#speaking of which are just talking shit and acting friendly in front of people

[toji-bunny-girl]

random pick a card reading: toxic people/things will leave your life in 2023

me (2022): sureeee 🤨

2023: three of my ‘friends’ from my friend group ganging up all of a sudden and started showing their true colours (toxic red flags) and being really fake friends which led to me and the two other girls leaving and cutting ties with them

me (2023):

[feroluce]

For some weird reason, I've always been fascinated by how wildly different Sampo operates in the Underground vs the Overworld.

Sampo is present in both places and even in official sources, he's not really counted as one side or the other- now that the theory has been confirmed in-game, he's generally just lumped in with the Masked Fools.

But there really is a big difference!

Probably the most obvious and well known instance of Sampo's...business practices *cough burglary and fraud COUGH* in the Overworld is from the Belobog Museum event. In it, you don't find out Sampo is the main culprit until near the end, because Pela has to set up a sting just to catch him in the act. And that sting is necessary all because the initial suspect they arrested, Norbert, had pretty much no idea of his partner's identity. Sampo wouldn't even speak to him face-to-face.

And whereas Sampo is normally very pleasant and friendly with the trailblazer...when he thinks he's talking to Norbert here, he straight up says that they are NOT friends. Like he really shuts that shit DOWN.

There's also an Overworld NPC, Chavez, who heads the "Dark Blue Scam Support Group." And he. Really really really does not like Sampo fjkdasjklfdj

Chavez clearly wants Sampo caught, and has literally no positive feelings about him. So. Why call it the Dark Blue Scam? Why not just out him by name? Chavez obviously doesn't give a single shit about Sampo's dignity or privacy. But he never once refers to him as "Sampo," and even the pamphlets he passes out make no mention of it. No one in the entire support group seems to know how to identify him or how to refer to him except by his hair color. If the trailblazer says his name, Chavez reacts as though he's never heard it before.

(I've seen people say this means Sampo Koski is an alias and not his real name? But Ray pointed this out, and honestly I agree; even the Fools call him Sampo, after all. I think it's just that Chavez never knew Sampo's name in the first place, and given his immense distrust, immediately assumes it's an alias.)

And then there's his characters stories, where he proceeds to pull off a heist in the Overworld while in disguise as Brughel Poisson the entire time. Literally his own stories don't mention Sampo's name even once.

So anyway, all this shows that when he's up in the Overworld working cons, Sampo is incredibly slippery and secretive about his identity. The only people who seem to know him are Pela, Serval, and Gepard. He doesn't get close to anyone else, and is even surprisingly unfriendly. Nobody knows his name. No one knows his face. He has zero qualms about backstabbing or double-crossing, and even plans for it in some cases.

Meanwhile, down in the Underground, I'm pretty sure literally the worst thing we hear of him doing is scalping tickets in front of the Fight Club. Which isn't even illegal in a lot of places (although it's certainly a dick move).

In Hook's companion quest, a vagrant miner steals Fersman's equipment and tries to sell it to Sampo. Even before the trailblazer and Hook jump in and out the vagrant as a thief, Sampo hesitates to buy it because it sounds like stolen goods, which he doesn't want any part of.

Even knowing that a geomarrow detector is rare and incredibly valuable in the mines, Sampo makes no attempt to double-cross Hook or profit off of her loss, and even tells her who to go to to get it fixed.

And my favorite example of Sampo in the Underground is the Survival Wisdom adventure mission. In it, Sampo starts up a business with Peak, another miner. And like. In wild contrast to all the cons he pulls above ground, Sampo is actually super nice and helpful here.

Just the same as with Hook's quest, Sampo talks to Peak face-to-face, with no disguises or barriers. When the trailblazer finds them, they're just in the Great Mine, no secretive meeting places. Peak knows Sampo, is familiar with him, and calls him by name. It's not even a con! There's nothing illegal going on; it really is just a business partnership. Peak is more than happy with their deal, he's even pretty enthusiastic about it, because thanks to Sampo he can now make enough money to get by while also accommodating his chronic fatigue.

The only person Sampo lies to in this whole ordeal is the trailblazer, who he manipulates into getting Peak's mining equipment back from the vagrants that stole it in the first place. And when it's done, he rewards them with a legit treasure map.

So when he's working in the Underground, Sampo is MUCH more upright and lawful. Part of this is probably to do with his "business" model- Sampo only takes advantage of the wealthy, and poverty runs rampant in the Underground. When he charges Peak an extra 30% (the same percentage he charges Norbert as a consultation fee in the museum heists- Sampo seems to go by percentage instead of a flat rate, which means his prices are more fair for lower incomes) for carelessly losing their supply, Peak literally starts counting out pocket change.

Dude's working for pennies and good will down there dknsmdmd

And you can twist this into a Robin Hood thing if you want- Sampo IS technically working to feed orphans and heal the sick. He says himself he's more than happy to make up the shortfall between the greedy and the marginalized- I mean he says it in the shadiest way possible, but I doubt the people benefiting from his work really care that he's a slimeball if it means they can survive another day. Even the two heists he pulls in his character stories are literally just him stealing absurd amounts of food.

Personally though I think it is solely because of Natasha, and Sampo is hilariously well-behaved specifically for her, because she keeps him on a short leash JSKZJMSMSKS

[fatecantstopme]

Undercover

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: You've gotta go undercover for a case...with the last person on earth you'd ever wanna go with.

Warnings: Angst. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, praise kink, sir kink, light choking kink. Mentions of murder. Little bit of fluffy fluff at the end.

A/N: Haley doesn't exist in this story, just FYI.

"So we need two people to go undercover," Rossi said.

"Count me out," Emily said, throwing her hands in the air. "This unsub creeps me out too much. I have no interest in playing his game."

Rossi looked at you and you groaned. "Oh come on."

"You're the only other option, (Y/N)," he insisted.

You looked over at JJ and she shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't look at me, I'm just the media liaison."

"Fine, I'll do it, but only if I can take Morgan with me."

Morgan grinned. "Hell, yeah. I'm in."

Garcia cut in, "Sorry, hot stuff--as much as I'd love to see you go undercover in a tux, you don't exactly fit the required profile."

You looked at Spence hopefully, but he shook his head. "Sorry, (Y/N/N), I'm too young for this one."

You groaned. "Well what's wrong with Morgan?"

"The group the unsub belongs to is very exclusive--if you're not white, you're not getting in," Hotch answered.

You bristled slightly at your boss's interjection. He wasn't wrong and you knew it, but every time he spoke you couldn't help but feel annoyed.

"Fine," you conceded. "Looks like I'm taking Rossi."

Rossi laughed. "Come on, (Y/N). You know I'm too old for this one."

The room fell silent as the realization dawned on every single person in the room, yourself included. Shit, shit, shit.

"It has to be Hotch," Rossi stated.

Even Hotch looked slightly surprised. "I haven't gone undercover in quite a while."

"Better figure it out because you're the only option," you grumbled.

Hotch sent you a glare, but didn't bother to reply to your statement. "When's this party happening?"

"Saturday night," Garcia answered.

"That's two days to prepare," Emily stated. "Should be plenty."

You sighed loudly, but nodded your agreement.

"Good. Let's get started," Hotch said.

The room immediately began to clear out, the rest of the team going back to their desks to work. You stayed behind, which didn't go unnoticed by Rossi.

"I know it's not ideal, but it's the best way to draw out the unsub," Rossi said gently as he sat down beside you.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. "He hates me, Rossi, and to be honest, I'm not his biggest fan either. But you want us to pretend to love each other in front of a bunch of strangers? For hours on end?"

Rossi patted your arm. "I know, kiddo, but he's not that bad. It'll be okay."

You stared at him in silence for a moment. "The man never looks at me unless it's a glare. He looks annoyed every time I dare to speak in his presence, especially if it's directed at him. There's no way we're going to be able to pretend to even like each other, Rossi."

"I'll talk to him, okay? But you both need to be the professionals I know you are. It's not about either of you...it's about all the girls this man has murdered."

You sighed lightly. "You're right, you're right--as always. I'll behave, I promise."

Rossi smiled. "That'a girl. I'll talk to Hotch."

You nodded. "Be mean if you have to."

"(Y/N)," Rossi warned with a chuckle as he left the conference room.

