzed himself, a few drinks into the evening, and feeling good already. He leans down a bit, almost resting his chin on your head. “Alright, beautiful.” You lean against Rafe, head resting against his chest as he talks to his friends for a while, beer bottle in hand. You’re feeling a bit anxious, but all things considered, being right against him is providing you some comfort. Your eyes flutter closed for just a second before you open them again.

Topper approaches, a stupid smile on his face, definitely a little drunk. Rafe smiles, his hand absentmindedly playing with your hair for the time being. He glances over when Topper approaches, seeing the smile on his face. He lets out a snort, looking at his friend. “You snort something already?”

Topper ignores him, hands immediately going to cup your face. “You…” He shakes your head. “I know about you.”

“What?” You ask, trying to pull away.

“I know,” He repeats. “I know what you do.” He doesn’t let you go, his hands lingering on the sides of your face, though his hands are now a bit more rough.

Rafe’s face falls immediately, a bad feeling brewing in his gut. “Top, what are you talking about?”

“You left your journal in your bag,” Topper says, squeezing your face. “I read it. Couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart drops, a chill going over your skin. “What?”

Topper grins stupidly, still squeezing your face in a way that’s making you uncomfortable. “I read it.” He repeats. “You and all of your anxiety.”

Rafe’s eyes fill with dread as he hears that, his eyes widening slightly with terror. He swallows. “You weren’t supposed to read that, dude.”

“Oh, that’s not all!” Topper exclaims happily. “Someone…someone’s got a crush on you, Rafe.” Topper glances over at him. “A big, fat, gigantic crush on you. Half those pages are about you, man.”

You try to pull your face away, but his grip tightens. Your stomach twists and churns, hot, shameful tears welling in your eyes. Rafe’s heart drops into his stomach at Topper’s words, and his gaze flicks over to you almost immediately, his eyes widening when he sees the tears. He swallows, trying to stay calm as he takes a step forward. “Topper, let her go, man. Don’t do this right now.”

Topper lets go of your face, pushing you slightly. “Don’t tell me you pity her, man.”

“She didn’t do anything,” Rafe argues with his friend, clenching his hands into fists. “C’mon, man, you don’t gotta do this. Just leave her alone.”

“Hey, listen,” Topper grabs your arm when you try to walk away. “I won’t tell anyone. All you gotta do is get down on your knees and open your pretty mouth for me, alright? All you gotta do is put my balls in that pretty little mouth of yours, and I won’t tell a soul.”

Rafe pushes Topper away from you, sending him tumbling into the counter. “You’re being a dick, man, don’t say that shit to her. Come on.” 

Topper stands up and shoves him. “Don’t be a pussy, Rafe. She can handle it.”

“I don’t care if she can handle it, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Rafe says angrily.

“Why do you care?” Topper asks. “You care about this little slut?” Rafe goes to lunge at him but stops himself, and it causes Topper to laugh. “What? You gonna hit me?”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Rafe says. “Just shut up. Don’t talk to her like that. I won’t let you treat her that way. Quit being an asshole before I fuck you up.”

Topper laughs. “I could kick your ass, man, and you know that.”

“Yeah?” Rafe challenges. “Come on. Hit me.” He slaps his cheek over and over, inviting Topper to take a swing.

“Rafe, hey, stop,” You grab his arm. “Don’t fight. Come on.”

Rafe doesn’t look at you as you grab his arm, his eyes still locked on Topper’s, waiting for a punch, daring his friend to hit him. Topper hesitates, waiting for a moment before finally grinning and dropping his shoulders. “Look at that. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“You know what? Party’s over,” Rafe says. He cups around his mouth before yelling. “Everyone, get the fuck out!”

Almost immediately, everyone starts heading for the door, the party rapidly dying out as people start piling out into the night. The music dies down as Topper pushes past Rafe, his shoulder checking him on his way out. “Pussy.”

Rafe just clenches his fists, biting his lip, as he stands there and watches everyone leaving. The door slams shut with the final departure, and you look over at him, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. “You okay?”

When the door shuts for the last time, he turns to look at you, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears in your eyes. He swallows, moving towards you and cupping your face, wiping away the other stray tears off of your face. “I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You say softly. 

“Good,” He says softly, sighing. He keeps his hands on your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You’re good. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry about Topper.”

“It’s not your fault.” You say.

“Still,” He sighs. “You didn’t deserve that. That’s not how any of this should’ve happened.” He closes his eyes, resting his forehead against yours as guilt overflows his chest.

Your eyes close and you sigh, leaning into his hands. He lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he just feels you lean into him, a warm feeling going through his chest. He’s not even quite sure what to say, still overwhelmed from the events that have just unfolded in front of him. He just stands there with his eyes closed, pressing his face against your forehead. 

“He was telling the truth,” You say, breaking the silence. “About what he read.”

He swallows, keeping his eyes closed for a few more seconds before slowly opening them again. “I know, beautiful.” He replies softly, his voice nearly a whisper.

Your stomach twists. “You knew that I liked you?”

“Yeah, I knew,” He replies softly. “I’ve known for a while.” He hesitates, his fingers grazing against your cheek. “Didn’t know you felt that strongly about me, though.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you pull away, trying not to cry. You felt so stupid. “They were… they were older entries, Rafe.” Although deep down, you knew you still felt the same way.

His face falls when you try to pull away, guilt filling his gut, and he quickly moves his hand to catch your wrist, trying to stop you. “Hey, wait, don’t pull away, please,” His eyes look sad when he sees that trembling lip, his grip tightening on your hand. “It’s okay, beautiful, please just stay.”

“No, no, you…” You shudder. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I’m not ‘doing’ anything, beautiful,” He says softly. “Stop pulling away. Stay. I’m trying to talk to you. I… I want to talk to you about this.”

“I know you don’t feel the same way, Rafe,” You say pathetically, starting to cry. “You don’t have to do this.”

He swallows, the guilt just building and building and building as he watches you start to cry, and he can’t stand to watch you cry for another second without doing something about it. He takes a step forward, taking your face in his hands. “Look at me.” You look up at him, whimpering slightly.

He gently wipes away your tears, his gaze locking on yours as he forces you to look him in the eye. His face is soft, his look comforting, and his own chest hurts just from looking at the hurt in your teary eyes. He swallows to collect himself before speaking. “I know they were older entries, but I know you still like me.”

You shake your head, but you didn’t know who you were trying to convince, yourself or Rafe. “Rafe, please, you don’t have to do this.”

He can tell that you’re trying to deny it, and when you start begging him not to do whatever he’s trying to say, he finally just breaks. “Stop.” He says, almost begging himself. His thumb presses against your jaw, trying to still you and get you to look into his eyes. “Please, just stop. Stop saying that I- that I don’t have to say anything. I need to say this.”

You nod, letting him talk.

He swallows again, trying to organise his words and say everything right in his mind before he says it all out loud. It’ll be too real if he does. He holds your face in his hands as he looks down at you, his own chest rising and falling as he tries to find the words. “I know that you still like me, and I know you’ve felt that way about me for a long time. But I just… I’m just terrified I’m going to mess it up. Like I always mess everything else up.”

“You don’t mess anything up.” You say.

He looks away for a moment before looking back into your eyes, swallowing. “Beautiful, I do. I mess everything up. That’s just who I am, I mess everything good up, and I can’t bear the idea of risking messing it up with you too. You matter too much to me. You, like, you actually mean something to me, and I just can’t stand the idea of not being able to be in your life because I messed everything up.”

“How would you mess this up?” You ask softly.

He takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself again. “I don’t know. I don’t know how, but I would. I mean, I screw everything else up, so why should this be any different? I’m gonna get too messed up and act too crazy and do something that pushes you away. And you’ll hate me, or, or worse, you’ll just go away. You’ll walk out of my life and it’ll just be like you were never there.”

“I’ll never leave you like that, Rafey.” You say, leaning into his palms.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling you lean into his hands. It feels so good, so right, that he can’t stand it. He lets out a breath before opening his eyes again, swallowing hard. “You say that now, beautiful, but it doesn’t change anything,” He says softly. “I know I’m gonna screw this up, I’m gonna do something that hurts you, and I just can’t stand the idea of ever hurting you, beautiful, I…” He trails off, his chest constricting as he desperately tries to get his words out. “I lost Ward. I'm loosing Sarah to that fucker John B. She doesn’t even go by Sarah Cameron anymore. I can't lose you too.”

“You’ll never lose me.” You say, moving your hands up to cup his.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily as he feels the warmth of your hands wrapping around his, your words like a soothing touch to his own soul. It’s like everything inside him just settles at your words, a feeling he hadn’t realised he was craving for the longest time. He opens his eyes again, slowly, before looking down at you. “Promise?”

“I promise,” You say. “I…” You hesitate, sucking in a breath. His chest is a nervous wreck, his stomach twisting into so many goddamn knots as he just waits for your words, his eyes never once leaving yours.

You take a shaky, tear filled breath. “I love you.”

Everything falls silent. Rafe’s mind goes blank, all thoughts just vanishing from his head as those words fall from your lips. All that fills his head is your voice. I love you. I love you, it echoes, over and over and over again, bouncing around his mind like a ball in a dark room. He can’t think of anything else as those words just crash through his head, leaving everything in rubble. His heart feels like it’s stopped, that it’s just frozen in his chest, and he’s speechless.

Your bottom lip trembles again, a fresh new set of tears already welling in your eyes. “Please say something. Please do something.”

When you plead for him to speak or do something, it snaps him out of his daze, and his heart comes back to life. It starts pumping again like he’s run a mile, and suddenly he’s all movement as he suddenly pulls you against him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He just holds you like that at first, hugging you tight tight tight, his head burying against the side of your neck, letting out a huge breath against your skin.

“You don’t have to say it back,” You say, wrapping your arms around him. “I know it’s hard for you to say, and you don’t have to say it back to me.”

He just hugs you tighter when you say that, his hands clutching at the back of your shirt. “Shut up,” He mumbles against the side of your neck, his voice a whisper. “Just shut up. You stupid, beautiful girl. Shut up. Shut up.”

You let out a small laugh, hugging him tighter.

Rafe hugs you even tighter at the sound of your laugh, his arms wrapped so tightly around your back that you might have trouble breathing soon. His heart is still beating a mile a minute, and he just wants to squeeze all the air out of you, so that you’re forced to only breathe him. He buries his face against your neck again, his voice a whisper when he speaks. “Say it again. Please.”

“I love you.” You whisper into his ear, kissing his temple.

His breath catches in his throat when you whisper those words again, saying them against his ear and kissing his temple, and he can’t take it. He squeezes you tighter, almost afraid you’re going to disappear if he doesn’t hold you tight enough, if he doesn’t hold you close enough. His lips suddenly press against your neck, kissing it over and over, his voice a shaky whisper. “I'll say it. Eventually. I just can't right now.”

“I know.” You whisper.

He buries his face against your neck, still kissing your skin over and over as his mind races, trying to collect himself. “Stop telling me it’s okay. Stop being so damn forgiving, beautiful girl. I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” You say.

He sighs against your neck, finally pulling away, though he still keeps his arms wrapped tight around your waist. He doesn’t look you in the eye, his eyes falling to the collar of your shirt, his eyes just locking on the skin of your throat. “I’m a mess,” He says. “I’ve never done anything right in my life. I mess everything up. Why do you want to put up with that?”

“Because I love you,” You say again. “I always have, and I always will. Even if we don’t end up together, I’ll still fucking love you.”

His breath catches to hear you say that. Hearing those three words again makes his stomach twist and his mind go blank, but he finally forces himself to look into your eyes again. He swallows before speaking. “Promise?”

“I promise.” You say, sticking a pinky up.

His eyes fall on your pinky, and for a moment he just stares at it, seeing it in front of his face. When he finally comes to his senses, he lifts a hand off your waist to reach forward and lock his pinky with yours, his eyes locking back on yours. When he locks your fingers together, a warmth rushes through his chest, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders, and his eyes grow soft as he stares into your eyes. For a while, he just stands there, looking at you as he takes in the fact that you… love him. That you’re, actually, in love love with him. And he’s standing here, holding your hand in front of him, just trying his best to keep his shit together.

Rafe swallows hard before speaking, “Can I kiss you?”

“God, fuck, please do.” You breathe out.

God, he can’t believe he’s actually hearing that from you - begging him for a kiss. His heart leaps in his chest to hear that, that soft, pleading response, and he barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s suddenly surging forward, pressing his lips against your own. His hands release your waist and instead move up to cup your face, tilting your head back as he suddenly kisses you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he keeps his hands on your face as he kisses you, pulling you flush against him, closing his eyes. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced - he’s kissed plenty of girls before, sure, but he’s never felt this. You, you feel so different. He can’t even begin to put into words what it is about you that makes it different, what it is that makes you different from all of the girls he’s kissed before.

All he knows is that it is.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my permanent obx taglist here!

[shipspainfulships]

1st year:-

James looks at Regulus and with a blinding smile places his hand forward for a handshake, "hello Reggie! I'm James"

Regulus only looks at James with thinly veiled disgust and says "don't call me that" and walks away.

2nd year:-

James, sweaty and tired from the quidditch practice sees Regulus enter the field and yells, "hey Reggie!"

Regulus glares and says "don't call me that" and walks away.

3rd year:-

On his way to class he bumps into Regulus. He pushes his glasses up and his eyes light up to see it's Regulus, "Reggie-"

Regulus harshly moves past James bumping his shoulder into his and walking away he says "don't call me that"

4th year:-

James finds Regulus behind an aclove reading and plops down. "Hey Reggie"

Regulus looks up and then back down at his book "go away potter"

James smiles and doesn't move.

5th year:-

Walking away in a hurry from Potions class James bumps into Regulus

"hey watch where you- Potter what's wrong"

James silently walks away with his head hung and palms sweaty.

6th year (September):-

"hey" Regulus says with a smile when James finds him yet again at the astronomy tower and sits down with him.

"Reggie" James says warmly and rests his head on top of his head, inhaling Reggie's sweet smell.

6th year (January):-

"hey Reggie" James says with a bright smile that vanishes as soon as he sees Regulus' trembling figure approach.

His reggie looks at him with dead eyes and promptly breaks down in front of him.

James holds him as Regulus' body racks with sobs.

Regulus looks up and shows his left hand. There it was. The dark foul magic that made his Reggie look like a ghost, a shell of himself.

"Reggie-" James starts with pleading eyes,

"no, please, don't call me that" Regulus says softly and then walks away.

James breaks down crying.

Sometime during 1979:-

Lily comes up to James and hugs him tightly.

James tenses up. "Wh- what's wrong Lily"

"Regulus"

One word. One name. And all of James world comes crashing down.

nonononononononononononononononono

His light, his star, his Reggie, gone

James doesn't speak for an entire month.

[freedomfireflies]

One Day*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you still hate Harry, but turns out, you might be having his baby.

Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, spanking, brief choking, slight angst (happy ending), mentions of pregnancy and babies! *Please be so gentle with yourself and only continue if you feel comfortable! 💞*

“I’m late.”

“For what?”

You huff. “I’m late,” you repeat, gesturing frantically toward your hips. “A week late. Which I know can happen, but…not really to me, so…I’m late. And I think we’re fucked.”