It's not that you hated Hotch or anything like that. Hell, you actually found him incredibly attractive--it was his attitude you couldn't stand. He wasn't always rude to you, he was almost friendly when you'd joined the team a couple years prior. A couple months in and he started to act differently. You had no idea what you'd done to him to make him hate you, but it pissed you off to no end.

Hotch wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy with anyone, but he was downright hostile with you. He went out of his way to avoid you when he could, and acted like a sullen child when he couldn't. He always paired you up with someone else on cases, to the point where you'd actually never worked with him alone one-on-one.

You grabbed your notebook and headed back to your desk.

"Hey, you okay?" Emily asked you softly when you sat down in front of her.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just gotta figure out how to make sure we don't kill each other in public."

She chuckled. "You're not going to kill each other."

You raised your eyebrow. "Sure--it'll be great."

"You'll be fine," she insisted. "So you wanna go shopping later?"

You nodded. "I've gotta find something to wear to this damn thing. Invite JJ and Garcia too. I need opinions. If I've gotta dress up, I wanna at least look hot."

Emily laughed. "Girl please--you always look hot."

"Thank you, thank you," you said with a mock bow.

"(Y/L/N)," Hotch yelled from his office. "My office. Now."

You closed your eyes and sighed before getting up and heading to the office. You made eye contact with Rossi as he walked back to his own office. He gave you a soft smile and a subtle thumbs up...but you couldn't help but feel nervous as hell.

"Sir?" you asked as you entered his office.

"Close the door," he said without looking at you.

You closed the door and waited silently for him to speak.

"Are you going to sit or just stand there awkwardly?"

"Standing closer to the door gives me a better escape route," you said stubbornly.

Hotch huffed in annoyance. "You're being childish. Sit down."

"Is that an order, sir?"

His body tensed and he clenched his jaw as he gestured to the seat in front of him.

You sat down and crossed your arms, silence stretching out between you.

After an entire minute of silence, you couldn't take it anymore. "I'm assuming you called me in here for a reason?"

"I did." Hotch's gaze finally landed on you. "We need to discuss this op."

"What about it?"

Hotch raised his eyebrows. "How about your reaction when Rossi said we'd be going undercover together?"

"Can you blame me, Hotch? We have to pretend to be romantically involved--but we can barely be in each other's presence without animosity."

"We're professionals, (Y/L/N)."

"May I speak freely, sir?"

"As if you don't already."

"I'm going to take that as a yes," you began. "You don't act like a professional, Hotch. You act like I'm an actual burden to you--like you despise me so much that merely being in my presence makes you angry. You can't even look at me without glaring and you almost never speak to me unless you have to. Can you see why I wouldn't exactly be thrilled about going undercover with you?"

To your surprise, Hotch looked almost hurt by your words. But that quickly turned back to annoyance--maybe even anger. "Can you really blame me? You're not exactly pleasant to be around," he said harshly.

It was your turn to be hurt--and unlike him, you couldn't hide it. You stood up and walked to the door.

"I didn't dismiss you."

You didn't even bother to look back at him. "This conversation is definitely over." You walked out the office door and straight out to the bank of elevators in the hall. You ignored the voices of your teammates calling your name. You just needed to get out of there--you needed air.

Instead of going down, you went up, making your way out to the roof. It was your go-to place to think, and lord knew you needed to think in peace.

You were angry and you needed a moment away from everyone else to calm down--otherwise, you might say something you'll regret. This was one of those moments where you questioned your life choices...and how much you really wanted to keep working at the BAU.

It was your dream job and you loved your team more than anything, but working with Hotch was slowly killing you. You hated the way he made you feel, but more importantly you hated the side of you he brought out. You just didn't like yourself when you were around him.

It hadn't always been that way. When you'd first started, Hotch had actually been nice to you--you might even say he was sweet. You felt accepted by the entire team, your boss included. You just didn't know what had changed. Somehow he was getting even worse and that attitude was pushing you to your limits.

You knew you had to get through this case and deal with the undercover part--the lives of an untold number of girls relied on it. But after that, you really needed to think about what your future was going to look like.

**********

Somehow, you made it through the rest of the day without losing your mind. You and the girls were now out shopping for the perfect dress for this op.

"Okay so I grabbed 15 different dresses in your size," Garcia said with a massive grin when you, Emily, and JJ walked into the store.

"You only got here 10 minutes before us!" you exclaimed.

Garcia just kept smiling. "I excel at speed shopping."

You laughed as she dragged you to the back of the store, the other two following behind you. You went into the dressing room to try on the dresses. Garcia had pulled various styles and colors, some of which were absolutely not your style at all, so you avoided trying those on.

The first dress you put on was just a basic little black dress. You stepped out of the dressing room to let the girls see it.

"Ohh an LBD. Okay," Emily said. "Spin please."

You spun with a chuckle. "What do we think?"

"Hmm. We can do better," Garcia said. "Next!"

You switched into a different black dress, longer this time, but perhaps a little more revealing in the bodice than you'd prefer.

"Ow-ow!" JJ cat called you as you stepped out.

Emily clapped and Garcia let out a little gasp.

"I think it might be a little...much," you said lightly.

Emily laughed. "The girls are coming out to say hi."

"Yeah, I'm gonna try another one."

The next couple dresses you tried on just didn't really speak to you, despite the reactions of your friends. You finally reached a dress that you thought looked nice on the hanger, but you weren't quite sure how it would look on you.

It was a deep emerald green dress in a silky fabric. It was very simply designed, v-necked with thin straps, floor length, with a thigh-high split up one side.

When you put it on, you let out a little gasp as you looked in the mirror. Even with minimal makeup, messy hair, and no shoes, you thought you looked incredible.

"Was that a gasp I just heard?" Garcia asked.

"Maybe," you said with a chuckle as you stepped out of the dressing room.

"Holy shit," Emily mumbled.

"That's the one," JJ said, eyes wide.

"I second that," Garcia agreed.

"You think so?" you asked, timidly.

"Girl, please. You look hot as hell," Emily insisted. "Hotch is probably going to pass out when he sees you."

You laughed. "He won't even notice, Em. You know he doesn't look at me."

"He's a man, (Y/N). He'd have to be blind not to."

"She's right, ya know," JJ said.

"Well I can't say that I wouldn't love to see Hotch fall flat on his face," you said lightly.

"I don't know why you're always so mean to each other," Garcia said with a frown.

"Oh please--he started it," you insisted.

"Hmm," she hummed. "I suppose."

"Enough talk about Hotch. Go change so we can buy that sexy dress and get dinner," Emily cut in.

"Tacos?" you asked.

"Obviously," she agreed.

**********

The next day was spent in the office, preparing for the op the next night. As always, Hotch was moody and distant, but he did try not to snap at you very much.

He wouldn't admit it, but Rossi's words from the day before, as well as your rightful anger, had been weighing on him all night. He didn't mean to be an asshole--well, yes he did. But he didn't want to be. It was self-preservation. He knew what would happen if he was nice to you...the first few weeks of your time in the BAU had given insight into that.

"Hotch," your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked.

You sighed. "You weren't listening, were you?"

He winced. "Sorry."

A look of surprise ghosted across your face. You were certain that was the first and only time he'd ever apologized to you. You shook your head to clear it and repeated your earlier statement. "Somehow these guys are rich enough to actually rent out an entire hotel for a weekend. The event itself is in the hotel ballroom and each of the 'couples' in attendance will have their own rooms, us included. Garcia managed to secure us a room."

"What do we need a hotel room for?" Hotch asked.

You sighed. "I'm not going to explain that one, Hotchner."

Before Hotch could snap at you, Rossi cut in. "The hotel rooms are used for the various interactions between the couples. Each couple is required to have a room in order to participate in the event."

"Besides," Reid continued, "we need the two of you to convince the unsub to come up to your room for (Y/N)."

You winced, a look of disgust covering your face.

"Sorry, (Y/N/N)," Reid said sheepishly.

"It's not your fault the unsub is so sick," you reassured him.

This particular unsub was part of an exclusive group of people who 'traded' women amongst each other for various fees dependent upon what the purchaser wanted the woman for. The unsub would purchase a girl to keep, and eventually murder in a horrifically sadistic and brutal manner.