Harry blinks. Looks down at your stomach. Looks up at your face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You rear back. “That’s all you have to say for yourself is oh?”

He lifts his left shoulder in nonchalant shrug before flopping down onto your sofa. “I don’t know. What did you want me to say?”

“I…I don’t know,” you huff. “I kind of thought you’d…yell. Or freak out or something. Or ask me if I’m keeping it.”

“Do you want me to freak out?”

“Well…no. Not really.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I…I don’t know, I don’t even…I’m not even sure if I am yet or not.”

“Okay.” He nudges his glasses up before crossing his arms. “Well did you get a test?”

You glance toward the pharmacy bag still sitting on your kitchen counter. It’s been mocking you ever since you picked it up. Staring you down, sticking out its tongue. One, tiny little box that’ll determine the next chapter of your life. It’s almost infuriating. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I, um…got one on the way home from work.”

“Okay. Have you taken it yet?”

“Not…exactly.”

His brow raises. “Do you…need help or something?”

You scowl. “It’s peeing on a stick, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah, well, knowing you, you’d find a way to fuck it up.” He smirks. “Sure hope our baby gets my brains instead of yours.”

You grab the pillow beside him and give him a firm whack. “That’s not funny.”

He laughs as he winces. “Good. I wasn’t being funny.”

“Then, stop it. And stop being so calm.”

“You just said you preferred calm—”

“Well…it’s scaring me now. So what gives?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t really feel the need to waste a reaction on something we don’t even know is happening yet. Take the test and then I’ll freak out if you’d like.”

“You say that like someone that’s had a lot of pregnancy scares.”

He snorts. “No, I say that like someone who knows freaking out won’t exactly help you right now. So just take the goddamn test, Tinkerbell. And we’ll go from there.”

Unamused, but somehow slightly comforted, you oblige and snatch the box from the table before retreating to the bathroom.

Once the timer has been set, you slowly make your way back to him.

He’s still sitting on the sofa. Calm. Unaffected. Watching you without a care in the world. Like his whole life isn’t about to change. 

It drives you nuts.

“Five minutes,” you tell him.

He nods.

Warily, you sit in the chair to his left, staring holes through your shoes as your heart races inside your chest. You’re not sure how you got here. Not sure where you could possibly go. You aren’t ready for a baby. Not…yet. Especially not one with…him.

“Hey,” he calls, pulling your attention up. “S’the matter with you?”

Your eyes narrow. “What the hell do you think?”

Another casual shrug that makes your teeth grit. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” You lean back. “Why on Earth would I be happy about getting stuck with your DNA for the rest of my life?”

He smiles. “I don’t know. You just seem like the type of girl to want a lot of babies.”

You scoff. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” You don’t think.

“Really? Is that why you begged me to breed you?”

“I didn’t actually mean it. That’s just what you say in a moment like that.”

His eyebrow raises.

You hesitate. “Did…did you mean it?”

“Kind of,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, maybe I didn’t mean right this second, but…I don’t hate the idea.”

“You actually want to be a father?” You snort. “Bullshit. You hate kids. I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t hate kids, I just don’t care about them when they aren’t mine.” He throws his arm over the back of the chair and smirks. “I like my nieces, though. They’re chill.”

You blink. “You…you have nieces? Wait, you have siblings?”

“Yeah. One brother. He’s got two kids and they’re cute as shit.”

“Oh.” Your head starts to pound. “See? We can’t have a baby when I don’t even know anything about you.”

He chuckles to himself before nodding his chin at you. “All right, fine. Go ahead. Ask me whatever.”

“What?”

“Ask me what you wanna know.”

You think. “Okay. How often do you see your family?”

“Often enough. They live in California, and they work a lot. But we call every couple of weeks.”

“Oh. That’s…surprisingly nice. Uh…do you have a history of disease in your family?”

He grins. “Excuse me?”

“I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” You motion at him. “Answer.”

“This isn’t an interview—”

“Answer.”

“No,” he says. “Not that I know of anyway.”

“Great. Do you plan to be a deadbeat father?”

His eyes roll. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

“So, yes? You do? Oh, great—”

“No, because that’s not a fair fucking question—”

“It is a fair question. If I have to raise this baby alone, I want to know—”

“Of course you wouldn’t fucking be alone. Do you really think so little of me—”

“I don’t think about you at all. How am I supposed to know what you’ll do—”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he nearly snaps. He takes a breath to calm himself before adding, “Even if it wasn’t my baby, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Your lashes flutter and you can feel your heart lodging in your throat. “Fine. Last question.”

He waits.

“Did you ever want kids…before? With…her?”

He doesn’t have to think for very long, but the mention of her makes him smile. “Nah. We talked about it, but we weren’t ready. We liked it being just us, you know? We had a bunch of shit we wanted to do. We were a long way from babies and a white picket fence.”

You try to blink back the tears swimming their way to your eye. You can still see that beautiful picture of her in his room. An entire future of love and life and adventures that he lost. Now…he’s stuck with you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You swipe your knuckle along your cheek. “So, you probably still aren’t ready.”

“I didn’t say that.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Harry, come on. You aren’t ready for a baby. I’m not ready for a baby. We…we don’t know each other, we don’t like each other…we can’t do this. You know that.”

“Do I?” He leans forward. “It’s a baby, not a bomb. I think we can handle it.”

“Well, I don’t. You don’t even like me. You can’t have a baby with me.”

“Why not? People do it all the time.”

“But not us.” You give him a firm stare. “Harry, we love our jobs. We want careers, not kids. So having a baby kind of gets in the way of that. There’s…there’s diaper changes, and teething, and potty training—”

“So?”

“So. We don’t work together well. In fact, it’s a rather well-known fact that we don’t get along. We can’t possibly raise a kid. We’d ruin it.” You study him for a beat, unnerved by the nonchalance in his tone. “Why do I get the feeling you actually want this to be real?”

Another shrug and you nearly lunge at him. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees while he glances at the floor. “I’m older now. Maybe it’s time to…think about settling down.”

Your face scrunches. “Ew. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He laughs. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, but…maybe it could be a good thing.”

You stand from your chair and pace the length of your small living room. “This is crazy. This is crazy. I can’t have a baby, I’m…I’m not ready. I’m too young, I…I don’t even know what I’d do with one. Or if I even have a maternal instinct.”

“Probably not,” Harry offers, smirking when you glare. “You won’t really know until you have one.”

“Oh, great.”

“Listen, if you feel like you aren’t ready…we can find another alternative,” he says, softening his voice. “Okay? There are plenty of other options and we’ll find one you feel comfortable with.”

A tad wary of his sympathetic answer, you eye him closely. “Yeah? And what if we disagree?”

“We won’t,” he says calmly. “Your body, your decision.”

“Right,” you snort. “I’m sure.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t be the one having to carry it.” He nods as though to reassure you. “Honestly, Tink. This would be your decision, one hundred percent. It’s not mine to make. Just to support.”

The tears rush a little faster as you sniffle and step closer. “You say that now, but what if I decide something you don’t like?”

“I will like it. I promise,” he murmurs, standing up in order to move toward you. “If you want to keep it, great. If you don’t, great.”

“I…I…” You suck in a deep breath, unable to slow the wild racing in your chest. “Fuck, I can’t…I don’t know—”

“Hey, okay, easy. Easy, Princess,” he says, quickly reaching out to take you in his arms and ease you against his chest. “Relax. Okay? Just breathe. Breathe for me.”

“I…I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can. You are.” His lips press to the top of your head while his hand runs up and down your back soothingly. “I’m right here. Do you hear me? I’m right here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone. I promise.”

You squeeze your arms together and hold on with everything you have. Right now, he feels like your only anchor in the world. The only person strong enough to carry you both through to the other side. And for the first time since you met him…you feel glad that he’s here.

The two of you stand in the middle of the room for a long while before he finally murmurs, “I think it’s been five minutes.”

Your eyes close and you grip his shirt in your first. “I’m…I’m not ready to look.”

“Okay.” You can hear the smile in his response. “Okay, we can wait.”

So, you do as the truth starts to build in your chest. Inescapable, no matter how hard you try to swallow it down.

Finally, you can’t help but whisper, “You know what scares me the most?”

“Hm?”

“…that maybe I’m hoping it’s real.”

The apartment falls silent again. He doesn’t push you to elaborate, but you can feel his heart beating just a little faster inside his chest.

“I don’t know why,” you continue. “I don’t…I really don’t think I’m ready, but…but what if I should be? What if…what if we met and we started this because…because we were supposed to do this?”

He considers this. “Like fate.”

“Yeah.” You roll your lips into your mouth. “Because I still hate you. I do. I just…I’m starting to get this picture in my head of us. Being a family. Having a big house in a good school district. Tucking them into bed at night and reading them stories. Which is…dumb.”

“No,” he mumbles. “No, it’s not dumb. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because I meant what I said, I’d love to get you pregnant. You’d look really fucking hot.”

You chuckle. “Yes, so you’ve mentioned.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh…okay?”

He smirks. “I never had a breeding kink until I met you.”

You lean back and swat your hand across his chest. “You’re so annoying.”

“What? I’m being serious.” He grins and those dimples pop free. God, you hope your kids have his dimples—

No. Nope. You aren’t going there.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the thought. “Whatever. You’re just horny.”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.” His gentle gaze sweeps across your face. “If you wanna do this…we’ll do it. You and me. We’ll have this baby, and we’ll raise it to be really smart, and funny, and to not take shit from anybody.”

You laugh, brushing away a few more tears. “Maybe we can teach it to write code.”

“Oh, fucking obviously.”

The two of you smile before the excitement seems to fizzle and Harry’s brows pull together.

“You know I don’t actually hate you, right?” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I know that’s our thing, and I know you said it earlier, but…I don’t actually hate you. This baby wouldn’t grow up with two parents that don’t like each other.”

“Oh…I…I know.”

“Good. Because I don’t want that to be one of the reasons you think we can’t do it. I’d fucking love that baby. And I’d love you for carrying it.”

Instantly, you both seem to still. The four-letter word sounds so loud inside such a small room.

I’d love you.

He clears his throat, shifting a bit as he glances toward the kitchen. “I mean, I’d…I’d appreciate you for carrying it—”

“No, yeah, I know,” you stammer. “I know what you mean.”

“Good. Yeah.”

The two of you fall quiet again before you softly admit, “I think I’m ready to look.”

“Okay.” He squeezes your hip. “I’m right here.”

You take in a deep breath before begrudgingly pulling yourself out of his arms. You already miss his warmth and the way he felt like home and your stomach turns as you slip into the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you reach for the stick that sits on the edge of your sink. And in those three seconds, an entire lifetime flashes before your eyes. 

The good, the bad, and the everything in-between. You see a house and a dog and a big backyard. You see two little kids rolling in the grass and jumping into the pool. You hear them begging for a bedtime story and crying when they scrape their knee.

You see a dozen birthdays and holidays and visits to the zoo. You see their heartbreaks and triumphs, their successes and letdowns. You see a million goodnight kisses and cuddles on the couch. 

And then…you see Harry.

In every picture, every moment. Taking them to their first baseball game and picking them up from their first dance. Sneaking them into R-rated movies even after you explicitly said no and feeding them far too much candy and popcorn.

You see him teach your son how to tie a tie and dance with your daughter as she stands on his feet. You see him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, flour all over his face. You see him curled up in bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair. You hear him tell you how happy he is. How glad that he found you.

It’s a beautiful life. Even if it’s not the one you imagined for yourself. And in that moment, you decide that it doesn’t matter what the test says. If that’s your future, so be it. 

As long as you get to live it with him.

“So?” Harry calls from the hall.

You swallow thickly and slowly glance down.

Negative.

Negative.

No baby. No pregnancy. No white-picket fence.

You stare at the test for at least a full minute. You aren’t sure how you feel. Relieved. Disappointed. Upset. Thankful. Confused.

“Tink?”

You turn around. “Uh…it’s negative,” you report, handing it to him. “False alarm. I guess I’m just late.”

He glances over the stick with a rather blank expression before looking at you. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. This is definitely the better outcome. I’m just…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the idea.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, handing it back. “I know.”

You throw the test away. “Sorry for making you come all the way over here for that.”

“Hey, whoa—” He strides into the bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’d be here.”

“I just…I wasted your time. I should have taken it before I called you—”

“Tink,” he sighs, taking your cheeks in his hands. “Stop. You can always call me for shit like this.” He looks at you, then amends, “You can always me. For anything. You know that.”

A tear slips from your eye without warning, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. This is what I wanted—”

“I know,” he says gently. “I know. It’s hard.”

“Yeah.” You hiccup. “But this is good, right? This is better?”

For a moment, he says nothing. He simply stares at you with a rather sympathetic expression. Or maybe it’s forlorn. Maybe he’s disappointed. Upset that you aren’t giving him what he wants.

Then, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “This is good,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “We would have figured it out. And you would have been a wonderful mom. But I know you. And I know you aren’t ready. Not yet.”

You close your eyes and melt into the feel of his palms against your skin. Into the way he reassures you and protects you all in the same breath. You never thought you’d feel so safe in the serenity of his touch, but here you are. Wishing for him to hold you forever.

“And when we are ready, we’ll do it on our terms,” he says. “Okay?”

Slowly, you nod. “This is good,” you repeat to yourself. “It is. Really. Things are going great at work, I’m finally secure financially, and even you and I are…kind of getting along.”

He smirks.

“This is good. This is better.” You repeat the mantra until you really believe it. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been a very good pregnant woman anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’d be really cranky. Or needy. My ankles would get all swollen and I’d be hot all the time and nauseous and miserable. I’d probably try to kill you.”

“Oh, you’d definitely try to kill me. You try to kill me even when you aren’t pregnant.”

You gasp. “Rude.”

“What?” He chuckles again before his eyes slowly start to rake down your frame. “But I don’t know. I think it’ll be better than you think.”

You swat him again. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to picture it.”

“Why? I told you, you’d look fucking hot.”

“Yeah…no.”

However, he only nods, moving in to subtly brush his lips against yours. “You would. Be so fucking beautiful carrying our baby. With your tits all swollen and your belly getting bigger every day.”

Truthfully, the image almost makes you grimace, but there’s something about the way he says it. The way he talks about you so reverently. A soft, sultry murmur that goes straight to your cunt. Because you know he’s not just saying it to say it. He means it. Believes it. Would do anything for it.

He tilts your head back, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And I think you like it,” he exhales. “I think you like the idea of holding me inside you. Having a part of me. Knowing that I did it to you. No one else.”

You suck in a soft breath, knees going just a bit weak. “Harry…”

“What, baby?” His mouth ghosts along your neck. “Are you thinking about it? Thinking about how pretty your tummy would look with me inside it?”

He’s evil. Absolutely evil, and you clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain control of yourself. “Do you…have a pregnancy kink I don’t know about?” 

His lips quirk up. “Apparently.”

“Mm.” Your lashes flutter and the urge to kiss him grows stronger. “You know…some women get really horny when they’re pregnant.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle it.”

He scoffs. “Oh, no?”

You shake your head. “I mean, do you really think you could keep up? Going for hours and hours on end? Trying to keep me satiated with your poor, limp little dick?”

He makes another noise, and you tsk.

“I mean, you can barely satisfy me now as it is. But if I was pregnant? Pfft. Forget it.”