Essentially, Hotch would be operating as your current 'owner', but once you'd identified the unsub, he'd offer you to him for a sordid fee. You didn't like the concept of any of this, but you wanted to catch this guy so badly.

After a few more hours of planning, it was time to wrap things up and get ready for tomorrow. You were meeting the team at a nearby hotel to get ready and it's where they would be setting up. You and Hotch would depart from there and go directly to the hotel with the event.

**********

At 4:30 the next day, you arrived at the hotel the team was setting up at. Most of the team was already there, the only one missing was Hotch.

"How you feeling, (Y/N)?" Emily asked softly. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be, Em."

"Thanks for showing up," Morgan teased as Hotch walked into the hotel room.

"Shut it, Morgan. I couldn't find my tux."

'Tux?' you mouthed at Emily.

She shrugged. "Guess he wanted to match your level of class," she whispered.

"Actually, tuxes are required," Reid interjected.

"Ahh," you said with a nod.

Emily chuckled lightly and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the bathroom. She gestured to JJ and Garcia to come along. She shut the door behind you all and you jumped up on the bathroom counter.

"Make me pretty," you joked.

"Girl please. You're already gorgeous. We're just accentuating it," Garcia stated with a smile.

"I love you," you said warmly as you pulled her into a hug. "But seriously, who's gonna fix my hair? I look crazy."

JJ laughed. "I'll take the hair. Garcia's gonna handle your makeup and Emily is here for comic relief/emotional support."

The girls got to work on styling your hair and doing your makeup, chatting and laughing together as if you weren't about to go undercover in a freaking lion's den.

While you and the girls were getting ready in the bathroom, the guys were talking over things in the bedroom.

Hotch needed maybe 10 minutes to get changed, so he had some time to kill before he needed to get ready. That time wasn't really a beneficial thing. It allowed him time to think about all kinds of things he really shouldn't be thinking about.

The event was starting at 7, so you needed to be at the other hotel by 6:30 to check into your room. At 6, the girls popped out of the bathroom, leaving you on the other side of the door.

Garcia cleared her throat to get the rest of the team's attention. Everyone turned to face her and she dramatically gestured to the bathroom door. "Presenting the beautiful, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

Emily swung the door open and you stepped out into the main room. Everyone was silent as they took in your look. You felt slightly uncomfortable under their gazes, despite being a very confident woman.

"Damn, girl," Morgan breathed out, the first one to recover.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" Garcia said excitedly.

"She really does," Hotch said softly without realizing it.

Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, but none were as surprised as you. Your eyes met his and you inhaled sharply, breath catching in your chest.

Hotch realized he'd spoken out loud, only because of the look on your face. A dark blush crept into his cheeks and he averted his gaze.

"Thanks, guys," you said softly, taking the attention away from Hotch.

He lifted his gaze back up to you, completely unable to keep his eyes off of you. You looked even more beautiful than usual and you absolutely took his breath away.

You looked back over at Hotch while ignoring the chatter of the rest of the team as they gushed over your look. Your heart was racing so quickly, you were slightly worried someone would be able to hear the pounding.

You'd never seen Hotch look at you the way he was looking at you in this moment. You felt almost small under his gaze and if you didn't think it sounded insane, you would say he almost looked hungry as he gazed at you.

"I guess I should change too," Hotch said lightly, eyes not quite meeting yours.

"Oh, right." You stepped out of the way so he could go into the bathroom to change into his tux. You walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, suddenly feeling a bit faint.

JJ noticed immediately and came over to sit beside you. "You okay?" she murmured.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous," you lied smoothly.

It was obvious she didn't believe you, but she didn't say anything. She simply wrapped her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug. It was just what you needed to feel grounded.

After several minutes, Hotch came out of the bathroom wearing a very well-fitted black tux. Much in the same way he looked at you in shock when you came out, your eyes widened as you took him in.

"You clean up nice," Rossi teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Hotch muttered. He looked up at you, eyes not quite meeting yours. "Should we head out?"

You nodded and stood up, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the night ahead.

"We'll be close by if you need us," Rossi assured you both as you started out the door. "Garcia will be monitoring the cameras in the ballroom."

You nodded again as Hotch opened the door and gestured for you to go first. "We've got this," he said firmly.

The ride to the other hotel was silent...and not the comfortable kind. You hated it, but you couldn't think of a single thing to say, and apparently neither could he.

When you arrived at the hotel, Hotch handed the keys to the valet, took your arm as you got out of the car, and guided you into the hotel lobby.

"Good evening, sir," the front desk lady said. "May I have your last name please?"

"Carter," Hotch said smoothly.

The woman checked the computer and offered the two of you a smile. "Your room is on the 7th floor," she handed Hotch the room keys before continuing, "elevators are to your left. Please let us know if there's anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant."

"Thank you very much," Hotch responded.

Once the two of you made it to the room, you separated from each other as if your skin burned. You made quick work of searching the room for cameras and/or listening devices. Finding none, you finally relaxed a little and spoke to each other.

"Call Rossi," you said. "We're a go."

Hotch glared at you, clearly annoyed at your commands, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he simply called Rossi, told him the room number, and said he'd be in touch.

"We have 20 minutes until we need to be downstairs for the party," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

You sat down in an arm chair on the opposite side of the room. "Shall we sit in silence until then?"

Hotch shot you another glare. "Perhaps we should discuss our plan?"

"What's to discuss? You know the plan as well as I do. Just pretend to actually like each other for long enough to find the unsub. Sound manageable?"

He winced as if you'd hit him, but quickly recovered. It did not, however, go unnoticed by you. "If you're silent, I think I can handle it," he snapped back.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't worry, I'm excellent at faking sweetness."

10 minutes passed in complete silence. You felt bad for being so nasty to him, but it was all you ever did. You didn't banter...you fought, and neither of you knew how to pull a punch.

Much to your surprise, Hotch broke the silence first. "Have you always hated me so much?"

You turned to look at him. He actually looked wounded and it made your expression soften. "I don't hate you, Hotch."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Do you hate me?" you asked softly.

He looked surprised. "Of course not."

"Coulda fooled me," you said, echoing his response.

He looked down at the floor. "I know I'm an asshole, (Y/N), but I don't hate you."

You were silent for a moment. "That's the first time you've called me by my first name since I first joined the BAU."

His gaze met yours. "It is?"

You simply nodded.

He returned the nod thoughtfully. "I don't mean to be like this, you know."

"Well you're not like this with anyone else on the team, so I can only assume you have something against me specifically."

He shook his head. "I don't, but it's just--it's hard to explain." He fell silent, refusing to allow himself to elaborate further.

You sighed and stood up. "Come on. We might as well head downstairs."

He nodded again and joined you at the door.

"Remember," you said softly. "Pretend to like each other."

You opened the door and the op began.

**********

Hotch's hand rested firmly on your lower back as you walked into the hotel ballroom. You closed your eyes briefly, silently willing your body to not react to the feeling of his hand on you or the proximity of his body to yours.

Unfortunately, he felt the tension in your back against his palm. "Relax," he murmured in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hated your body for reacting so intensely to him, and you cursed quietly under your breath, earning a deep chuckle from Hotch.

You wanted to glare at him for laughing at you, but you knew there were eyes on you both. You decided to lean into the role you were supposed to be playing, while also getting back at him.

You placed your hand on his chest and leaned your body into him, giving him a whiff of your perfume. You felt him tense against you and you grinned. "You okay there, handsome?" you teased.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, but you noticed the slight flush in his cheeks. He knew what you were doing, but he was quite sure you weren't aware of what you were really doing to him.

He guided you farther into the large ballroom, eyes scanning the room for men that fit the profile. Unfortunately, almost every man in the room fit the profile almost perfectly.

"Are you paying attention?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Sir," you hissed in annoyance.

He bit back a groan, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Don't," he mumbled.

"Don't what?" you asked teasingly, knowing exactly what got to him.

He shot you a look that sent a wave of heat straight to your core. Your eyes must have betrayed you, because his expression changed to an almost wolfish look that had your pulse racing.

"Behave," he snapped. The harshness in his voice surprised you, until you saw the couple watching you from the corner of your eye. Hotch had slid seamlessly into his role, so you slipped back into yours.

Your eyes looked down and your body language screamed 'submissive', which was what you knew the unsub would want to see. The man nodded at Hotch, clearly appreciating his dominant control over you. Hotch inclined his head at the man, signaling his respect.