Instantly, he’s snatching hold of your hips and yanking you against his chest. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Princess,” he nearly growls. “I’ll bend you over right now.”

“No, I don’t think you will,” you retort. “You’ve gone soft on me. Rubbing my back, kissing my hair. You wanna take care of me and honestly? It’s a little pathetic.”

His head cocks rather deviously and your pulse begins to skip. He could split you in half if he wanted to and you both know it. 

But that’s what you need right now. You don’t want to be coddled or looked after. You wanna be fucked. Tortured and teased until you’re begging for release.

You want an escape.

And in that moment, Harry decides to give you one.

He picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom while your legs quickly work to hook to his hips for stability and your arms snake around his neck.

He ignores your squeals and teasing huffs of annoyance, instead dropping you onto your mattress with a soft thud.

You glare and push up onto your elbows. “You know, you don’t have to manhandle me—”

“Shut up.”

He surges forward, lips gliding against yours as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. And kissing is easy with him. As easy breathing, like you’ve done it all your life. You know exactly what he likes, what he wants. And you give it him.

His glasses are cold against your face, keeping him from getting as close as he’d like, and after a moment, he huffs, and rips them off before tossing them aside. And even though you adore when he wears them, you happen to adore being near him even more.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, scratching down his neck. He has the added advantage of being on top, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from turning to putty in your hands. Clay for you to mold to your liking. 

No matter how dominant he tries to be, he’s simply a man that needs to be told what to do. Taken care of. Shown. 

And you happen to like showing him.

You feel him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathes between carnal nips to your throat. “I want this off, Tink.”

Happy to oblige, you push him back so you can lift yourself up before you peel the fabric from your chest. You take your time with the bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms oh so slowly. You don’t rush to reveal yourself to him, instead letting him anticipate you. Until his heart is racing and his eyes are darkening and he’s resisting the urge to do it himself.

But once he can finally see you, he nearly groans. “Oh, good fucking girl.” 

He resumes his work. More kisses are left to the warm, tender skin, and he happily sucks bruises into each swell and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue. His hands are greedy—ravenous. Pulling at your flesh, clawing his way along your frame. 

When he reaches your thighs, you whimper. You’ve missed the way he touches you. The way he pries your legs apart and makes a home between.

In a rush, he snaps your panties off into his fist and you toss him a punishing glare.

He smiles.

You rid each other of your remaining clothes in a frantic fashion until they’re nothing more than a dirty pile on the floor. Messy and familiar. Fated.

He drops down onto the bed back first, effortlessly swapping positions as you’re placed in a straddle over his waist.

“Good girl, let me see you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your jaw. “Go ahead.”

You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, running it along your cunt before teasing yourself with the tip. 

“Didn’t stretch you,” he mumbles, leaving a few stray kisses to your collarbone. “S’might hurt, so—”

You push him in, simultaneously sinking down in an effort to feel a more prominent burn., and you both make a rather lewd noise as the grip on your chin tightens.

“Tink,” he hisses with a punishing look of his own. “Careful—”

You drop yourself further, muscles tensing around the thickness until your thighs begin to shake.

“Hey—” He forces your eyes on his. “Enough. Be gentle, m’not gonna hurt you—”

“I want you to,” you pant. “Please. I need it. I…fuck, Har, I need it. Please…please.”

He’s still frowning but his expression softens. “Baby…not like this. Maybe we should wait until you’re feeling better—"

“No,” you whimper. Desperate. Fraught. “Harry, please, don’t stop. Don’t make me stop—”

“Hey, easy, easy.” He pulls your forehead to his. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

You try to obey. Try to suck in a strangled gasp of air but it’s useless. He’s gonna take himself from you. He’s gonna leave, and you’ll be empty, and alone, and maybe he won’t ever touch you again—

He places his palm on your chest, right over your heart. “Breathe,” he says again. Soft. Quiet. “In then out. Good girl, just like that.”

You follow the sound of his voice. Mimic his inhales and exhales until the two of you fall into a synchronized rhythm. 

“Good,” he says again, rubbing his other hand along your back. “There you go. You’re all right, I’ve got you. Yeah?”

Weakly, you nod. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…I—”

“Shh.” He kisses your nose. “You’re okay, Tink. I know.”

A long moment passes before you finally feel in control of your own heart again and once you blink the fog from your eye, you see him. Delicate and strong at the same time.

He sweeps his thumb along your lip. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you admit. “Really, I just…I needed to feel you. And I wanted to…move on, I guess. Think about something else. Lose myself for a bit.”

He sighs but nods his understanding. “You could have told me that.”

“I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing things with you.”

“I know,” he echoes with a small grin. “But we’ll learn, yeah?”

Your gaze grows suspicious. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he says simply. “If we’re gonna make a bunch of hot, smart babies one day, we’re gonna have to communicate.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, that won’t be for a while.”

“Fine. Just gives us more time to practice.”

Your eyes narrow. “You really have gone soft on me, haven’t you? All because you thought I was pregnant."

He laughs, fingers slipping around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. “I’d argue I’m actually quite hard right now.”

“Ha. Funny.”

“I can hate you and like you at the same time, right?” he teases. “Because I think that’s my sweet spot. Wanting to kill you and fuck you all at once.”

“Agreed. You’re insufferable but you’re also one of my favorite people. Which only makes you more insufferable.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I think we earned a little civility, no?”

You nod and take his lip between your teeth. “And I think we should celebrate with an orgasm.”

He laughs again. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

You dance your kisses down his chest, enjoying the way his head drops back while he sighs at the feel of your tongue. He’s so beautiful and so good and if you’re going to lose yourself, you want to lose yourself in him.

Leaning back, brace your hands behind you on his knees, and start to bounce yourself on his cock. Over and over, faster and faster, until he’s grabbing onto your hips and giving them a firm, encouraging squeeze to help you along.

Your tits bounce right in his face, and he takes advantage of his front row seat, allowing his hands to trace and tease your nipples as you whine. He sucks them into his mouth and pulls them with his teeth. It sends chills along your spine and goosebumps along your arms and when he notices, he smirks.

 Not even a minute later, he’s pulling you down so your chest meets his. His hands land on your ass with a firm grip and he drags you along his cock. Slow and sensual until your eyes flutter shut, and you disappear into the building pleasure.

You feel his kisses on your ribcage as he begins to thrust up into you. Returning to the pace you previously set until you’re both chasing that familiar high. 

“There you go,” he praises through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah, just like that—”

“Harry,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his hair. “Shit, please—”

“I know.” He leaves another kiss to the inside of your arm before he smacks your left ass cheek. “I got you, Princess. S’okay. Keep going.”

You grind yourself over his lap, knees hugging his waist as you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Needy. Anxious. You match each other’s rhythm and it’s a dance. An effortless fluidity that brings you closer than ever before.

Then, he sucks two fingers into your mouth, and moves them between your cheeks. He grazes them over your tighter hole, gently teasing them over the other entrance before dropping them down to where his cock is fucking into your cunt. He plays with you a bit, pushing you just a bit closer while you wail—depraved—and beg for more.

“My good girl,” he praises. He spanks you again. “Fuck—that’s it, baby.”

Your staccato whimpers are consistent now. One for every thrust and you can almost taste his desperation as he turns his head in order to kiss your cheek. The sound of skin against skin is crude and delicious. The way your body slides against his. Like butter on a hot day, melting together.

He goes faster, pulls you harder. Fingers digging into your skin so hard it almost hurts. But in the best possible way. In turn, you brace yourself with a palm on his throat. Squeezing it tight as you start to get closer. 

“Yeah,” he groans. “Shit…harder—”

You obey, pinching the sides of his neck until his eyes roll back. 

You can feel his heart racing against yours. You’re both warm. Hot. Shaking. A tangled mess of limps and depraved grinding like animals in heat.

“M’almost…m’almost there,” you whisper.

He nods, looking down your body to watch the way your ass bounces in his hands. “Go. S’okay, go. Let me feel you.”

He leaves more kisses to your side and the tender way his lips feel against your skin makes your brain go fuzzy. 

You grip his throat a bit tighter and just like that…it’s over.

The two of you cum together, the room filling with moans and gasps and promises. He settles beneath you while you ride out the rest of your high but he makes sure to keep his arm around you through every second.

Once you finally catch your breath, he hums. “God-fucking-damn.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns to see you. “I think I’m pregnant.”

You roll your eyes with a swat to his chest but you’re laughing. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you still like me.”

“I never said that.”

“You said I’m your favorite person.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.”

“Right.” He helps you ease him out before he’s flipping you around and moving himself between your legs.   

You blink. “What the hell are you doing?”

He lifts two fingers and eases them along your swollen pussy. Collecting the white, sticky substance already leaking out before easily pushing it back in.

“Harry,” you scold. “I think we’ve had enough breeding for one day.”

He smirks. “Relax, Tink, m’not breeding you. I just…like to see it drip out.”

Your heart leaps. “…oh.”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh in order to watch. “S’always so fucking pretty.”

You reach down and card your fingers through his sweaty curls. Happy and content for the first time in days.

He looks up. “One day,” he promises, even though it sounds more like a question.

But somehow, in this moment, it makes everything else worth it.

You grin.

“One day.”

AAA I can’t believe we finally did it!! I’m not gonna lie them being soft with each other is gross 😭 BUT ALSO CUTE!! YAY PROGRESS!!

Thank you so much for reading and for always being so nice!! 🥹💞💞 and of course thank you for the amazing idea hehe

Also, if you see any mistakes……no you don’t 🫶

~  Full 404 Masterlist

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[paarksunghoon]

DEEP HONEY | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: the last thing you want to do is interrupt sunghoon’s time with his friends, but your doting boyfriend has always said he’ll be there whenever you need him. when a shift at work leaves you hanging by a thread, he and his friends are there to patch your soul back up.

NOTES: felt some type of way and naturally i need a hug from sunghoon. best i can do is write about it.

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: angst, typical rough day stuff and typos, probably.

MASTERLIST

***

Your car comes to a complete halt when you situate yourself on the curb of Lee Heeseung’s apartment. The rumble of the pavement beneath your tires ceases to amplify the slight movement that naturally shakes your car seats and you sit in the driver’s side like you’re a zombie.

The muggy atmosphere from the heat attempting to displace the freezing air makes your skin feel sticky and gross as you turn your engine off. The overhead lights temporarily blind you as you stare ahead into the dark night and feel the tension building up in your body.

Your jaw clenches and your cheeks become warm with the sheer amount of frustration seeping into your bones. The cold sweat you harbor makes you feel hot and freezing at the same time. The coolness of your glass window does nothing to quell your body’s temperature.

The familiar two-story house beside you is where Heeseung lives. He rents the bottom property and has lived with Park Jongseong ever since you all collectively started the last year of university.

You don’t necessarily want to be here. Coming to Heeseung’s apartment because you feel like you might combust at any minute seems like an invasion of privacy. Your boyfriend Sunghoon had let you know that he was sleeping over at his friends’ apartment tonight and you had no qualms with the proposition. He deserved to have his time with his friends too. Although it seems that your mind has its own agenda and you find yourself in front of Heeseung’s place in no time.

You step out of the car and lock it. Your feet carry you around the hood and you step onto the hard sidewalk with a slight wobble. The air is chilling, throwing a stark shiver down your spine as you huddle in your arms for warmth. The jacket you have sprawled on the backseat looks at you with concern.

You’re a step away from ringing the doorbell but your finger hovers the white button as tears well up in your eyes. The feeling of desperation and burden weigh on your chest as you listen to the muffled laughter that comes from Heeseung’s living room. Sunghoon hadn’t seen his friends in a few weeks between classes, work, and you. The last thing you want to do is impede on his time with his friends when you’ve spent the better half of this month glued to his side.

But you can’t help it. Your nose feels like it could be burning from the cold and the weather forces you to ring Heeseung’s doorbell when it ripples through your shirt. You hear him padding to the front door and can make out his figure from the bottom, his shadow blocking the light from inside.

Heeseung opens it just slightly ajar to assess who’s standing outside his apartment at this late hour. When he opens it, seeing you standing in the cold with red eyes and no jacket makes him panic.

“Y/N?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

You think he might close the door with the look of confusion on his face but he opens it wider to allow you into his apartment. He shuts it quickly behind him and notices your chattering teeth, eyes softening at the sound when you look up at him. Heeseung watches your eyes begin to water and puts a hand on your upper back to soothe your emotions, but it makes you spill a few tears.

“I-I’m sorry for coming here,” you hiccup. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. You can always come over if you need something.”

You speak faster than you can think. “Today was so awful.”

Heeseung purses his lips and tells you to stay put. You watch him retreat into the living room and stare at the wall clock in front of you until you hear Heeseung say, “Hoon, your girl’s here.”

Sunghoon hears the worry in his friend’s voice because he stands up from the couch like he’s on a mission. With his eyebrows furrowed and heart beating in his chest, Sunghoon follows Heeseung to the front door and is immediately presented with you.

You look nothing like the happy-go-lucky girlfriend he said goodbye to before heading over to Heeseung’s. This morning, you’d woken up next to Sunghoon and he’d given you a tender kiss before heading to spend the day with his friends. Now, your eyes are swollen and your cheeks are stained with salty tears.

His heart plummets when he sees you standing in Heeseung’s doorway with no jacket on. You look helpless in a way he doesn’t see very often. Your knees buckle in your pants and the goosebumps on your arms are prominent to his eye.

Sunghoon wastes no time and envelopes you in a hug, pulling you into his chest until your face is situated in his neck.

“Baby?” he asks, feeling your hot breaths against his skin. “Talk to me. What happened? You’re so cold. Where’s your jacket? Did you bring one?”

His deep, honey-like voice that utter sweet concern only makes you cry harder. You try to keep your chokes and sobs as quiet as possible but the hiccups emitting from your throat make it impossible. You try to ignore the fact that Sunghoon’s friends can likely hear you weeping, instead focusing on your boyfriend’s warmth.

His arms encircle your body, one hand protectively around your waist and the other secured behind you. Sunghoon’s hands cup the back of your head and he strokes his fingers through your head lovingly.

“I had a bad day.” Your broken whispers makes Sunghoon’s heart sink even further. He pushes your hair out of the way and kisses your temple with plump lips.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rethinking the events that led to your arrival at Heeseung’s place only fuels your tears and you shut your eyes, burying yourself further into your boyfriend’s neck.

Heeseung, helplessly standing around the corner, walks closer to tell him the two of you could use his bedroom. Sunghoon rubs the small of your back and slowly walks towards the room, guiding you inside without so much as a word spoken. Heeseung closes the door behind you two and Sunghoon immediately perches the two of you on the edge of his bed.

“My baby.” Sunghoon lifts your head and pushes the tears underneath your eyes away with the pads of his thumbs. “What’s got you upset, hm? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you choke. “I’m not hurt.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Sunghoon pulls you into his chest and further onto Heeseung’s bed when you give into him. He lets you cry against him, not caring that his shirt is becoming damp as the seconds pass by. His palm soothes the entirety of your back and he kisses the crown of your head, periodically squeezing you tighter when his heart breaks at the sound of your sobs.

“Life is so hard,” you say into his chest. “I feel overwhelmed and scared.”

“Scared of what, baby?”

“I don’t know. Everything? I had the worst shift at work today. A customer ordered a hot coffee but I made it iced by accident and instead of letting me remake it for her, she involved my manager and was making a scene in front of everybody there.”