Once the couple was out of earshot, you whispered, "One down."

Hotch nodded. "500 to go." It was an exaggeration, but it felt like he was right.

For the next hour, the two of you made it through the room several times, eliminating almost every man there. You were starting to lose hope that you were going to find the unsub, but Hotch was refusing to give up.

Your eyes were dancing around the room when they landed on a man several feet away from you. You hadn't noticed him before, but he was watching you, eyes taking in your appearance with a dangerous hunger.

You turned your head into Hotch's shoulder, so the man could no longer see your face. "Your 2 o'clock," you whispered.

Hotch glanced in that direction and his grip on your waist tightened almost possessively. You instantly knew he agreed with your instincts and his protective nature kicked into high gear.

You felt Hotch move his head, gesturing for the man to come over to you. He leaned down to murmur against your hair, "He's coming this way."

"Hello there," the man said as he reached you. "Who do we have here?"

He was clearly talking about you, so Hotch turned your body towards him, allowing the man to have a clearer view of you. "This is Anna," he lied smoothly. "My favorite girl."

You kept your head inclined to express a very submissive nature, but you allowed yourself to gaze up at the man through your lashes. He was looking at you with an intensity that made your skin crawl, but you didn't show it.

"Anna," he said softly. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you, sir," you murmured.

"And so well-behaved." The man looked up at Hotch. "You've trained her well."

Hotch smiled. "She's a very quick learner." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "A little violence goes a long way with this one."

The man hummed lightly, clearly pleased with that information. "Is she available?"

"What did you have in mind?" Hotch asked.

"I was thinking something permanent."

Hotch pretended to think about it, looking slightly disinterested.

"I can pay very well," the man insisted. "I pay extra for complete discretion."

"Discretion is obviously included," Hotch said simply.

The man shook his head slightly. "Complete discretion. After I make the purchase, I expect utter silence on your part, regardless of what may happen."

"Should I be concerned about 'what may happen'?" he asked lightly.

"I'll make it worth your while to not be concerned."

Hotch looked down at you. "How much?"

"$500,000."

Hotch laughed. "She's worth more than that."

"My apologies. I'll give you the 500,000 for discretion and 1 million for the girl."

Every single fiber of your being was telling you this man was the unsub you were looking for and you had a feeling Hotch felt the same way.

Hotch nodded. "You've got yourself a deal."

The man smiled. "I'll transfer the money to whatever account you wish."

Hotch gave him a government-controlled bank account to wire the money to.

Back at the other hotel, Garcia received a notification that the account had received 1.5 million dollars. "Alright, guys. It's go-time. I just got 1.5 million dollars for something...I'm assuming it's for (Y/N). Hotch is talking with a man now."

Rossi and Morgan leaned over her shoulder to look at the camera feed. "Let's roll," Morgan said.

Morgan, Rossi, Reid, and Emily headed out to the other hotel. The plan was to pick up the unsub once you were transferred to his possession.

Hotch's phone dinged with a notification from Garcia informing him the money had been transferred. He looked up at the other man with a smile. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. She's all yours."

"Excellent. Come along, Anna. We have much to do," the man said firmly as he grabbed your arm to guide you away from Hotch.

You felt Hotch's tension as you were pulled away from him, but you didn't look back. You knew if you did, it would give you away.

The moment the man was out of earshot, Hotch called Garcia. "Don't lose her," he said firmly.

"On it, sir."

Garcia watched the man guide you through the ballroom towards the bank of elevators. The cameras in the elevator showed how clearly uncomfortable you were and it made Garcia upset to watch. The unsub's hands were all over you, but you didn't pull away--you couldn't.

The elevator doors opened and the cameras in the hallway showed the unsub leading you into room 456.

"They're in room 456," Garcia said over the phone.

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Hotch was running across the ballroom towards the elevators. As he waited for the elevator, the rest of the team came into the building.

Hotch held the elevator doors opened and the other four jumped inside and headed up to the 4th floor. When they reached room 456, Emily knocked on the door. "Housekeeping," she called.

A few moments later, the unsub opened the door, looking annoyed. His expression quickly turned to surprise as 5 FBI agents busted into his room.

Hotch looked around the room for you, ignoring what was happening with the unsub behind him. His gaze landed on you and he relaxed immediately. You shot him a small smile and waved your fingers at him from the bed.

He rushed over to you. "Are you okay?" he asked gently as he pulled out a knife and quickly cut the rope that bound your arms to the headboard.

"I am now," you said softly, rubbing your wrists slightly.

"You did good," he commented.

"So did you."

He helped you off the bed and you straightened your dress before making your way over to the unsub. "Gotcha," you said with a smile as you patted his cheek.

Hotch nodded to Rossi and Morgan and they escorted him out of the room. Emily and Reid followed, but Hotch grabbed your arm to keep you from following them. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly.

You smiled. "He didn't do anything other than tie me to the bed and awkwardly fondle me, Hotch. I promise I'm okay."

He looked angry for a moment. "I hate that he touched you."

You shrugged. "It wasn't great, but I'll live." You grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's go."

He followed you out of the room and downstairs. The team loaded up in their vehicles and headed back to the other hotel for Garcia and JJ, while Rossi and Morgan took the unsub back to the BAU for questioning.

Garcia and JJ were packing everything up when you walked into the room.

"You're okay!" Garcia squealed as she ran across the room to hug you.

You laughed. "I'm perfectly fine, Pen. I promise."

JJ gave you a hug too before helping Garcia carry stuff out to the car. Everyone else cleared out, but you and Hotch stayed behind to change.

"We'll meet you guys back at the office. Tell Rossi to get started without us," Hotch said firmly as he ushered Emily and Reid out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

"I was kind of looking forward to interrogating him," you complained.

"I'm not letting him anywhere near you again," Hotch growled.

"Little possessive aren't we?"

His eyes met yours and your breath caught in your chest. His pupils were blown wide and his gaze was incredibly intense. Your heart began to beat rapidly and your breathing became more shallow.

You'd never wanted him more badly than you wanted him in this moment, but you found you couldn't move. It was as if your feet had grown roots.

Hotch, on the other hand, began to slowly walk towards you, like a predator hunting his prey. He stopped mere inches from you, so close you could feel his breath against your lips.

He leaned forward, pinning you against the wall, his arms caging you in. "Tell me to stop," he whispered.

"No," you breathed out.

He groaned softly and you watched as the last remnants of his self-control faded away. Without warning, he slammed his lips against yours, taking your breath away.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. His body collapsed against yours, pressing into you deliciously.

His lips began to move to your jaw and down to your neck, sucking your skin and leaving little bite marks as he went.

"Aaron," you whimpered softly.

He moaned against your skin, nipping at your pulse point. "Say my name again."

You gave the hair at the nape of his neck a tug and whispered his name again.

He looked up at you, eyes black with lust. "I wanna take my time with you," he murmured.

"We don't have time," you said softly. "The team's gonna wonder what's taking so long."

"I don't care," he growled. "I've been wanting to do this for years."

You groaned, the mere idea that he'd wanted you for so long was a massive turn on. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots gently. "Then you can wait a little longer, baby."

"Fuck," he mumbled, hands tightening on your hips. "I'll take my time with you later. Lift that dress up, baby. Wanna touch you."

You didn't need to be told twice. You lifted up the skirt of the dress so it was around your waist, revealing your black lace thong.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw your underwear and you grinned. "Didn't want panty lines."

He grabbed the edge of the lace and ripped it with ease.

"Aaron!"

"What? You won't need them." He slipped a finger between your folds, effectively silencing your response. "So wet for me," he groaned.

Your head leaned back against the wall and you let out a soft moan. Your fingers reached for his belt, quickly removing it before fiddling with the button and zipper on his pants.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it away. You were about to protest, but he made much faster work of removing his pants than you would have. He pulled his boxers down just enough to release his hard cock, stroking it as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Fuck me, please," you begged.

"I can't say no when you beg so sweetly," he said softly.

You clutched at his shoulders and lifted your hips up to meet his hands. He chuckled lightly at your neediness, but he couldn't deny his own need any longer. In one swift movement, he sheathed himself inside of you completely.

You gasped as you dug your nails into him, trying to adjust to his size. His length and girth stretched you out almost painfully. You wrapped your right leg around his waist and begged him to move.