“I’m sorry.” Sunghoon whispers against your temple and kisses it again. “That’s frustrating.”

“My manager tried to get her to leave but she was pushy. Usually I could handle that but I’m overwhelmed with school and my senior project that I just broke down when the manager sent me home.”

“Your manager doesn’t think you’re at fault, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Nothing like that. He said I looked like I needed some rest and told me to take the rest of the night off.”

“Thank God.” He squeezes you tighter. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. You shouldn’t have to put up with mean people who get mad at you for making a small mistake.”

“Everybody is so fucking mean, Hoon.” You roughly push away the tears from your eyes with the heel of your palm. “I’m tired of everybody expecting so much from me. Between work, school, and my parents asking me what job I’ll have after graduating, it’s all too much.”

Sunghoon coos. “You’re so precious, you know that? You’re dealing with so much and you’re allowed to cry about it. I’m sorry everything is affecting you like this.”

“Sorry for ruining your boys night,” you sniffle. “I feel awful that I took you away from your friends.”

Your boyfriend shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. I’d come to you in a heartbeat if you called.”

His words only make you cry harder. Sunghoon is the perfect boyfriend. He dotes on you like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved in his entire life and lets you know how beautiful you are any chance he gets. He gets along with your friends and family, welcomes you into his own life, and makes you feel like you can achieve anything whether he’s in the picture or not.

Being with him has made you feel safer than you have in a long time. His arms provide the kind of comfort you’ve always been seeking and despite the amount of frustration and sadness in your body, it seems to be melting away with every kiss Sunghoon puts on your forehead.

Heeseung knocks gently and opens the door just slightly. You feel silly being held like a baby in front of Sunghoon’s friends who you’ve met only once before. It was at Heeseung’s house that you first met the three guys Sunghoon is closest to after they made an effort to invite you over to a night at the local dive bar before coming back to watch a marathon of Marvel movies. Your love for Iron Man catapulted the start of your friendship with Heeseung in particular and Sunghoon was starting to love how well you fit into his life.

“It’s been a while and I wanted to check in. You doin’ okay?”

You sniffle and hold onto Sunghoon’s arm. “Bad day. Everybody sucks.”

Heeseung laughs. “Preaching to the choir.” You immediately realize you neglected to take your shoes off when entering the apartment and scold yourself for bringing dirt onto his hardwood floors.

“Shit,” you say, pulling your legs higher so they’re farther from the surface. “I’m so sorry Heeseung. I’m sorry for barging in.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Take them off, I’ll put them by the door.”

You oblige. Sunghoon holds you to balance your body as you hand each sneaker to Heeseung, who doesn’t look at you weirdly or scold you for interrupting his time with your boyfriend. Instead, he smiles at you and lets you know Jongseong and Sim Jaeyun, another one of Sunghoon’s friends that you met during the movie night, are outside and concerned for you.

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” Sunghoon tells you as Heeseung closes the door behind him for a second time. “But they really like you and I know they care about you.”

“I only met them once,” you hiccup, toying with the hem attached to the bottom of his shirt. “How could they possibly like me?”

Sunghoon laughs and kisses your cheek. “I talk about you all the time. I’m pretty sure they’re sick of hearing me talk about you and would rather hang out with you instead.”

“You do?”

He nods. “Mhm. I have the best girlfriend in the world, you know. They had a lot of fun getting to know you and were planning on inviting you to a barbecue Jongseong’s having next weekend.”

“Really?”

Your doe-like eyes makes Sunghoon’s heart melt. He nods and kisses your nose. “Yes, baby. They love you. Not as much as I do, but a close second.” Hearing you laugh makes him breathe easier.

“I still feel bad for ruining your guys’ night,” you say with a pout.

Sunghoon eases your mind and presses a tender kiss to your lips to displace said pout. “We’ve all been there. If you’re uncomfortable, we can go back to your place and sleep?”

You shake your head. “This is your night. I don’t want to interrupt and make things awkward.”

“Why don’t we at least get you some water. You don’t have to say anything but at least drink something so you’re not dehydrated.” You don’t want to get up and face the embarrassment of the other three boys seeing you cry, but you know Sunghoon is right. After all the crying you’ve done, you’re feeling parched.

You nod and stand from him, all while he still has one hand in yours. Moments like this make you appreciate Sunghoon even more than you already do. He’s willing to do anything for you at the drop of a hat and it gives you butterflies when you remember this handsome, generous man is your boyfriend.

Jongseong and Jaeyun look at you with concerned eyes when you meet them outside. You try to speak but your mouth keeps opening and closing as you find the words to say.

“I’m okay,” you tell them. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Jongseong hands you a glass of water. “Don’t sweat it, Y/N. Everyone has bad days.”

“Yeah, but you guys haven’t seen Hoon in forever and this was supposed to be your weekend.” Your sincere apology and the cracks in your voice make Jaeyun’s eyes water too.

“It’s alright,” he tells you sincerely. “We love hanging out with you. You should stay and we can watch movies. We were gonna do that anyway.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Jongseong and I want you to stay,” Heeseung says. The two of them nod. “You shouldn’t be alone when you feel like this.”

“Fuck,” you say, voice cracking to the point where it makes you laugh. The four boys laugh as well and feel the relief in the air around them. “You guys are too nice.”

“We were gonna order takeout too,” Jongseong says, pulling his phone out. “We were thinking maybe fried chicken but Hoon says you love Thai food. Why don’t we order stuff from the place around the block and eat it family style?”

“Oh, you don’t have to change it for me.”

Jongseong waves you off. “Nah. We all love Thai. Any excuse to eat it.”

“And don’t think about paying us back,” Jaeyun says with a genuine smile. “I’ll pay for it.”

“We’ll split it by four,” Heeseung adds.

Jongseong lets you put in your order and everybody else follows suit. Sunghoon has you tucked underneath his chin as the whole ordeal happens and kisses the side of your face every so often.

“Feel better?” He asks, mouth against your ear. His warm breath is comforting, as to remind you that he’ll always be there for you.

“Much better.” Your voice is no longer brittle from your cries. Sunghoon smiles.

“My sweet baby,” he coos. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“What about when I’m not crying?”

“Still pretty.” He squishes your cheeks with his hands and pressed a kiss to your fattened lips. “Adorable, even.”

Jaeyun looks at the two of you and laughs. He can only hope that he’ll feel like that with someone someday. It compels him to say something.

“You guys are stupid cute.”

Sunghoon says nothing. He smiles at his friend and squeezes you tighter. Having him to lean back on makes you feel like you might be the luckiest girl in the world.

***

comments and reblogs would be appreciated! xx

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mentions of sex , profanity , crying , angst

୨୧˚ an; does anyone even care about this anymore LMDOAOO but for real, i’m sorry for how late this part got out. i am battling severe writers block it is dangling me by the BAWLLSSS,, im thinking that this series is coming to a close soon and i never meant for it to get this deep but here we are 🦝 thank you all for being so patient with me i lob you

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

There was something about thunderstorms that Toji always felt drawn to. They were great; overbearing in a way, rolling through and burying a perfectly fine day under gallons of rainwater and gray skies. Authoritative, condemning humans to take shelter lest they wish to drown in its fruits. Suffering the consequences; soaked-through clothes and sopping hair. He watches the pane of glass at the roof, a skylight barred into the flat of your high rise ceilings. The rain storm had reduced it into nothing but a drab, dusty square, baring the pelts of precipitation like punishment. Toji holds you in your bed. Your weight drapes across his chest like a blanket, your head tucked beneath the cut of his chin.

“Do you like the rain, Toji?”

He felt naked, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. The silken sheets that wrap your mattress were unfamiliar against this flesh, cold and slippery. Regretting the forfeit of pajamas. You two had shared a shower after dinner, of which you held him with all the sentiment in the world. Toji fucking hates when people stand at his back. He doesn’t like it, feeling a presence before seeing them. But he let you stay centimeters behind, working peach and ginger scented shampoo into the roots of his scalp. When he was a boy and his mother had yet to find a place in the Zenin's private graveyard, he vaguely remembers receiving analogous strokes of care from the only family member in his life who didn’t see him as a filthy disgrace. Mom bathed him like this, scrubbing blood and tarnish from his cheeks with a threadbare handkerchief in that tin can he called a tub. All that fucking family money, but a new washcloth or a proper bathtub was never in the cards for him. He remembers mom apologizing often when she washed him.

Toji fucked you in the shower. A difficult means of having sex, sure, but slippery surfaces and soap in the eyes weren’t enough to quell that undying twist of hunger. So he took you against the sleek porcelain wall with his hands shelving beneath the curve of your ass and your legs constricting at his waist. You guided him to a quick orgasm with spouts of hushed praises spoken to his ear; he was certain you didn’t cum, didn’t feel that cute clench you did the first night you two slept together, but you lied and told him you did with a reassuring grin. Why did you lie?

“It’s fine, I guess.” A hand caressed your thigh, the one that was slung over and hiked up onto his stomach. Toji grazed his nails over your flesh, mindless and dejected.

Thunder clapped, then lightning struck, and all Toji could think in the moment was about you and him. Together. Stark nude in bed with limbs entwined. He, the thunder; loud and fierce. Scary, enough to make little children and small animals shake and cower in the corner with fear. You’re more like lightning, he supposes. Elegant and powerful, something so naturally beautiful. 

You will hear thunder and remember me.

More thunder boomed. Toji squeezes your body tighter. “I like that.”

“Like what?” He asks.

You trace wobbly circles against his collar bone, avoiding the slices of silvery skin that raised off the plain of skin. Scars, Toji was doused in gauges. Scraped up head to toe, and he could feel your eyes dart lazily between each and every one of them. “I like the thunder,” comes your reply, followed by a small, bashful shrug. “Ever since I was a kid.”

Toji scoffs. Fuckin’ mind reader. “Liar. Nobody likes thunder.”

“Don’t call me a liar,” you slap his cheek playfully. “I mean it. The quiet can be disturbing sometimes. But to me, thunder is so… human-like? Makes me forget I’m alone.”

This has the man tossing his head back against your feathered pillow. “You’re so full of shit.”

Another stroke of brooding thunder rapped against the window like knock, and if Toji was a believer in the Gods above, he’d curse every last one of them for their shitty comedic timing. You’re giggling into his neck; Toji can feel warm puffs of breath fan over his pulse point. “See?” You ask through a grin. “He came back to yell at you.” He, referring to the crack of thunder. Toji rolls his eyes. Leaves a pinch at your thigh.

“Hey, what did you say before?” Toji walked his fingertips down the curve of your spine, stopping just above your ass. “The fuckin’—the french thing?”

How did it go again? Tu mas something?

It took a moment for you to decipher what he was talking about.

“Tu m'as manqué, Toji?”

Toji bit down on the tip of his tongue, stifling a smile at the grandeur in which you held when speaking the delicate French language. He nods, “what’s it mean?” 

“Means ‘I miss you’.” Is he melting? Liquifying into a disgusting puddle beneath your prying palms, soaking into the bed sheets. You lament over his absence, spitting such pure genuine inflections that Toji is inclined to believe you when you tell him just how much you missed his unlawful presence. Like a stray dog that you offhandedly feed every now and again, praying for its safe and soon return back on your doorstep, digging into the leftover scraps of meat you’ve so kindly plated on the stoop. He’s that washed-up, flea ridden, unabashedly feral mutt that can’t help but crawl back to the idea of home. “I missed you. A lot.”

Toji doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so vulnerable. Not even in the throes of passion when he’d had you spread and wet for him did you sound like this. Small and volatile, yet self-assured all the same. How the fuck do you manage to balance such contrasting notions? A witch, you must be something of the sort. 

There’s a gap of longing silence that fills the room; Toji concludes that you wait for him to return the gesture. So he does, “I did, too.” It’s the cold, hard truth, and he gives it to you on a silver platter. “Thought about you.”

And he’d leave that there. It was a much sweeter sentiment than to admit that he thought about you particularly often in those bloody showers with his hand wrenched around his hard on. Leaves much room for you to wonder. 

You hum. 

More quiet. He is fond of the quiet moments with you. 

“This looks fresh.” Ruined peace. He feels your thumb pad prod ever so gently at the teared flesh of his pec, the same one you used as your own personal pillow. It was inflamed, red and angry unlike the plethora of other battle scars which have now faded into a cooler pinkish tone with time. You were right; it was new. Nothing but a little switchblade slash—one of the men Toji had decimated this past week was armed. It was a careless mistake, one that had no real impact or effect, Hell, he barely felt the paper cut. But it impacted you, he noticed. “Does it hurt?” A fingertip whispers over the wound, and he flinches. 

Not because it’s painful, but because your gingerness made him sick to his stomach. Never more than in this moment did Toji feel so guilty for accepting your tender touches, wishing to holy Hell his conscience would allow him to bite his tongue. To let you keep thinking of him as some down-on-his-luck middle aged man with a shit job and no money to his name. 

“Don’t touch,” it’s quick, the way he snatching your wrist. Sturdy bone crushed under the bruising grip of his shaky fist. He didn’t mean to grab you so roughly. You’re taken aback by the outburst. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a meager apology that doesn’t sound right spilling from your lips. It’s trembly and skittish, and your eyes widen coquettishly to flit between his face and the iron-clad grip that joins you together. “I’m—I should’ve asked you first.”

His breathing pattern was off its axis. Shit, shit what is he doing? Toji let’s go, flinching his hand far from your arm like you burned him. He shakes his head. “Didn’t mean to grab you, I didn’t mean to.” Toji pushes up from the warmth of your bed—from the warmth of you—and scans the floor for his boxers. 

You reluctantly part from him, gathering the blanket up over your chest as a makeshift barrier between bare flesh and the chilled air-conditioned bedroom. “What are you doing, Toji?” You sound sad. He finds his boxers. They’re balled up, discarded on the far end of your too-fucking-gigantic bedroom. “Toji!”

He keeps his back toward you, mechanically stepping into his underwear and dragging them up over his hips. It’s fucking gross, feeling the crunch of dried semen as the fabric contorts, but it’s ultimately ignored. “Thanks for dinner, you’re a fuckin’ A chef.” Toji spots his sweatpants nearby. 

“You got that new cut at work.” You’ve made a power move to ditch the comforter, stepping down into the carpet wearing nothing but your birthday suit. The tone of yours shifts, a steep incline from sweet and patient to demanding and accusatory, and Toji doesn’t like that one fucking bit. His sweatpants on, he tosses you a glance over his shoulder. 

“It was an accident.”

“Is that right?” Your brows furrow, gesturing to his torso. His marred, battered, abused torso. “Just covered in accidents then?”

Now he faces you, looks you in the eyes despite your naked form. “Pretty much.” Each lie tastes acidic, like that soupy bile he spits out before vomiting. “Thanks for dinner.” He makes an attempt to stalk past to the door, foregoing the shirt because he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. Probably lost in a forgotten corner of your room, and with the way his heart raced against his rib cage, Toji wasn’t sure he’d survive long enough in this stuffy room to find it. So he thanks you again with an air of finality, only to be stopped. Your hand is flat against the center of his chest, pressed over the beat of his heart. No doubt about it, he’s sure you can feel that manic tempo. 

Beat, beat, beat. 