He started to thrust up into you, your moans mixing with the salacious sounds of your bodies meeting.

"You feel so good, (Y/N)," he moaned into your ear. "Could stay between these pretty legs forever."

"Faster," you begged.

He chuckled darkly and sped up his thrusts. You gasped loudly, pleasure overwhelming you.

"Squeezing me so tight, baby."

"So close," you gasped.

"Yeah? You wanna cum, pretty girl?"

"Please," you whimpered.

"Not yet," he growled.

You let out a soft whimper as he continued to thrust into you. He was struggling to keep his own orgasm at bay, but he wanted to make sure yours was as intense as he could make it before he came.

"Fuck, baby, you're so beautiful."

"Wanna cum," you cried softly.

He thrust into you as hard and fast as he could. "Cum for me, baby."

You cried out as your release hit you with overwhelming force. You clenched tightly around him as you came, drawing deep moans from his chest.

"Squeezing me so good...gonna cum, baby," he groaned out.

You felt him slow slightly and you worried he was going to pull out. "Inside me, please--Aaron, wanna feel you fill me up," you begged quickly.

"Baby, you sure?"

You nodded rapidly. "Please--need it."

He leaned into you, lips against your throat as he thrust into you a couple more times before he came inside of you, filling you with his seed. He groaned your name against your skin as he came down from his high.

You were both breathless as he slowly slid out of you. His hands didn't leave your hips, which you were thankful for. You were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to stand up without his support.

"You alright, (Y/N)?" he asked softly as he kissed your temple.

"More than alright."

He smiled. "Me too."

You chuckled as you looked up at him. "We--uh...we should probably clean up and get back to the office."

He nodded and pulled away from you a little. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry--"

"Nothing to be sorry for, Aaron. I wanted that as badly as you did."

He looked back up at you, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception. The fact that you'd used his first name and the look of affection on your face solidified his belief that you were serious.

"For the record, I'd like to do this again later," you said softly as you took in his gentle expression.

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

You bit your lip and nodded.

He groaned softly. "Don't play coy now, (Y/N)."

You grinned and pulled him in for a deep kiss, one he returned happily. When you separated, you pulled yourself off the wall and went to adjust your dress. As soon as you stood up straight, his cum began to seep out onto your thighs.

"Shit," you mumbled.

"What?"

"Well, you ruined my underwear and now I'm going to get cum all over my dress."

He grinned. "Good thing you brought clothes to change into."

"I didn't bring another pair of underwear!"

"Sorry, gorgeous. Guess you'll have to just sit with your thighs clenched together."

You smacked him affectionately as he started to take off the rest of his tux so he could change.

"You're terrible," you grumbled lightly. You grabbed your clothes and went into the bathroom to change. When you came back out, he was dressed and ready to go.

He looked slightly uncomfortable, as if the realization of everything that had happened just dawned on him. "We, uh--we should probably talk about this..."

Your expression hardened slightly, unsure of what he was trying to say. Did he regret it? "We can talk about it later. Let's just get back to Quantico."

Hotch nodded, noticing the way you'd closed up when he'd mentioned talking. He couldn't deny that he was worried--and perhaps slightly ashamed that he'd given in to his primal desires. He just had to hope you didn't hate him.

You stayed quiet for the whole ride back to Quantico, leaving Hotch to wonder silently if he'd really and truly messed things up for good.

**********

After the interviews were completed and the unsub had confessed to all of the murders, it was almost 2am. You were beyond ready to go home, as was the rest of the team.

Everyone was leaving except for Hotch. He watched as you started to make your way towards the elevators. He knew he needed to make a decision...

The elevator doors closed with you inside and his decision was made for him. He figured he could talk to you on Monday...or maybe just never bring it up ever again. Maybe that's what you'd prefer.

You'd never admit it to anyone, but you went home that night and cried yourself to sleep. You should have known better--hell you did know better. Giving yourself over that easily was embarrassing...especially when you did it with your boss.

Hotch didn't call that night, nor the next day, and when you came to work on Monday, he tried to catch your eye, but you ignored him more harshly than you ever had before.

Two weeks went by in much the same way. You wouldn't even look in his direction and he desperately tried to think of something to say. The longer this went on, the harder it was for him to say something.

Friday night came and the team wanted to go out for drinks. You declined, opting instead to go home and curl up on your couch.

Hotch overheard your explanation to JJ, telling her you were too tired. He decided tonight would be the night when he would man up and actually talk to you.

A little before 6pm, there was a knock at your door. You were already in your pjs and you'd ordered Chinese food for dinner, so you assumed it was your delivery.

When you opened the door, you were shocked to see a soaking wet Aaron Hotchner standing at your door.

"Well you're not the Chinese delivery guy," you grumbled.

He held up the bag of Chinese food in his hand. "Caught him on the way in. He was more than happy to hand it to me so he could get out of the rain."

You sighed. "Come in then, before you get pneumonia."

He followed you into your townhouse, shutting the door behind him. He stopped in the entryway, clothes dripping all over the floor.

"I'll get you a couple towels."

"Thanks," he said sheepishly.

Even after toweling himself off, he was still soaking wet. He removed his coat and his suit jacket, leaving him in his white button down, which in its current state, did nothing to hide the body beneath it.

You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze. "So what brings you to my house in the pouring rain on a Friday night?"

"I...I thought we could talk," he mumbled.

You gestured to your dining table. "Pull up a seat. I got enough Chinese food for 4 people."

He sat down at the table across from you and you silently pulled out the different containers.

"Just don't touch the potstickers," you said lightly, the ghost of a smile playing across your lips.

He chuckled. "I learned my lesson on that one."

A couple years ago, the team had gotten Chinese food to sustain them on a late night of work. Hotch made the mistake of taking the last potsticker mere seconds before you came back for it. Every other person on the team knew better than to take the last one without asking you first and Hotch learned first-hand that night how aggressive you got about potstickers.

The two of you ate in silence for a little while. Since he'd come here without warning, you decided to simply wait him out. If he had something he wanted to say, he'd need to just come out and say it.

You were half-tempted to start humming the Jeopardy tune when Hotch finally spoke up.

"Sorry for stopping by unannounced."

"It's alright. I didn't have any exciting plans anyway," you said, gesturing to the containers on the table.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you weren't about to ease his pain. You were still annoyed with him.

"So I--I think I owe you an apology," he began.

You raised your eyebrows.

"I do owe you an apology," he corrected.

"Go on."

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "I shouldn't have done what I did that night at the hotel."

"In what sense?"

"I shouldn't have slept with you," he said softly.

You winced, but he wasn't looking at your face, so he missed your expression. "Right," you snapped, standing up. "Well if that's all--"

He finally looked up at you and you saw the pain in his eyes. It softened your heart and your expression. "Please," he whispered. "Just let me finish."

You sighed and sat back down.

"Can I start over?" he asked.

You nodded. "Please do."

"Do you remember when you first joined the team?"

"Of course."

"So do I. Better than I should, actually," he mumbled. "When you first started, I thought you were amazing. You were so incredibly smart, but so humble. You made me laugh, you brightened my day every single day...you made me feel something I wasn't sure I'd ever feel."

You inhaled softly, his words stirring something inside of you that you weren't sure you wanted to feel.

"Those first few weeks were incredible and I was so glad that you'd joined the team--not just because I enjoyed your company, but because of how good of a profiler you are. I realized there was a problem pretty early on and it changed everything for me." He sighed. "I started to treat you differently from the rest of the team and I'll admit I took it a little too far. I thought if I pushed you as far away as I could, then I wouldn't want you anymore."

He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. He started pacing the length of the dinning room, eyes trained on the floor. "The thing is, you'd already managed to wedge yourself in my heart and nothing I did changed that. I kept telling myself that I'm your boss and I can't feel what I feel for you--that I can't have you. I was so angry at the whole situation that I started taking it out on you--and you didn't deserve that." He finally looked up at you. "You don't deserve that."

There were tears in your eyes, but you didn't say a word--you couldn't.

"The night of the op...I struggled to keep my composure from the moment you walked out in that dress. You looked so incredibly beautiful--you took my breath away. But when we walked into that ballroom and those men looked at you so hungrily...it disgusted me. The mere thought of any one of them touching you made me sick to my stomach, especially knowing what kind of people they were."