“I really thought we were getting somewhere.” You start quietly, voice hovering just above a whisper. His eyes stay fixed on the tiny hand that has glued itself to his sternum. “I thought we… I thought… I don’t fucking know, okay?

I like you. I like you so much, Toji.”

I like you too. “I…” like you I like you I like you. 

“Don’t feel like you have to reciprocate anything. These are complicated feelings, I know that. It’s a lot to spring on a person, but it’s the truth. I’m giving you my truth, and I need you to do the same because I don’t know if I can take another week of you disappearing for however long only to return like… like this!” You gesture to the red gash. “I care about you, and I want to help you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, but you make it so fucking difficult.”

It felt as though every saliva particle had been vacuumed out of his mouth, leaving a dry desert plain for a tongue. He's never been so at a loss for words before, you actually rendered him speechless. Finally, finally, after a minute of gaping like a stupid fish out of water, Toji finds his bearings. 

“You’re a good person, Y/n.” He peels your hand off him. “And I’m not.” Toji moves to disconnect hands, but yours follows him, clamping them back together. He can’t find the strength to let go, knowing good and well that his palm was clammy as shit. 

Your brows pinch, knitting with confusion at the seemingly random proclamation. “I mean, sure you can be kind of a dick sometimes, but I don’t think—”

You don’t understand. So unscathed by the bleakness of this world, your definition of a bad person is someone who’s ’kind of a dick sometimes.’ Toji’s frown deepens, and he shakes his head, bangs bouncing with the movement. Your fancy conditioner made his hair feel soft against his forehead. “That’s surface level shit. You don’t understand what I’ve done.” 

“So tell me—”

“I can’t.” The word cracks in his throat, and he coughs around it. Choking on it like he did your pretty fingers in the kitchen. “Don’t you get that? If it was that easy…”

“Tell me.” Your voice grows calm, yet stern. Aggressive in the gentlest of ways, coaxing the truth to light. Arms crossed over your bosom, you jut a chin in Toji’s direction. “Because I’m really sick and fucking tired of you treating me like I’m incapable of comprehension. I’ll understand.”

You won’t. He knows you won’t. 

Time grows slow and thick like molasses; Toji feels caught in the midst of an unwinnable battle. Either direction he takes—to come clean, to dance around the truth some more, to lie—will only serve to worsen things to an unfortunate degree. He stalls. Scratches at his jagged jaw dusted with faint stubble. Then, he paws over the masculine plates of his abdomen, feeling his own flesh. There isn’t any warmth to him anymore. Every ounce of humanity had leaked from Toji’s soul, leaving him to become this cold, withering husk of a man. 

When his mouth finally peels open, it takes effort. Like his teeth had been welded together by one of those chewy caramel-coated candies Shiu keeps in his glove compartment. 

“I’m a killer.”

A strange sensation splashed over Toji. Maybe it was relieving to finally share that tidbit of himself, to get his shame out in the open and off his chest. His shoulders felt a little lighter, his joints felt a little looser. This high didn’t last forever, though, and soon he was plummeting back down to Earth when your horror-stricken voice shook in his ears. 

“That’s not a funny joke.”

“Wouldn’t joke. Not about that.” He swirls the built-up saliva in his mouth.

Your eyes were wide, never leaving him. “You… you kill people? For money?”

Begrudgingly, “yes.”

You sputter. “How do you expect me to believe something so—so unimaginable?” Your brows sewed themselves, drawn close in absolute bewilderment. Hinging on the cusp between puking and laughing in his stupid face. “This is insane, Toji.”

He scoffs quietly. “Ain’t fuckin’ lying woman.” No saccharine ma’am. “Wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I had to fight to live.” A low blow, but you didn’t seem to take it to heart, far too distracted by your own disturb. 

Toji wasn’t prepared for how much this was going to hurt. The disgusted way you looked at him, something you’d never ever done before, made him barely able to contain his quiver. He deserves every morsel of your animosity, but knowing he deserved it didn’t make it any less painful. Toji felt you scanning, analyzing every scar wedged into his torso. His arms. His neck. His face. He sees you making connections, noticing healed-over bullet wounds and knife attacks for what they were: hideous. He watches you make connections, visualizing a new scenario for each scar; for each life he’s taken and how they desperately fought back against him for mercy. Toji’s body bears the story of hundreds of deaths, and you look sick to your stomach at the realization of what he truly is. 

An ugly monster. 

“Oh my God.” You’re hushed, speaking to yourself. “How many people, Toji?”

He grimaced. “I lost count.”

“Oh my God…” Your hand is pressed to your hairline, and you look exasperated to all Hell. Crazed, maybe. As though he’d just rocked your entire world.

Toji interjects with unnecessary commentary. “I told you. I said you would never understand.”

“No, n-no I understand plenty.” Then, you smile, but it’s not one you’d ever bore to Toji before. It lacks any kindness. It’s empty and unloving. “You’re a murderer.”

He winces. Killer and murderer were synonymous, but for some odd reason being called a murderer was a different type of wrench to the gut. “Yeah.” Toji nods. For the right price, he has slaughtered, fucked, and even sold a few peripheral organs. Because money is everything. Money is food. Money is shelter. Money is life itself. But money isn’t you. 

“Get the fuck out of my home.”

You look terrified of him. Toji is frozen stiff.

“I said go! Fucking leave!” Suddenly, you're rushing to collect your crumpled outfit from the floor, feeding your limbs through the small pair of panties and that oversize bed shirt. Amongst the frenzy to get dressed, you snatch your phone from the bedside table and frantically scrawl over the screen with clumsy fingers. Toji sees tears track down your cheeks, they glint from the light emanating off the cellphone. “Or I’ll call the police.”

And turn in what evidence? He’s too good at what he does, Toji doesn’t leave paper trails behind. But he lets you think you have the power to get him in cuffs. You’re already so frightened, clinging to your phone with trembling hands.

“Go ahead. Call them.” His words are lifeless. Lifeless with a touch of irritation. Spat with malice because you would never understand the life he lives, despite how much you’ve preached to him that you would. You teased him, dangling this idea of a normal life in front of his face. One without lies and secrecy, just you and him and this almighty penthouse. This would more than likely be the last exchange between the both of you, the last time Toji would ever look you in the eyes again, and it angered him. All good things have expiration dates. “You know where I live.”

“Just… Fucking leave.” Christ, you were shaking like a leaf. Was it out of fear? Or anger, maybe? Probably a combination of both. Toji gets a few more seconds of stillness in, spent entirely on gulping down eyefuls of you. Even now, face twisted up and cheeks wet from tears, you look so fucking gorgeous. His savior, the one who showed him how to feel again. 

“Okay.” 

He collects himself, puts on a presence of nonchalant coolness. Like walking out of your bedroom wasn’t the most difficult thing he’s had to do in years. Never-minding the shirt, he walks to the door without sparing a glance back over his shoulder. 

Toji leaves. It’s raining, and he is shirtless and sopping wet. Thunder rumbles. 

You will hear thunder and remember me. 

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[earthtooz]

fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou

during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.

the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.

“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.

your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.

“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.

“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.

“were ya waitin’ for me?”

you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”

“almost nine.”

“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”

his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”

“it’s okay, i get it.”

“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.

“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“

“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”

bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-

“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.

when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.

but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.

and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.

bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.

he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.

if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.

you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.

the second time, you wake up confused.

the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.

you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.

then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.

"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.

next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.

you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.

"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"

"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.

"promise me you'll never do this again."

cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"

"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."

you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."

he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."

"that's not realistic."

"watch me."

"okay then, deal."

there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.

(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.

you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.

you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.

you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.

you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)

the third time, you cry too.

it's your wedding day.

when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.

it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.

up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.

more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.

thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.

a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.

"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."

you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.

"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.

"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.

"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."

"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"

"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."

"i didn't know you could be a poet."

"only for you."

"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."

"i'll always be yours."

you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."

"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."

"your tears are dangerous."

"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."

"like i said, i can't wait."

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀

NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for  around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!! 

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.

You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt. 

With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).

So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of. 

It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.

There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.

You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.

The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so. 

One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life. 

Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.” 

You mirror their gesture as well. 

As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is. 

An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case. 

Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor. 

You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time. 

As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.

“Hey,”

You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.

“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.

Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?” 

Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.

“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle. 

“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.

You reciprocate the hug he gives.

“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.

Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.

“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together. 

You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor. 

Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you. 

“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.” 

“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.

Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.” 

“No worries. Anytime.”

When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.

He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.

“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?” 

You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.

Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.” 

Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.

Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.

“When are you off?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”

Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?” 

“Yeah. Later.” 

The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.

“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.

“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.” 

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.” 

Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.” 

You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.

Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago. 

Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.

No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.

You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.

See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case. 

But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.

He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him. 

You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.

Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.

“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously. 

“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate. 

“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu. 

“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.

Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill. 

Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.” 

“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.

“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.” 

“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”

It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.

You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.

You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.

When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions. 

“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers 

Shoot.

You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.

Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there. 

But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake. 

How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!

Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.   

But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already. 

You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu

You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,

“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?” 

“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.

The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.” 

“Wha—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting. 

Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary. 

“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”

It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.

When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text. 

“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you. 

You don’t really know how that makes you feel. 

“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door. 

“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again. 

“I— huh?”

“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.

You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.

“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything. 

Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”  

But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.

You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app. 

A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.

You don’t really know why you’re here. 

It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay. 

So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside. 

Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.

It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird. 

Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.

Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that. 

You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual. 

You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open. 

“Hi.” You smile. 

“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.

“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?” 

You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”

Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”

“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.” 

He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.” 

“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?” 

Jungkook looks at you apologetically.

“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.” 

“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”

He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.” 

“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.” 

Jungkook grins.

“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies. 

“Okay, Anton Ego.”  

You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.

You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon. 

You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him. 

Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.

As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.

It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago. 

You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous. 

It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering. 

You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.

It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little. 

Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.

“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.

A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you. 

Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.” 

You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.

As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.

There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly. 

“__,” Sol calls beside you. 

“Huh?”

“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.

“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.

Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.” 

You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer. 

“Okay. Just text me.” 

You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office. 

Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.

12:10pm. 

Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.

You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.

But then again, he seems to be busy.

With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text. 

You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch? 

Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend. 

You receive a reply a few seconds after. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __  I’d love to

Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins

Oh. Okay. That tracks. 

You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊

You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria. 

When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure. 

You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.

Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.

You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.

For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.

You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.

They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.

“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”

“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”

The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.

“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.

“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”

You nod along to his words.

Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.

“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.

“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.

You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.

It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.

“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.

You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”

“What?”

“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.

“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”

Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.

“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”

“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”

“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.

“Did you document everything?”

Your response comes in a little curt.

“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”

Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.

“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”

When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.

Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”

Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.

He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”

“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.

He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.

“You and your jokes…”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”

You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.

“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”

Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.

Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—

��You can stay at mine for the night.”

You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.

You stare at him right back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He raised his brow.

“I can’t think of reasons right now.”

“You don’t need to think at all.”

You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.

Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.

“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”

Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”

“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.

Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.

There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.

“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.

“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”

You visibly wince at the mention of work.

He’s right and you kind of hate it.

“You’re right…” you say after a while.

“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.

You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”

“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”

You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”

Jungkook visibly stills.

“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”

You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.

“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”

He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.

You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.

Jungkook looks at you.

“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.

You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.

When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.

I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.

It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.

“__?”

You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Do you have clothes in there?”

At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.

With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”

You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”

It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.

When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”

He stops. And then you stop.

You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.

Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.

“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.

You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.

“T-thanks.”

Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.

You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.

Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.

But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.

When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.

It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.

But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.

You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.

When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.

“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.

“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.

You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.

The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.

Why was he naked?!

Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.

The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.

Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.

Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.

You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.

When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.

You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.

“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”

You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

You shake your head vigorously.

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.

“It’s your place.” You reason.

“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.

“But—”

Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.

He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.

You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…

“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”

You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.

When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”

You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?

But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.

“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.

“The temp’s fine.”

He hums and puts down the remote.

“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.

“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”

“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.

When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.

It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.

You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.

You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.

After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.

It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.

When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.

You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.

You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.

Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.

“Hey,”

“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.

When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.

Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.

“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.

From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.

Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.

“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”

He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.

You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.

When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.

“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.

“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”

“It’s okay, just sit there.”

You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.

Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.

“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.

“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.

You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.

“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.

“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”

“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”

“Okay… how about your stuff?”

As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.

You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”

Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

You look right back at him weird.

“You’re not serious.”

“When am I not serious?”

You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.

“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.

“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.

He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.

But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.

So you decide to joke a little.

“Probably not.” You tease.

Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.

“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”

“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”

“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.

It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.

“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”

You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”

“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.

You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.

“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.

“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.

Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”

“I don’t cook.” You point out.

“I already know that.”

You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”

Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”

“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”

“I can cook.” He chuckles.

“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”

He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

You sigh, out of reasons now.

“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”

Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”

“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.

That prompts you to put a frown on your face.

“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”

It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”

It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.

You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate. 

You give him a small salute.

Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast." 

You laugh at his squinted eyes. 

"I was going to say yes, anyway."

"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back. 

You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.

All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.

Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.

You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.

After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.

You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.

But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.

It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.

He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.

One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.

On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.

Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.

After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.

As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.

That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.

Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.

You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.

You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.

Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.

“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.

Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”

You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.

“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”

At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.

“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.

“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”

Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.

He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.

You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.

The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.

At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.

You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.

In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.

Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.

Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.

When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.

Jungkook.

The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.

It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.

When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.

But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)

     — Jungkook.

That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.

He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.

And you did not forget to say that either.

“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.

Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”

Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.

“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.

You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.

Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.

So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.

Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”

You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.

You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.

Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.

Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.

Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.

It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.

“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.

“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.

You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.

You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.

“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.

You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”

“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”

You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.

“What?”

“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.

“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”

Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.

“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”

You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.

When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.

After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.

You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.

“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.

“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.

After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”

“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.

“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.

“The X-Files. You know the show?”

“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.

You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”

“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”

“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.

You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.

“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.

Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.

“Hm?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”

Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”

“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”

“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”

“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”

“I know,” you chuckled.

You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.

Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.

“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.

He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.

You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.

When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.

You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.

There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.

You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.

And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.

You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.

But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

Again.

His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.

It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.

You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.

As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.

He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.

You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.

Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.

Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—

But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.

You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.

Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.

It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.

But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.

There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.

You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.

When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.

It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.

So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hmm…”

At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.

Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.

When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.

He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.

You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.

When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.

“Oh my god!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.

You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!

Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.

He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.

“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.

You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”

You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.

“We slept together.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.

“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.

Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”

“Oh?” You parrot back.

“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”

You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.

It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.

When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?

“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.

You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.

“Six thirty.”

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.

You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.

“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”

“Oh.”

He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.

“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.

“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”

“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.

You failed to do that, obviously.

Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.

After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.

Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.

Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.

“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”

You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”

Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”

That prompts you to laugh.

“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”

He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”

You nod in understanding.

You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.

As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.

“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.

You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.

You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.

“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.

Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”

“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”

“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”

“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”

Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”

Jungkook grins. “A dream.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”

Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.

“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.

A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.

“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”

You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”

Jungkook looks at you briefly.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.

He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”

Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!

“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”

“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”

Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.

“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”

You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”

You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.

“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.

“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”

Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”

You scrunch your face. “Me too.”

And then a beat of silence.

Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.

“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.

You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.

Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.

“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.

“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.

You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”

When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.

“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”

Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”

“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.

Jungkook bursts out in laughter.

“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”

“Are you?” You pout.

Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.

“Alright…”

You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.

“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”

“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”

“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”

Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”

He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.

“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.

You nod your head. His playful smile drops.

“Are you serious?”

You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”

He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.

“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”

You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.

“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”

Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.

“Oh.”

You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.

You grin. “Interesting insight.”

“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.

When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.

Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.

“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”

You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”

You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”

Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.

“How do you know her?”

“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.

Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”

You can’t help but let out a scoff.

“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”

He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”

“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.

It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.

Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.

But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.

“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”

The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.

But of what?

You shake off the idea in your head.

“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.

“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.

You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.

“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.

Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”

You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.

“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”

Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”

“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.

You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”

Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.

“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”

When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.

Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”

“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”

“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.

“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.

“Like all of them?”

“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.

“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”

You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.

Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”

“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”

You try to think about it.

“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”

Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”

You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”

It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.

But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.

But right now, his question feels real.

If he is flirting with you… do you like it?

You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.

Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.

“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.

You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”

He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.

“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.

“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.

“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.

You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.

You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.

“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.

“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.

Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.

It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.

Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?

“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.

That makes them part.

You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.

“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.

Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.

“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.

You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.

And you know Jungkook notices.

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.

His only response is a small, gentle hum.

A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.

You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.

It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.

You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.

When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.

“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.

You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.

It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.

“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”

“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.

“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”

You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I don’t mind.”

You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”

You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”

You giggle against his chest.

“Carry me before I pass out.”

Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”

“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.

“Fine.”

TAGLIST: @mortal-body-timelesssoul @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lachimolalajeon @miniesjams32 @parkinglot-nights @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aznstoner @chuberry22 @tae-hibiscus @jungkooksmytype

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all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[abd-illustrates]

YOU!! I DONT KNOW IF PEOPLE SEND ASKS ABOUT HEARTLESS ANYMORE BUT I RECENTLY RESURFACED BACK TO IT AND I JUST *EXPLOSION SOUNDS* /pos

BRO I cannot express to you how much I think about Doppel and Glass and their character concepts and their dynamic and just generally the story. Man, I don't know what it is about those two, but like...AJHSJHD!!

I really like thinking about angst and ways that you can make both of them complex and stuff, you know, separating from just "haha silly comic relief guys!" I like thinking about them and how their not the same, and how they're both technically separate beings kinda? And how they're different and stuff and AA-

ALSO I love they're character design man? Like, it looks...crunchy. that's probably a bad way to put it, but they feel like those sensory videos where people take wax and slime and crush it all up and its really satisfying and crunchy.

AUGH they're all so awesome and I love love LOVE thinking about Heartless as a story and how it would play out and stuff. Keep up the good work and stuff, sorry for word bombing you I just suddenly got a lot of feelings and had to get it out somewhere

sgssgfjsgh thank u so much for taking the time to send this ask dude!

Seeing any love for the Heartless gang always sparks more joy than I can convey, no matter when -- but ur timing is uncanny haha, these two have been on my mind a lot lately too! (Especially since the new Madds Buckley song dropped 'cause it's just sO--- 👀😩🤌)

I'm not very articulate rn but pls take this doodle as a big thank u for the encouragement and for sharing ur thoughts about 'em! 🪞💜

[jhdyuiee]

unconditional

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pairing: ex-bf!jaehyun x fem!reader

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ warnings/tags: smut!, angst (first day back & i’m breaking yall’s hearts, sorry!!!), unprotected sex, oral (f&m receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, cum eating, marking/biting, smacking, tit/breast play, making out/kissing, fingering, name calling (good girl) and pet names (love), jaehyun is jealous type, rough jaehyun, cliffhanger/mysterious ending (also sad)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ w.c: 2.7k

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ a.n: hi, jiji is back! hm, it’s been a while. in all honesty, this abrupt break i decided to take worked out in the end bcs school has been a big pain in the ass as of late & so writing has gotten hard. i also would like to apologize once more for honestly everything. however i am back now and yes, yes i know jaehyun leaves tomorrow… sigh, let’s just say that for now bcs if not i’ll start tearing up, lol. don’t forget to stay safe guys, i love you very dearly & thank you for waiting, i will be back with so much more! 🤍

the rain came pouring down hard and unexpectedly. you were not prepared for this at all, so you took shelter inside a cafe. you settled on waiting until the rain calmed down so you could go home.

staring at the gloomy weather made you rather gloomy as well. you never had fond memories of the rain, no dancing in the rain with your lover. instead, it was almost as if the rain brought your life some type of bad luck.

“y/n?” a male voice calls for you, causing you to turn.

your eyes widened, lips slightly parting at the person who stood in front of you.

“jaehyun?” you say lowly, low enough for the two of you to hear.

his face too changes, it’s almost like he’s trying to process it really was you who was in front of him. you took him in, noting how he hasn’t changed in the 5 years since you’d parted. in fact you’d say he got even more… hotter?

“it really is you,” he says breathlessly, to which you nod. “i-is the seat taken?” he asks as he points to the seat in front of you.

“n-no” you respond. he sits down, looking right at you.

“how have you been?” he starts off by asking.

“well… i-i suppose i’ve been fine. how about you?”

he thinks for a second before responding. “i could be better,” he says, chuckling. your heart nearly melting at the sight of his dimples, the very ones you used to adored.

he asks you more questions about how the past 5 years had gone, you too gaining insight on his past 5 years. there was never any mention if you or him were in a relationship during the past 5 years, it was almost like a forbidden topic.

you mindlessly turn to the window, noting how the rain had finally stopped but the clouds were still there. you didn’t know whether to leave mid-conversation or stay a while longer. it had been 5 years, 5 excruciating years without him… to leave him now was-

“are you going to leave?” his questions bring you back to him.

your mouth opens, then closes, and opens again but he interrupts. “don’t leave… not yet. instead, please stay with me for today y/n,” he asks.

you didn’t even hesitate, already settling on your answer before he even finished asking you. you two leave the cafe, you follow him walking alongside him under his umbrella. your head filled with the endless possibilities of how today could go and where the night would lead you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“y/n,” jaehyun whispers into your ear in a sultry tone.

your hot breath tickled his ear as your eyes interlocked with his lustful eyes. you wanted him, he wanted you. it had been so long since you’ve felt not only his touch, but a touch at all.

“can i?” he whispers as his eyes are on your lips. you nod, inviting him in.

his lips crash onto yours, melting together as they once used to. he started off gentle, almost as if he were testing the waters before involving the kiss into something more rough and filled with desire. it brought you back to the days of 5 years ago.

his hands traveled to the back of your head, tugging on your hair. his tongue fighting its way inside you until it began crashing with yours. you started feeling weak, legs almost giving out but he held you. he pressed you against the wall, body nearly melting into yours. you could feel his hardened member as it pressed against you.

you moaned into the kiss, trying to say his name. he tugged on your bottom lip, finally departing from your lips. your eyes watery, face feeling hot all over. your dazed gaze finding jaehyun’s lustful one. jaehyun groans before sinking onto his knees. you knew where this was going, so you helped him.

you began taking off your shirt, bra, and unbuttoning your jeans, taking them off. just as you were about to take off your panties, his hands stopped you. “just open your legs for me,” he says, to which you obliged.

jaehyun gives you one last look before disappearing in between your legs. you felt his lips nip and kiss on your inner thighs, making sure to mark you up. his wet tongue licks your already soaked panties, moaning when he gets a small taste of you. a taste he has been dying to have for 5 years.

sliding your panties to the side he licks your cunt up once, getting a full taste of you now. jaehyun almost swears he’s addicted to you again. “how i’ve missed this taste,” he moans, meeting your eyes again before diving back inside you.

his tongue swipes up your slit one more time before using his two thumbs to spread your pussy lips apart. he lets his tongue intrude inside your entrance, sliding against your gummy walls. you moaned rather loudly at the intrusion, tightening around his tongue. jaehyun could feel as your walls throbbed around his tongue, his cock hardening at the thought of how your cunt would feel wrapped nicely around him. jaehyun cursed himself, finding himself too impatient.

you began chanting his name, crying it out with every fucking of his tongue. he found your voice so sweet, so beautiful like a song he could hear on repeat and never get tired of. your fingers grabbed onto his soft locks of hair, grinding yourself on his face. your clit rubbing against his nose, you felt yourself reaching your end already. jaehyun knew you far too well too, knowing you were reaching your end as well. so he grips onto your thighs, fucking his tongue quicker and when he feels your walls clench around him he pulls his tongue out.

you were left on edge, whining at the loss of sensation of not being able to cum. jaehyun didn’t look up, busying himself with kitty licking your cunt. he kissed your sensitive clit, once, twice, three times. so lost you failed to notice his two digits that already worked their way along your slit.

“j-jaehyun?” you asked hazily, looking down at the male as he already stared straight at you. “wha- oh my god!” you moaned out the last part when you felt his two digits plunge inside your soaking cunt. the squelching sound echoing in the doorway, you didn’t even worry about if your neighbors heard. you were far too focused on the way his fingers fucked inside you over and over so quickly. already sensitive from his tongue, you were close to cumming again.

“i-i’m gonna c-cum!” you breathlessly groaned, biting down on your lips so as to not shout again. jaehyun had no intention of leaving you on edge again, so he fucked his fingers into you faster and deeper. he attached his lips onto your clit, toying with it. he remembered how much you loved it when he would teasingly dote on your clit. jaehyun knew your body as if it were his first language.

you let out a gasp before you finally came all over his hand and face. you hadn’t cum like that in a while, your fingers only being able to pleasure you so much. jaehyun licked you up one more time before kissing your clit. he got up, holding your body up before you could fall onto the ground. your legs were giving up already.

he shoved his soaked fingers into your mouth, your tongue licking them clean. “you did so good, love. was always such a good girl for me,” he whispers. his way of words, too, always turned you on.

when you finally licked him clean, he removed his hand from your mouth. in a split second his demeanor changes, his eyes turning more gentle. “as much as i wanna be inside you, i don’t have a condom. so-” you interrupt him. “i-it’s alright jae, please just… i wanna feel you.”

your words too turned him on, in a matter of seconds his pants and boxers were off. his aching cock standing proud. “jump,” he tells you.

you jumped, legs wrapping around his waist. your back still against the wall. his cock rubbed along your soaking slit before his leaking tip plunged into your entrance. 

“fuck- you’re so tight, no one fucked this pretty pussy while i was gone?” he groans. you didn’t respond, already drunk stupidly on his cock that was snugly wrapped around your gummy walls. it had been too long since you’d taken anything like his.

your eyes widened when you felt a smack against your ass cheek. “i asked you a question, or are you too drunk already to answer,” he says in a rough tone.

“uh, ye-yes b-but they don’t c-compare to y-you!” you moaned loudly when you felt him thrust into you rougher, deeper.

jaehyun was always the jealous type when it came to you, you were his and his alone is what he thought. in his world, no one was allowed to have you, it was the one thing he regretted when you two broke up. he couldn’t fathom the fact that some filthy bastard would be able to lay his hands on you, someone as tasteful as you.

“no one could leave you satisfied, right love?” he asks you, to which you just repeatedly say no. his mouth forms into a smile before his lips find themselves on your shoulder. his lips kiss along them, traveling to your neck, and jaw before coming down to your tits.

he pecks one of your tits before wrapping his mouth around your nipple. he accidently bites on your nipple when he feels you clench around his cock. jaehyun mutters a small curse as he kisses his way to your other breast. it receives the same attention as the previous one, only that this time he doesn’t accidentally bite your nipple.

“such perfect tits… were always my favorite,” jaehyun mutters, kissing your tit before parting from it. “now then, are you ready?” he asks you.

“y-yes please fuck me, be rough like you used to,” you said desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

jaehyun’s hands grip onto the bottom of your ass where he lifts you up slightly before plunging you back down on his cock, chucking at your choked out moan. you truly were the cutest, he loved you so very much.

he slides his cock in and out, out and in, of you. he groaned against your exposed neck as you repeatedly clenched around him. you couldn’t help it, jaehyun fucked you so deeper, cock reaching your womb with every thrust. it wouldn’t be long before you’d cum again.

crushing you to the wall, he secures you against it so he could maneuver one of his hands to your clit. he used his thumb to rub the poor thing, “cum, cum on my cock like the good old days love.”

and so you do, erupting around his cock that still fucked into you. you knew he wouldn’t stop until he came, so you waited, encouraging him with filthy words to get him worked up. it was doing the trick, you felt him twitch inside you.

“whe-where do you w-want me to cum?” he asks you, thrusting into you quickly, nearly at his release.

“in mmh-me!” you moaned, clenching around him. “a-are you sure?” he questions you.

“y-yes, i’ll buy a pill tomorrow– please, just please i wanna feel your warmth inside me~”

“fuck,” jaehyun curses, filling you up with his seeds. his lips crashing onto yours as you milked him of his cum.

he parts from the steamy kiss you two just shared to carry you to your bedroom. he still remember the layout of your apartment. jaehyun drops you on your bed, and you watch as he takes off his shirt, sneakily glancing at his still hardened member. your mouth is nearly drooling all the more.

“turn around, on your hands and knees love,” jaehyun says, watching as you obliged to his every word. he watched as you arched your back, ass sticking out nicely, leaking with his cum. he couldn’t resist smacking your ass, left and right roughly. you moaned against your bed comforter, clenching it tightly as you got smacked from behind. you feel his warm cum dripping down your thigh, you try clenching your entrance– jaehyun taking notice.

“how cute, trying to make sure it doesn’t slip out?” he teasingly says before jerking his cock, bringing it to your slit. he rubs against your juices and his cum before stretching your gummy walls once more. it was incomprehensible how tight you always were, just right for him– just made for him.

“how is it love? you always loved it when i took you from behind, didn’t you?” he continues to tease you. “i love it! i love your cock so much j-jae, so good~”

he gripped your hips tighter, tight enough to leave prints the next day. you felt as his tip touched your g-spot so clearly, reaching your womb with every thrust in. jaehyun watches as you begin to wiggle underneath, shaking your ass against him. he smirks, smacking your ass which jiggled from his touch.

a white ring formed around his cock, a mixture of you both. it oddly enough ignited him, fucking into you in rapid, deeper strokes. your tears and drool adorning the comforter. your tight walls hugging his cock tightly, and with one smack to your ass you came for a third time. you gushed all over his pelvis.