He looked angry even in that moment, as if talking about it was unbearable.

"My natural protective instincts kicked in and I almost forgot what we were there to do. I know I teased you a little and I'm sorry about that--it was unprofessional."

"You weren't the only one doing the teasing," you reminded him gently.

He smiled slowly. "True. But still. I shouldn't have done that." He clenched his jaw. "But when Andrew Connors looked at you, I saw red. I knew he was the unsub before he even came over to us. The way he looked at you...it terrified me. Then I had to watch him walk away with you and I couldn't breathe, (Y/N). The thought of something happening to you was overwhelming."

"I didn't know," you whispered.

"I've gotten very good at hiding what I'm feeling," he conceded. "When we busted into his hotel room and I didn't see you right away...my brain jumped to the worst conclusions. But then I saw you and you looked uncomfortable, but alive. I've never felt relief like that in my life."

You offered him a small smile and he continued.

"When you told me that he'd touched you, I almost lost it, but you were so calm. It didn't bother you the way it bothered me, and I realized that part of the reason I was so upset was because of how I thought of you--the possessiveness I felt--like you were mine. I couldn't stand the thought of him touching what belonged to me."

He paused. "I'm not saying you belong to me--that's just how it felt to me in that moment," he clarified. "By the time we got back to the hotel, I was so worked up I could hardly control myself. That sassy little attitude of yours was the last straw and I broke."

"You didn't actually break--I invited you in," you said softly.

"I literally caged you against a wall."

"And you asked me to tell you to stop. I didn't want you to."

His expression shifted slightly. "You didn't? Like even now looking back?"

You laughed mirthlessly. "Hotch, did you really think you forced yourself on me?"

He nodded slowly.

"You know me better than that. If I didn't want to do it, it wouldn't have happened."

"I just thought that maybe you were feeling confused and pent-up like I was and you just gave in because I was there."

"Do you know how terrible that sounds?"

"You're so out of my league it's not even funny--and I'm your boss! Are you really so surprised that's what I was thinking?!"

You inhaled sharply. "I'm not out of your league, Aaron Hotchner."

"Of course you are!" he insisted.

You groaned in annoyance. "How many men have I dated since I joined the BAU?"

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"How many?" you asked again.

"I...I don't know. You've never mentioned anyone."

You nodded. "That's because there hasn't been a single man. Not one."

"Not one? How is that possible?"

"Not a single one. Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"You," you said simply.

"Me?"

"I wanted you from the moment we met and for some damn reason that's never changed, even with the way we treated each other."

His face was filled with complete and utter shock, which surprised you.

"You're a profiler, Aaron," you teased. "Did you really not know?"

He shook his head. "Maybe I just didn't want to believe it."

"Why not?"

"Because then I wouldn't have an excuse to keep us apart."

"And now?" you whispered.

He crossed the space between you and grabbed your hand, pulling you up out of your chair. "I can't take any of this back, (Y/N), and to be honest, I don't want to."

You gently caressed his face. "Something real?" you asked softly.

He turned his face into your hand and kissed your palm. "Something real," he confirmed.

You stood on your tiptoes and pulled him down to kiss you, his lips softly caressing yours. You moaned softly as you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. His arms snaked around your lower body, pulling you flush against him.

When you finally separated to breathe, Hotch leaned his forehead against yours. "I don't want to be presumptuous--" he began.

"Bedroom is the first room on the left," you murmured.

He chuckled. "You read my mind."

He slid his hands under your thighs and pulled you up with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist with a giggle as he carried you to your bedroom.

"So strong, Agent Hotchner," you teased warmly.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I like these titles you use."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed."

He tossed you down onto the bed and you laughed lightly.

"What are you gonna do to me, sir?"

He groaned softly. "You're going to be the death of me, beautiful."

You smiled and leaned back on your elbows. "I certainly hope not. I have plans for you."

"Sounds ominous," he teased.

You grinned. "You're going to love it, I promise. Now, why don't you lose those wet clothes?"

He smiled. "Only because you asked so sweetly." He started to unbutton his shirt tantalizingly slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

You bit your lip as you watched him, silently begging him to speed it up.

After what felt like an eternity he slid the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor, but of course he was still wearing his undershirt. He started to very slowly lift it up, eliciting a groan from you.

"Aaron."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright." He pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the floor.

You let out a little hum of approval, which made him blush. He was a confident man, but he felt very exposed under your gaze.

He shed his pants quickly, leaving nothing on but his boxers. You eyed the bulge appreciatively, the memories of his size on the forefront of your mind.

"I think you're a little overdressed, baby," he teased lightly.

You looked down at your t-shirt and pj pants. "Hmm...you might be right." You yanked your shirt off in one smooth motion, tossing it to the side before looking back at him.

He practically pounced onto the bed, eyes glued to your torso. "No bra?" he whispered.

"I wasn't expecting company."

"I'm not complaining," he said almost reverently as he hovered over you, hands touching your sides.

He licked his lips before kissing you softly, moving down the column of your throat down towards your breasts. He swirled his tongue around your nipple before giving it a light nip as he took it into his mouth.

Your back arched towards him and a soft moan left your lips. Your hands immediately went to his broad shoulders, holding onto him as he toyed with you.

His hands slid down your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he went. He didn't want to let go of you, but he needed to remove your pants. He was dying to bury himself between your legs.

You wiggled your hips to help him as he tugged off your pjs. "Baby," he groaned, as you laid before him completely bare. "Never wear underwear ever again."

You laughed lightly. "If you promise to keep looking at me like that, I'll burn every pair I own."

He grinned wolfishly. "I'll make it worth your while."

He gripped your thighs and tugged your legs apart with gentle force. You gasped softly and his eyes flicked up to you to make sure you were okay. What he saw had him moaning with need of his own.

Your eyes were hooded and filled with lust, lips parted, a warm blush heating your face. You bit your lip when you caught him staring and shifted your hips slightly to get his attention back where you wanted it.

He gave you a little smirk before lowering himself comfortably between your legs. He nipped at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, hands massaging your hips gently.

"Aaron," you whined.

"Patience, sweetheart," he mumbled.

You whimpered softly, but you had a feeling he would make it worth the wait.

His lips slowly made their way towards your core, warming your body from the outside in. After what felt like an eternity, his tongue finally darted out sliding between your folds with ease.

You gasped in pleasure as he settled in, mouth moving against your core with expert precision. Every swipe of his tongue, movement of his lips, and vibration from his moans had you shivering with pleasure.

It didn't take him very long to work you into a heated frenzy. Within minutes, you were coming apart on his tongue, cries of his name reverberating through the bedroom. Your fingers clutched his dark hair, giving it a light tug when the pleasure became too much.

He lifted himself up, licking his lips as he eyed you with a dark look. His ministrations had only served to fuel his hunger and you could tell he was struggling to maintain his control.

"Can I taste you?" you asked sweetly.

Surprise lit up his features. "You--you don't have to."

You furrowed your brows. "I want to--badly."

He nodded hesitantly, rolling over to allow you access. He helped you remove his boxers and you inhaled sharply when his cock sprang free. You hadn't gotten a very good look at it the last time, but you'd known it was large. Now seeing it, all you wanted to do was feel the weight against your tongue.

You gripped the shaft firmly, pulling a soft moan from his throat. You licked your lips before pressing kisses to the head, the shaft, and his balls. You traced the large vein on the shaft with your tongue before slipping his large member into your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned, hands immediately wrapping themselves in your hair.

Your mouth was so warm and wet, and the way you moved had him breathing heavily and making the sexiest sounds you'd ever heard. Each one spurred you on and your motions quickened.

"Just like that baby," he moaned. "Feels amazing."

You hummed appreciatively around his cock, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure through his body. His hips jerked up to meet your mouth and you gagged slightly.

A look of panic crossed his face at the sound, but when he looked down at you, it was clear you didn't mind. You pushed yourself a little lower onto his cock, gagging again as you took him into your throat. You wanted to make sure he knew you were into it.

He was surprised by how much it turned him on, his moans becoming almost embarrassingly loud. "Gonna cum if you keep doing that," he said lowly.

You sped up slightly, the only signal you gave him that you wanted exactly that--his cum pouring down your throat.

Moments later, he gasped your name as he came, and you swallowed every drop he gave you. You paid special attention to the head of his cock as he came down from his high, making sure to prolong his pleasure as much as possible.

He tugged your hair gently, pulling you off of him and up to his face so he could kiss you. When you separated, he was completely breathless.

"Where--" he breathed deeply, trying to steady his heart rate. "Where did you learn...to do...that?"

You grinned. "A magician never reveals her secrets," you teased with a wink.

He chuckled. "Best I've ever had, hands down."

You blushed. "Thank you."

"Thank you," he countered. He flipped you onto your back and climbed on top of you again.

"Oh!" you gasped in surprise as your back hit the mattress. "We're not done?"

He looked surprised. "Do you wanna be?"

You shook your head rapidly, causing him to laugh. "It's just--in my experience, most men are one and done."

"Oh baby, you've been hanging out with all the wrong men," he teased. "Besides, you only came once."

Your brows knit together in confusion. "So...?"

"I need at least two more from you."

"Two more? I've never cum more than once during sex."

"Oh now that sounds like a challenge," he said devilishly. "And I love a good challenge."

You blushed a little and wiggled slightly under him.

"Hey," he said softly. "We don't have to do anything you don't wanna do. Tell me to stop and I will, no matter what."

You smiled warmly and touched his cheek. "I appreciate that. I want you...I'm just not used to the whole 'multiple orgasms' thing."

He kissed your palm. "May I try?"

You nodded slowly. "Please..."

"I'll go slow, baby."

In a split second, you decided you didn't want him to go slow. You wanted him to ruin you and you had a pretty good idea how to rile him up.

"I want you to fuck me until I can't walk, sir." You put a lot of emphasis on the title, hoping it would have the desired effect.

You weren't disappointed. His eyes darkened instantly and his grip on your hips tightened. "Is that what you want, huh? You want me to use this sweet little pussy for my own pleasure?"

You inhaled sharply, desire evident in your expression. "Make me scream," you begged.

Hotch shifted his body and thrust into you without any warning, earning a cry of pained pleasure from your lips. "I can't deny such a pretty little request," he growled before he began to pound into you, setting a brutal pace.

You cried out again as the pain faded away, leaving only white hot pleasure in its wake. Your nails clawed at his back, finding purchase anywhere they could.

"Shit, baby--this pussy was made for me," he mumbled against the shell of your ear.

"Oh god," you moaned loudly.

"Keep making those pretty little sounds for me, baby."

His thrusts were measured and precise, each one hitting your sweet spot and sending waves of pleasure through you. Every inch of your body was on fire, from the tips of your toes up to the roots of your hair. You had never in your life felt this incredible and you never wanted it to end.

"Aaron," you gasped. "I'm so--so close."

"Fuck--" he growled. "Say my name again."

"Aaron."

Somehow his pace increased and it sent you tumbling right over the edge. You came with surprising force, pussy pulsating around his cock. As badly as he would have liked to keep his pace, he had to slow down to avoid cumming too.

"That's it, baby," he murmured against your neck. "Doing so well for me. Gonna give me one more?"

You hadn't been sure it was possible for you to have two orgasms, let alone three, but you were 100% willing to try. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for him.

"Can you use those words for me, pretty girl?"

"Yes, sir," you murmured.

He groaned and began to pick up his pace again. "That's my good girl."

Your eyes widened and your nails dug into his flesh slightly. The burning sensation caught his attention and he smiled. "You like that don't you? You wanna be my good girl?"

You nodded hastily. "Yes, sir. Please. I'll be so good for you."

He grinned. "Of course you will, baby."

He shifted his weight and pulled your legs up to his chest, allowing him to thrust even more deeply inside of you. His thrusts never faltered, his pace remained steady.

You whimpered below him, the pleasure almost too much. Your body was so sensitive, but you didn't want him to stop. "Please," you whispered.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

He kissed your leg softly before sliding a hand down between your thighs. He began to gently circle your clit as he continued pounding into you. Your moans grew in volume and your legs began to shake as the pleasure built.

"I know you're close, baby," he groaned. "I need you to cum for me."

You moaned as he increased the pressure on your clit. The feeling of his hands on you, his cock filling you up so thoroughly, and the gentle skill of his fingers combined to send you to the very edge.

You knew you needed something more--but you weren't sure if he would be comfortable with it. Neither of you had exactly had time to discuss what you were into in the bedroom.

You reached up and grabbed his hand from your leg, pulling it towards your face. He watched you, a look of confusion marring his handsome features. You placed his hand on the base of your neck, giving it a light squeeze to ensure he knew what you wanted.

His eyes widened, but he didn't move his hand. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

You nodded quickly. "Please, Aaron--I need it."

He groaned lowly and added a small amount of pressure to your throat, not enough to choke you, but enough for you to know he was there and he was in control.

You gasped in pleasure, the mixture of the various sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Within moments, you were crying out as you came, body shaking beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

"Shit--" he moaned loudly. "I'm gonna--gonna cum."

"Fill me up," you begged.

It was all he needed to hear to cum, a cry of your name falling from his lips. His cock filled with you with what felt like an endless amount of his seed, his orgasm lasting for several seconds.

Finally, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. He kissed whatever skin he could reach as he tried to catch his breath.

"That was pretty decent," you said breathily, a teasing tone lacing your voice.

"Just decent?" he asked, head lifting to glare at you affectionately.

"Sooooo decent."

He laughed and you shot him a grin.

"Seriously, Aaron. It was fucking amazing."

"I couldn't agree more. I can stay here forever." He kissed your jaw. "Unless I'm hurting you?"

You shook your head. "I kinda like your body weight on top of me. Feels nice."

"Good because I don't think I can move yet."

You laughed warmly and wrapped your arms around him to hold him tightly against you. "You're pretty cute like this."

"Did you just call me cute?" he mumbled against your skin.

"Mhmm."

"Thanks, baby," he said with a little chuckle. "You're pretty damn cute too."

"Just cute?" you teased.

He lifted his head to look at you and smiled warmly. "You are absolutely the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. And right now? God...literal perfection."

You blushed, your entire face turning red. "Aaron..."

"I'm serious, (Y/N)."

"Thank you," you said softly.

He lifted himself up so he could look down at you better. "I'm going to tell you every second of every day so you don't forget."

You laughed lightly. "You're a dork."

"And you're sexy."

You laughed harder. "I kinda like this game."

He kissed you gently before sitting up entirely. "How 'bout I run a bath for you, hmm?"

"That sounds nice."

You watched him as he walked to your adjoining bathroom and began to fill up the tub. You smiled as you watched him, feeling incredibly happy. He was so handsome and sweet...just like you'd thought he was when you first met him.

You had never been thankful for an unsub or a case before...but you were thankful for this one. This case changed everything for you and you had a strong feeling the change was going to be permanent.

Hotch turned around to look at you with a warm smile and you felt it in your bones, this deep adoration for the man in front of you. You felt happy for the first time in years, really and truly happy--and you knew it was going to last forever.

[sage-lights]

with you, there's no pretending

word count: 2165 chapter: 1/? Ever since freshman orientation, when Angela first noticed Amanda sitting in the gym bleachers, she’d been head-over-heels in love with her.

Angela was going to kill Arasha.  

Earlier that week, Arasha asked Angela if she could interview her about playing Grace Chasity in their high school’s upcoming production of Nerdy Prudes Must Die. Arasha eagerly volunteered to write this article for her journalism class, hoping that Angela’s insight would help her assignment stand out. Angela knew her friend had been working all year to impress her teacher and secure the position of Editor-in-Chief for the next school year.  

Just for fun, Angela made her best friend beg, playfully acting stubborn and difficult about the request—much to Chanse's amusement, who had a blast recording the whole thing and laughing at the two of them. In the end, Angela agreed, and the girls made plans to meet at their favorite local coffee shop on Saturday.  

That morning, she took Spork to the vet for a routine checkup, which, thankfully, hadn’t taken longer than anticipated. After making a quick stop to drop him off at home, Angela arrived at the coffee shop just in time to find a table near the back before the usual afternoon rush filled the place. She sat facing the door so Arasha could easily spot her when she arrived, then mindlessly scrolled on her phone to pass the time.  

Out of the corner of her eye, Angela noticed a girl with long, wavy brunette hair enter the coffee shop. She looked up, expecting to see her friend rushing over to greet her. But instead, in her place stood Amanda Lehan-Canto.  