“good girl,” jaehyun mutters, continuing his ministrations before he too came once again. only this time he didn’t part from your pussy, fucking you in slow, gentle thrust.

by the time he finished, he laid on your bed. jaehyun was exhausted, and you were too but… you still had something up your sleeve. crawling to him you stopped on his side. “wh-what are you doin-” jaehyun gets interrupted mid-sentence when he feels your lips kiss his tip. he didn’t stop you, in fact he wanted you to continue.

you spit on his cock, jerking it as to spread your saliva along his shaft. your eyes traveling back to jaehyun who hungrily looked at you. going back to his cock you lower your head, opening your mouth so you could finally take him inside. you shoved his cock inside until the tip reached your throat, you gagged and groaned against his cock when you felt him twitch inside. staying like that for a while longer, trying to get accommodated. once you did, you started bobbing your head on his cock, using your tongue to lick along his shaft. never forgetting to tease his slit, something he loved.

you felt as one of his hands tugged on your hair, helping you to better move yourself on his cock. jaehyun was a mess, he felt blessed– praised the lords above. he tried thinking of the nastiest atrocities known to mankind as to not bust so quickly, but that proved to be an impossible task. i mean, how could he when you so beautifully wrapped your sweet mouth around his cock.

and so it wasn’t long before he came inside your mouth, your mouth feeling his warmth before swallowing it down. you now felt so full, unable to take anymore. jaehyun too, you milked him dry, taking all of him in you.

you crawled to him, laying beside him. he engulfs you into his embrace, kissing you so tenderly. you two were exhausted but for what it was worth, it wasn’t regretful. his hand strokes your back, playing with your hair. it was peaceful, so peaceful that you secretly wished for your days to be like this. you were almost lulled to sleep by jaehyun before you opened your eyes when he whispered into the quiet room.

“we’re unconditionally timeless, and so is our love.”

far too exhausted to reply back, you just smile. you snuggled into his body, melting into him before you drifted off to dreamland. however, it wasn’t until you woke up the next day and felt the cold that you knew. 

jaehyun was gone, gone from your life once more. the intimate night you two shared last night, his parting gift.

there was no getting back together, no peaceful nights where the two of you lay in each other’s embrace. you cried and cried that entire morning, and silently prayed for a day where you two could reunite again. for fate to align you two again because after all…

jeong jaehyun was your first love and last love.

© jhdyuiee

2024. 11. 03

final a.n: AHHHHH, jae leaves tomorrow. i don’t know what to do guys, like my man is leaving for the next 2 years. like what do you mean my man who has served needs to serve more?! consider this story as my last jaehyun fic while he is still a free man, lol, and no this doesn’t mean i’ll stop writing abt him. instead, think of this as a new beginning (?) okay i think that’s enough… i’ma go now! i hope you all enjoyed this read (wrote it in one day, very proud of my dedication after all the chaos school has brought me) and i’ll be sure to upload lots this month! stay safe, may we jaehyun fans make it until may 2026!

p.s: the cover picture makes me go feral, i just had to include it!

[yunwangja]

touch - tobio kageyama oneshot

kageyama feels jealous as he notices that the other karasuno members can be physically affectionate with you while he struggles to do the same, thanks to your hesitation whenever he tries to get close.

genre: slight drama? romantic angst? its kageyama being frustrated so ig yeah, also eventual fluff

tags: kageyama x fem!reader, high school friends to lovers

warnings/notes: swearing, honestly that's it lol. also THIS IS MY FIRST TIME SORRY IF ITS LACKING /,,,,: i tried my best for them to be in character too so if not mb >< also approx. 1.2k words

kageyama’s thoughts had been swirling lately, a tumult of confusion and frustration. and it was all because of you.

he found himself watching you more often than he cared to admit, noticing every smile exchanged, every casual touch with other members of the volleyball team that seemed effortless. midterms and practices passed in a blur, overshadowed by his own internal questioning.

why did he feel like you were avoiding him so subtly? why did simple interactions feel like navigating a minefield? happenings from days ago has been haunting him, your subtle movements away from him echoing in his mind.

he wanted to be closer to you, and understand why you seemed so distant whenever he tries to. only thing was: he’s bad at this. he’s bad at expressing his feelings and making a mess of himself, especially in front of you. how could he do this so naturally when you keep on backing away?

"y/n-chan! you’re here!" hinata exclaimed joyfully, bounding over to greet you. oh right, i’m in practice. kageyama thought and snapped back to reality, mainly because of hinata’s loud announcement of your arrival, and well, because, it’s you.

his head snapped towards the gym entrance, catching your smile as you exchanged greetings with hinata.

"how was midterms?" sugawara approached you and asked kindly, prompting a hesitant response from you, "uh, they were fine, i think. hehe." the third year patted your head comfortingly, "i'm sure you did great."

kageyama's chest tightened slightly at the gesture, his irritation simmering beneath his composed exterior as he focused on his serves.

"wow, tobio, you're as consistent as ever," daichi commented seeing his performance, with asahi nodding in agreement. you managed to wave to kageyama from beside yachi, and he nodded in acknowledgment before returning to his practice.

practice officially began with a three-on-three match: tanaka, sugawara, and asahi against hinata, kageyama, and tsukishima. you stood near tanaka's team and cheered enthusiastically as he spiked, "nice kill, tanaka-senpai!"

tanaka grinned proudly and threw an arm around your shoulders, basking in your praise. “it’s nothing, y/n!”

kageyama's frustration flared again. why can't i do that too? kageyama wondered silently.

he decides to lash it out on tsukishima, pushing him to block their spikes better - to which the tall teammate responded with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

it all started a few days ago - you were having lunch on the rooftop with hinata and kageyama. hinata was engrossed in his own thoughts, while kageyama had this plan to subtly get closer to you, unsure and hesitant about being too forward. he wasn't particularly skilled at these things.

as kageyama inched closer, you immediately noticed and instinctively pulled back a bit, nervously remarking, "oh, is the sun shining on your side?" even though the weather was perfect and there was no sunlight. kageyama glanced down and replied, "uh, no... yeah, thanks. you didn't have to move unless it's cramped for you."

"no, as long as you have enough space," you awkwardly chuckled, trying to ease the panic you felt and continued eating.

kageyama sighed inwardly, contemplating another approach. he just wanted to be more gentle and affectionate towards you, just like the others do. hell, maybe, more than they do.

while you were sipping your beverage, you happened to try blueberry-flavored milk for the first time. "this is an interesting flavor," you remarked.

"really? what brand is it?" kageyama asked, attempting to hold your hand with the milk carton while leaning closer to you, making his face close to yours.

once again, you panic and quickly hand him the carton instead, "i-i don't know. you can check it yourself." you stood up to gather your things, suggesting, "let's go now," with hinata obediently following. he urged kageyama to hurry up as he remained on the floor with the now-empty blueberry milk carton.

from that moment, thoughts began to swirl in kageyama's mind—why did you keep avoiding him? was he making you uncomfortable? did you not like being close to him? was he being too much?

walking back to your classrooms, kageyama was stopped in his thoughts when he noticed hinata subtly linking his arm with yours. "y/n-chan! look!" hinata excitedly pointed out a stall being set up outside the window for the upcoming school festival.

you squealed with excitement and both of you jumped up and down, holding hands. kageyama couldn't help but notice the contrast—why was it okay for hinata to touch you like this, but not him? was he doing something wrong? did you dislike him?

"aren't you excited, kageyama?" hinata's question pulled him back from his thoughts. he quickly masked his inner turmoil and casually walked past both of you, muttering, "i don't care", making hinata complain about his lack of school spirit, while you just giggled in response.

back in the present, you continued cheering for tanaka's team after your interaction with him, prompting hinata to playfully pout, "y/n-chan, cheer for us too!"

you laughed and nodded, encouraging everyone with a big smile. “do your best too, hinata! tsukishima, kageyama!” kageyama would normally be melting inside, but today his mind was all over the place, frustrated. this drove him to be set on winning.

i don’t need to be close to you. i don’t even need your cheers. he resolved silently (and pettily), i'll prove it. and he did.

as practice ended with his team's victory, everyone dispersed, leaving you and kageyama, since you were walking in the same direction. "thanks for your hard work," you greeted him cheerfully, but he merely nodded, avoiding eye contact.

trying to engage him in conversation, you remarked on his performance, but kageyama's responses remained curt. "you were really cool as always, but you seemed even more fired up today after seeing tanaka-senpai’s spike," you commented lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

"you're so petty," you teased with a giggle, but kageyama stayed silent, lost in his thoughts.

as you walked and chatted animatedly about a recent volleyball match, a bicycle approached unnoticed.

just in time, kageyama noticed and instinctively pulled you closer, holding your hand to prevent you from getting hurt. flustered by his sudden action—and the fact that he was holding your hand—you looked at him in surprise.

"watch where you're going," kageyama said gruffly, his hands holding yours intensely. you awkwardly laughed off the situation, "i'm sorry. thanks though!"

glancing at your hands still together, you attempted to pull away. “you can let go now,” you try to smile.

there you go again, he thinks. he’s been experiencing this from you for days and it’s been pissing him off. he’s had enough.

kageyama held on to his grip on yours. "no," he said firmly and looked ahead. confused, "what? it’s fine, really, you don’t have to hold my hand,” you try to assure him and continued to let go of his hand.

his expression softened slightly as he slowly looked at you, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual tough exterior. "why, can't i hold your hand?" he questioned, his voice quieter but determined.

you were taken aback by his question. where is this coming from? you never really noticed anything unusual about his behavior—at least, not that you were aware of.

you try to stay calm for now. "what do you mean? of course you can, but there's no need to anymo—"

"that's a lie. you don't even let me touch you." he maintains eye contact with you. you can't quite grasp what he means yet, but despite the firmness in his voice, his eyes seem to be pleading, as if he's waiting for something.

"do i make you uncomfortable, y/n?" he asks while you're still processing the situation. you shake your head. "no, not at all."

"then why can't i hold your hand?" he continues. "you let the other members do it all the time, especially hinata. why do you treat me so differently?"

shit.

technically, you know why you were acting this way. you just never thought that this was something kageyama would even think or care about, so you just behaved this way naturally.

"i…" nothing else comes out. at this point, you and kageyama are having a staring contest. you want to go home—you’re nervous as hell—but he’s looking at you like he won’t leave until you answer him. "where is this coming from, kageyama?"

"hinata links arms with you, holds hands with you. sugawara-senpai pats your head all the time. tanaka-senpai has a habit of putting his arm around you whenever you compliment him—all of them get to touch you like that, and you don’t even care. but i just come and sit closer to you, and you back away already?"

honestly, you are amazed at how he remembers your interactions with the other members. to you, what they did was nothing to think about, but kageyama noticed every detail.

you knew kageyama—well, at least this trait of his; the fact that he is actually opening up about this means it has bothered him for quite some time. it dumbfounds you that these "small" things to you actually mattered to him—a lot, maybe even more than you realize.

you look down at the ground, breaking eye contact. "y/n—"

"you are right, kageyama, it is different."

"because i don't care if the others do it to me," you say, lifting your gaze back to him, a sense of vulnerability in your eyes this time. "but i care when you do."

you see the surprise on his face. "too much that it could kill me, honestly." he looks bewildered. "w-what? i don't understand."

"unlike the others, i…" your cheeks flush, and your eyes linger somewhere else again as you brace yourself for what you're about to say. "i want you to touch me."

this shocks kageyama, but leaves him wanting more answers.

"i want you to be close to me like that so badly, but it’s too much—it feels selfish. i mean, it’s not like you’re going to benefit much from that. it's all just for myself. i bet you don't want to do that, so i purposely avoided physical contact with you."

there was a few seconds of silence before he could even respond to that. "idiot," he whispers while keeping his head down, but loud enough for you to hear. you look at him, quite embarrassed that you just lowkey confessed to him, and now he's calling you an idiot. he takes a breath and closes his eyes. "why? i just answered you—"

"i want to!" he shouts, his voice rising sharply.

now, you both keep surprising each other.

"i'm not complaining here just because i think you treat me differently from them! hell, i couldn't care any less if it was anyone else. but it's you, y/n."

"i'm frustrated because i want to touch you like that too!"

he looks away, feeling shy. "i want to hold your hand and pat your head when i want to. i want to stand and sit close to you so i can feel you beside me. i want to be able to hug you when i score a point during a match," he pauses, "although i don't think you're allowed on the bench during a match—but that's not the point!"

he looks so cute, but this is also all new to you. you don't know how to feel about his confession. you don't know if this literally means he likes you (which you do too), but one thing is for sure.

you weren't being selfish after all.

"so, please, y/n…"

"let me. and don't avoid me," he says. "it hurts when you do, you know."

your eyes fill with concern. you take a few seconds before speaking again, "kageyama."

he looks at you shyly. "what?"

you respond by grabbing his hand, intertwining it with yours. "okay."

he looks down to see your hands together, and his face turns bright red. "you can hold my hand." he looks up to see your smiling face.

"i'm sorry for avoiding you like that. i thought you really didn't mind. and cared. thank you for telling me what you felt," you apologize.

he shakes his head. "no, you did nothing wrong. and i'm not actually mad, you know…"

"i was just frustrated. i'm sorry i kind of shouted just now."

you shake your head and start to walk again, letting your linked hands guide him as well. "no, no. i know. i'm even glad you let it all out. that's a big step, in my opinion, after knowing you these past months," you say.

he looks at you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. it's as if he didn't expect you to notice. you didn't show any trace of anger or hurt after how he acted just now—you even cared about what he felt. his expression softens, a mix of amazement and shy delight flickering across his face and looks away again. "well, that's what i'm trying to learn these days."

"that's good," you give him what he thinks is the sweetest smile.

you both continue walking hand-in-hand towards the street corner where you usually part ways—kageyama takes the bus while you head in the other direction to the train station. after your intense and revealing conversation, the rest of the walk is quiet.

"y/n," he breaks the silence, and you look at him, urging him to say what he wants.

"uh, you know," he looks shy again, scratching the back of his head.

"what is it?" you ask.

"i'm just saying this to put it out there, but…" he squirms, "you can call me by my first name if you want to."

you are taken aback first by what he says. after absorbing his words, you laugh, and he continues to blush.

"all right, tobio."

[yelenasdiary]

Little Spidey

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Spider-Woman! Reader

Summary: After coming home from a long mission, you struggle to accept a little shift in your relationships. 

Angst, Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: Brief mentions depression & loneliness | 1.3K

AC: Wrote this for my good friend, @scarletwidowblackwitch ! so sorry it took me forever to get this one out for you! I hope you enjoy! x 

Your apartment was quiet while you lay in bed staring at the roof, usually your roommates, Peter and Kate would be making so much noise that a sleep in was almost non-existent in the small apartment. The time on your phone reading, 10:16am reminded you just how hungry you were. After getting home rather late last night, sliding through the door without making a sound, careful not to wake your roommates, you took a shower and fell as the second your head hit the pillow. 

You wandered into the kitchen, the two friends of yours leaving it how they normally did. Their breakfast dishes in the sink, crumbs from the cereal box on the countertop along with some small droplets of milk. You shook your head with a soft, amused smile on your lips as you reached for a wash cloth to clean up after them. 

After breakfast, you showered and gave your suit a quick steam before you picked up your phone, the weather was beautiful today, the sun kissing the city of New York with its warm touch made you think about a nice catch up with you a friend or two in Central Park. You called Wanda first, knowing just how much she loved getting a latte and some fresh air but your call went to voice mail, maybe she was on a mission you thought. 

Next you tried your roommate, Kate but no answer then you tried your luck with Peter. 

“Hey, Y/n, what’s up?” The young adult happily asked. 

“I just wanted to know if you were busy? Thought we could grab a smoothie and hang out?” You replied. 

“Wait, when did you get back? I thought you were still on that big job?”

“Uh, last night. I didn’t want to wake you or Kate, so I was pretty quiet” you lightly chuckled. 

“Welcome back! I would hang out today but Tony’s got me doing training in this new suit he made me, can we do a rain check?” He questioned with doubt in his voice. 

“Of course, let me know whenever you’re free” you did your best to sound unbothered before Peter said he’d text you before hanging up the line. You let out a light sigh before you checked the Avengers app that Tony created to keep up with who was on missions and to no surprise, Natasha was on a mission, Bucky was on a mission, Steve was with Bucky, Sam was booked for training, Tony was with Peter and Kate was with Clint on someday training trip. With that information, you tossed your phone on your freshly made bed and decided to go to the gym for an hour or so. 

As the days went by, you couldn’t help the negative thoughts that dawned on you. Almost everybody had returned from their missions and were staying at the compound to catch up on mission reports. You joined them all at the compound but the quietness that you woke up too days before still lingered. You wondered if you were annoying those around you, your text messages went unread, or you only got short replies back. Plans to catch up went abandoned leaving you alone while your insecurities dawned on you. 

A week has floated by you while you did your best to keep yourself distracted from the loneliness that crept into the apartment, your roommates barely coming home for more than a nights sleep. The apartment still quiet over your favorite playlist that played in the background, nothing on the streaming apps seemed interesting enough to keep the silence from becoming louder at night. Rubbish from your favorite almost overflowing the bin in the kitchen reminding you to take it out in the morning. 

You were getting yourself ready for bed when you heard a knock at the door, you couldn’t help but sigh lightly thinking it was probably the elderly neighbor with some gossip of yet another delinquent hanging around, suspiciously. You opened the door only to be met with the familiar green eyes and locks of red hair that you had missed dearly. 

“Y/n! you’re back?!” Beamed Natasha as her eyes lit up, “nobody told me you were back, and I lost my freaking phone” she adds. 

You give her a weak smile, knowing she probably wasn’t even here to see you in the first place. “I guess everybody has been busy, are you here to see Kate or Peter?” You asked causing Nat to frown slightly. “I needed to speak to Kate about something, but I don’t care about that, it can wait” she replied, giving you a soft smile, “my detka is home” she added. 

The pet name getting the better of you as you felt your cheeks get warm. Natasha wrapped her arms around you and gently pulled you in for a hug, “I missed you so much” she said in an almost whisper. You felt yourself practically melt into her hold, missing the way her arms always felt like home. Her dark rose scented perfume leaving its mark on your clothing, a smell you forgot just how much you missed. 

“Why don’t you come stay at mine tonight?” Your girlfriend asked, pulling back to look you in the eyes ones more. Her highly trained skills to read people never failed her when it came to you, she saw past the weak smile and the sadness in your eyes no matter how much you thought you were good at hiding. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a burden” you confessed to the widow. 

“A burden? Honey, you could never be a burden. Besides we both know I have the best fluff blankets” She says, gently cupping your face before planting a soft kiss on your lips, “and maybe you can tell me what’s got my little Spidey so down” she adds. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle ever so lightly at the nickname, “are you sure?” You asked, needing reassurance. 

“Detka, if you think I’m leaving you alone, think again” she smirks.

“Let me go pack my overnight bag, come in” you smile softly as she walks in, closing the door behind her. 

“Why don’t you pack a little more than just one bag?” The widow suggested. 

You stopped in your tracks halfway down the hall, turning to face her once more, “Nat, I can’t just leave without telling Peter and Kate” you reply, “Rent is due next week, it wouldn’t be fair” 

Natasha shrugged, “I’ll cover it and I think they would understand but if you’re not ready for that step it’s okay, I can wait” 

You took a moment to think about her idea, you wanted nothing more to be able to spend more time with your girlfriend, especially after being away from her for so long but the guilt of leaving your roommates so suddenly dawned on you. “I would love too but I really, really don’t want to be a burden on you just because I’ve had a few lousy days” 

Natasha, walking towards you reached out to hold your hand, “it’s not a burden to spend your life with somebody you care about. Change can be scary, but we all need it. Peter and Kate can find another roommate if they want, they’ll be okay. I really just want to share everything moment with you” she says, looking into your eyes while silence filled the room for you to think a little more. 

“I guess I could talk to Kate and Peter tomorrow” 

“That’s my little Spidey” Natasha smiles, “now you’ll be able to hear me complain about my cooking every night” she adds with a playful wink causing you to chuckle once more. 

“Don’t worry Romanoff, I won’t let you burn the house down” you reply as she wraps her arms around you once more, “oh come on, the kitchen caught on fire once” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“Once is more than enough” you smile before her lips find yours again.

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[shipspainfulships]

"maybe we got lost in translation maybe I asked for too much" James after Regulus chose his family.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

If You'll Have Me

A/N: Finally, this is here. Got this request back in March I think so anon, here ya go, sorry it took so long. Pairing: Megumi x Fem! Reader *(Both are 21 here) Warnings: Angst, breakup, pregnancy

It rained the day Megumi broke up with you. He sat there on your sofa, looking detached and apologetic, and you felt like your heart might choke you to death, the way it pounded frantically in your chest.

“I gave you everything!” You whispered furiously. “I supported you! Waited long hours for you to get home, without knowing what may have happened to you! I looked after Tsumiki when she became bedridden!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Megumi’s eyes are like dark tunnels, with not a trace of warmth or emotion in them. “With everything that’s happened…I don’t feel like I’m worthy of you.”

“Oh, how noble of you!” You spat, feeling utterly humiliated. “I suppose you’ll say it’s not me, it's you?” 

“It is me. I see the fear in your eyes whenever I leave you for a mission. I hear the pain in your voice when I tell you I’m coming home late. I hate being the person that makes you feel that way. You’re such a good person. That’s why I think you’d be better off without me.”

“Get out.” You managed to squeeze the words past your tightening throat, your eyes stinging painfully, tears spilling from them. Wordlessly, Megumi gets up and walks towards the door.

Perhaps you’d been daring him to go because your heart stopped for a second as he got to the door. Part of you wished he’d stop, look at you, and gather you close, saying he couldn’t live without you. You’re begging him with your being to not throw this away. 

He’s supposed to stop, isn’t he? He’s supposed to realize he’s being irrational, that there’s no one better than him for you? You were a pair, meant to be. His look haunts you as he turns the doorknob.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly, before disappearing into the rain. 

You stood there, watching the downpour, feeling your heart crack and splinter, like a delicate teacup that had fallen from a shelf, no safe hands ready to catch it and prevent it from falling to its doom. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

A month later, you feel exhausted, more than usual. Getting out of bed feels like a chore. Your back and feet hurt, and nothing stays in your stomach. You try everything. Soup, saltine crackers, toast, applesauce. Whatever you ate made you nauseated and dizzy. 

You started worrying you had caught a really persistent form of the flu, but when your period didn’t start, you felt a wave of dread. 

Now, as you stared at the positive pregnancy test in your hands, you felt like someone had torn your body open, invisible wounds reopening and stinging afresh, chaotically spilling your feelings everywhere. 

“You need to tell him.” Gojo leans back in his chair, assessing you critically. You look at him coldly, cursing his six-eyes technique.

“I do not. And it’s none of your fucking business.”

“It is. Believe me when I say Megumi will not shirk his duties as a father. It would devastate him if he ever gets to know he has a child and that he was absent from its life.”

“How can you possibly assume that?” You cross your arms over your still flat belly and glare at him. Like it wasn’t bad enough that you were Megumi’s ex, now you were knocked up with his baby. “He wanted nothing to do with me. That man was barely able to keep promises to me as his girlfriend. What makes you think he’s going to step up and be a father to a child he probably doesn't want?”

“Because he knows what it’s like to be that child,” Gojo says the words quietly but with a firm edge that had you staring at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Has Megumi ever told you about his dad?” Your silence says it all and Gojo narrows his eyes. “He’ll probably want my head if he ever finds out I told you this but I think it’s necessary.” Gojo sighs deeply and continues.

“Megumi’s dad loved him. But he simply wasn’t fit to be a parent. He abandoned Megumi and Tsumiki. Megumi was 7 years old at the time.”

You blink back tears as Gojo continues. “Megumi grew up as my ward. I don’t pretend to be his dad, but I can’t just let this slide. I understand you probably harbor resentment towards him, but cutting him out of this decision isn’t the right way to go about it.”

“I don’t want him to feel like he has any obligations towards me because of the baby. That’s the only reason he’d try to get in touch with me now, right?” You can’t forgive him for deciding to walk out of your life just yet, no matter what his childhood was like. 

“How long do you think you can keep this a secret? Megumi might not be around that much anymore, but you’ll start to show soon enough. If not me, someone else will tell him.”

Your expression hardens and you stand up with steely resolution coursing in your veins. “Thank you for your opinion. But the last I checked, though it takes two to make a baby, it only takes one to raise it.”

You pack your belongings and urgently move out of Tokyo by the end of the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Surprisingly, no one comes to bother you. You start over and manage to find work at a small accounting firm as a secretary. Your boss is sympathetic to your situation and doesn’t give you a hard time about needing maternity leave. Everything is going well despite the constant worry about running into someone from the jujutsu world but so far, nothing has happened. Your tummy swells and grows, the baby healthy and full of life. It brings you joy, knowing you carry this little being inside you.

One night, you wake up with a strange feeling inside your abdomen. Worried that the stress was getting to you as you entered your eighth month of pregnancy, you restlessly forced yourself out of bed and tried walking around the small apartment to ease your nerves.

It was a curious sensation, like something unseen was flowing through your veins, not sinister but a little unsettling. You place a hand on your swollen middle in hopes of soothing the baby then freeze when you feel the flow of cursed energy in your womb. 

You’d heard it wasn’t uncommon for sorcerer babies to begin regulating and channeling their cursed energy in utero, but it filled you with awe at how familiar the energy signature was to Megumi’s, vitality coursing under your fingertips as you felt it kick and turn. 

A soft rustling has you turning in panic, a gasp escaping your lips as you see 2 dog-like figures padding over to you from nowhere, their eyes glowing in the dark. Up close, you recognize them as Megumi’s divine dogs, their tails wagging as they approach you.

Motherly instinct has you clutching your stomach and angling away from them. Had Megumi finally figured out the truth? But the dogs’ demeanor didn’t seem to match that scenario. If anything, they looked curious and friendly. One of them finally gets close enough to nose your belly with its snout, before nuzzling the bump affectionately, which the other one mirrors. You watch in silent fascination, then feel a surge of energy from your womb. 

The baby was responding to the dogs. 

They recognized it as their owner. The dogs weren’t here because of Megumi. The baby had subconsciously summoned them. With a shaky hand, you pet both of them, seeing their eyes close happily. They bring back memories of Megumi and your eyes fill with tears.

“Does he want to be a father?” You ask them. They look at you with intense yellow eyes and before you can say anything else, vanish in a blink. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

The day the baby arrives is one of the happiest and emotionally draining days of your life. You lay on the labor bed, gripping the sheets as the contractions relentlessly come and go, each more painful than the last. 

You almost scream, not from the pain but in shock, as something noses your hand. Turning, you see the divine dogs at the side of the bed, unseen to the normal humans. You could’ve wept with relief, knowing you weren’t quite alone. You pet them and grip their fur as you finally deliver your baby boy into the world. 

The small pink bundle was a miniature of Megumi, the beautiful black hair plastered to its little head, screaming with the rage of life. With shaky hands you accept him, your heart so full of love you feel like it could burst. You’re so occupied that you don’t notice the divine dogs quietly padding outside, tails wagging, as someone lingers near the door.

Megumi has tears in his eyes as he hides just outside the room. He sees his child, and you, the person he loves and cherishes. You’re cooing at the baby, getting him settled down to suckle, his little hand wrapped around your finger so tightly.

Megumi balls his hands into fists feeling his fingernails dig into his palm, emotions raging through him. He’s so glad the two of you are healthy, and there’s regret for his mistakes of the past. He understands why you left Tokyo. You were a proud woman, independent, determined to not need him after he’d broken up with you. It wasn’t like you to grovel or beg. He was sure if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs by accident, he would’ve never found you. 

Yet he felt like an intruder, an outsider, unworthy of entering the room. He understands what he broke the day he left and it eats away at his soul knowing that he was the reason you didn’t come to him after finding out you were pregnant. It had taken so long for you to let your walls down, to learn to depend on him finally, and in an instant, he had taken that away from you, the one thing you had avoided for so long; the need to rely on others.

It was that which drove you, the shattered dependability, and he remembered how long it had taken to reassure you to be less guarded on that front. He was awful, no better than his own father. But he had to try. He knocks on the door.

You turn, breath catching when you see him in the doorway.

“Hi.” He tries to not let his tears show, but when your eyes fill, he can’t contain himself. He closes the gap and embraces both of you as you sob uncontrollably into his shoulder.  

.・。.・゜✭・.

Megumi sleeps on the sofa, taking care of his child with such tenderness and love. He relearns everything about you, appreciating all that you are. It takes time but the relationship rebuilds steadily.

“How did Gojo not rat me out?” you ask one evening as Megumi cooks dinner while you cuddle the baby on the sofa. 

Megumi pauses, and looks over uncertainly. “He did.”

“He did?” 

“Yeah.” Megumi’s voice is low. “He told me and said I’d regret it if I didn’t try to find you. I was a coward.” He turns the stove burner off and faces you. “I never stopped thinking about you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me. I still believe I’m not your equal, and I never will be. You were my home base. The single person holding my life together. How much more could I ask you to do?”

He joins you on the sofa, taking his son into his arms, rocking him softly as he starts to doze off. “I was so scared to ask you to forgive me. I felt like a hypocrite, reassuring you all these years that it’s ok to depend on me, and then taking that security away from you. I was the worst kind of asshole. But I knew I couldn’t be a deadbeat father. I looked for you. But you did such a good job covering up your tracks. Honestly, if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs, I probably would have never caught on.”

The baby yawns and drifts off to sleep in his arms. Megumi stares at the little face, unable to forgive himself for what he almost missed out on.

“I want us to be all right. I want us to be a family. Can we?” He looks at you with doubt, knowing if you said no, it was well within your right.

You take the baby from his arms, carefully settling him down in the portable bassinet next to the sofa, and take Megumi’s face in between your hands.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice choking up. 

Megumi pulls you against him tightly. “I love you so much. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure to live up to being your equal.”

You nod, letting your tears flow freely.

“I love you too.”

all dividers and banners by @/ cafekitsune

@estarlias @daswanj @actuallysaiyan @whatshernameis

@byul9158 @mirrors-musings @Mangiswig

@that-goth-bisexual @connorsui @jadedjane @darkstarlight82

@soft--cherry @galactict3a @hunnie-lily

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

[zayneslady]

summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course. 

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries. 

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time. 

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it. 

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds. 

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?” 

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak. 

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to. 

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up. 

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive. 

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.” 

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were. 

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.” 

Don't cry. Don't cry! 

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this. 

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault. 

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.” 

You also loved him, so much. 

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent. 

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her. 

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew. 

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if- 

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?” 

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?” 

“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.” 

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better. 

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!” 

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear. 

“Are you crying?” 

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why- 

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.” 

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes. 

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.” 

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.” 

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses. 

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream. 

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place? 

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that. 

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus. 

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes… 

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!" 

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird. 

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now. 

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.” 

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.” 

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars. 

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.” 

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone." 

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears. 

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him. 

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.” 

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying. 

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.” 

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek. 

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot." 

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.” 

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.” 

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes. 

“Please, give me another chance.” 

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”