Ever since freshman orientation, when Angela first noticed Amanda sitting in the gym bleachers, she’d been head-over-heels in love with her. She remembered leaning over and whispering (a little too loudly judging from the pointed looks the kids in front of them had given her) to ask Chanse who the new girl was.  

“Who are you talking about? There’s like a million people here,” Chanse responded, wildly swiveling his head around trying to figure out who Angela was referring to.  

Angela slapped his arm and pointed discreetly to the girl a couple of rows above them, “Over there, idiot!”  

“Oooooooh, someone’s got a crushhhhhh!”  

“Stop it! Could you be any more obvious?” She sunk further into her seat, “Do you know who she is or not?”  

“Nope, but I could find out.”  

Later, Angela learned her name and that she’d just moved to Los Angeles from Boston. Despite Chanse’s insistence that Angela should introduce herself and befriend her, Angela just hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it.  

That was almost four years ago, and even now in their senior year, Angela was no closer to Amanda than when she first laid eyes on her. Even when they’d been in the same AP Psychology class sophomore year, Angela had always been too nervous to say more than a few pleasantries. She didn’t want to come off as overly eager or that she was scaring Amanda away.

Angela admired Amanda from afar, how she greeted a table of friends with hugs and a “How are you?” and how freely she chatted and laughed with the baristas. The coffee shop seemed to brighten with her presence. 

But then Amanda turned and met Angela’s gaze. Shit, she’d been caught staring. Angela tried her best to recover, her face reddening. She turned in the other direction, pretending to search through her tote bag for something. She fumbled with her AirPods and pulled out a book, quickly flipping it open to her bookmarked page.  

“Hey! Angela, right?” Oh no, Angela recognized that voice. She glanced up at the girl speaking to her. Thank goodness for all those acting classes that taught her how to mask her emotions. She hoped her face looked calm and nonchalant, but also friendly and inviting. Oh, and maybe cool and suave as well. Honestly, Angela would take anything over looking overwhelmed at the fact that her long-time crush was now talking to her.  

“That’s me!” Just be cool.  

Amanda sat down in the seat across from her, and that’s when the panic really set in. “I’m Amanda. We had AP Psych with Mr. Hecox together.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” She prayed that her voice wouldn’t embarrassingly start cracking, “His class was definitely an interesting one, especially with the random dark jokes he’d thrown into the middle of his presentations.”  

Amanda chuckled lightly at her comment, and Angela felt her smile widen and her shoulders loosen. But when there was no indication of her leaving, Angela got nervous again.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, but is there a reason you sat down? Not that I mind talking to you. Not at all. It’s just, um, I’m meeting my friend, Arasha, here in a little bit—oh, you might know her from Journalism then. Since you’re the Editor-in-Chief this year, right? Well, so you probably know that she’s writing a piece on the school’s musical, and she asked to interview me. So, I don’t think you can stay here for long. Oh my god, I sound super rude right now, don’t I? Shoot, I swear I—,” 

“Angela, breathe,” Amanda leaned forward and placed a hand over hers, interrupting her rambling. A thousand questions began spinning around in her head. Can she tell I’m freaking out? Is my hand abnormally sweaty? Am I making a fool of myself right now? Is she this touchy with everyone? Why. Is she. Touching. My hand?!

So much for keeping it cool.

“Did Arasha not tell you? I’m actually filling in for her. She messaged our class on Slack this morning asking if someone could take over because she woke up super sick,” Amanda explained.

“Oh shoot, maybe I missed that text from her,” Angela opened her texts with Arasha and briefly scrolled through to check even though she knows for certain that this a certified Arasha prank.

angela: you’re kidding me arash no way you’re sick

Immediately, Angela got a response. She could just picture Arasha’s smug face.

arasha: oh yeahhh i’m totally sneezing up a storm rn

angela: arasha lalani more like arasha lie-lani

arasha: lame but you’ll thank me later now go have fun on your date! but not too much fun ;’)

angela: NOT A DATE i hate you sm

arasha: you’re welcomeee

Amanda raised an eyebrow playfully, “Everything good with Arasha?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Angela fumbles with her phone again, shoving into the pocket of her zip up hoodie without even turning it off.

“Okay, good.”

“Good.” Oh no, did I just make it weird?

Amanda pulls her laptop out of her purse, “Ready to get started then?”

“Let’s do this thing.”

Amanda readied her fingers over the keys and looked over at Angela, ready to take notes like a professional journalist. “So, what can audiences expect from your performance as Grace Chasity in Nerdy Prudes Must Die?”

“Soup,” Angela answers cheekily.

“I’m sorry, soup?”

“Yep, soup! I mean who doesn’t like soup? A classic chicken noodle? Or a butternut squash soup?” Angela gasps animatedly, “What about a garlic tomato bisque? With a grilled cheese?! Come on, how could anyone hate soup?”

Amanda chimes in with a grin, “Broccoli cheddar though? Very divisive, I will say!”

“Ugh! I do secretly love a broccoli cheddar!”

“So do I! But have to ask again, Angela, what does this have to do with Grace Chasity?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. I will say though, Grace’s preferred soup is definitely dirty.”

Amanda laughs, “I feel like you’re purposely trying to confuse me now.”

“Gotta sell tickets somehow, Amanda!” She winks, to which Amanda laughs again. That sound, the resonance of it, settles into Angela’s chest and fills her with a blooming warmth. 

As the interview progressed, Angela’s initial jitters fade away. Each question Amanda asked felt less like an interrogation and more like a conversation she’d have with friends. By the time they reached the final question, she realized she’d very much enjoyed Amanda’s company.

“Alright, I think that’s everything,” Amanda closed her laptop and slipped it back into her bag. “Thank you again for doing this interview with me. I know I’m not who you were expecting, but I’m glad I got to chat about the musical with you anyway.”

Angela shook her head bashfully. “Of course, it was no problem.”

They both gathered the rest of their things and stood up, though Amanda suddenly moved in for a hug. Angela returned the embrace, even though she was still a little shell-shocked from the whole afternoon. Note to self: Amanda’s a hugger.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Amanda pulled away. “I always forget not everyone’s down for physical touch, and then I go and make it uncomfortable by hugging you.”

“No, it was alright. Don’t worry about it,” smiled Angela, reassuring Amanda. Neither of the girls said anything after that, leaving them staring at each other in awkward silence for a little too long. At least, it was awkward for Angela, given the whole “I’m in love with you” part. She really hoped she wasn’t smiling too much like an idiot. Maybe she should stop smiling. No, that would be off-putting as hell to randomly stop smiling. Maybe she should say somethi—

Amanda cleared her throat, “It was nice talking to you. I hope to see you around sometime.” Phew.

She waved to the retreating Amanda, “Yeah, I’ll see you around.” But there was still a voice inside her that urged her to say something more. This is your chance, Angela!

“Wait!” Angela called out, causing Amanda to turn back around. “You should, um, get my number. You know, just in case you have any more questions while you write the article.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Amanda handed Angela her phone with an amused expression. Angela carefully entered her information on the new contact page and passed it back to Amanda before saying a last goodbye and letting Amanda walk out.

Angela blinked a couple of times, hoping to snap back into the present. It didn’t help—she was too dazed from the whole interaction. Amanda Lehan-Canto had just talked to her. Holy. Shit.

After collecting herself a little more, she hopped in her car and drove home. Every moment of their conversation replayed in Angela’s mind: the answers she had given, the stupid jokes she had cracked, the way Amanda had sounded when she laughed. She pinched her arm over and over again to prove to herself that this all really happened.

As she pulled into the driveway, her phone lit up with a notification from her group chat with Chanse and Arasha—it was unfortunately named “ANGELAAAAAAA!” after the way her friends often called her name in disappointment.

arasha: your location says you’re home angela spill how did it go

angela: wtf are you stalking me

arasha: that’s beside the point

chanse: explainnnn pleaseee

arasha:  i set ang up on a date with amanda lehan cantooooooooo

chanse: A DATE?!

angela: NOT! A! DATE!!! it was an interview that arasha FLAKED ON

arasha: semantics

chanse: HOW DID IT GO

angela: it was chill she asked me about nerdy prudes and i gave her my number in case she had follow up questions

chanse: you gave her your number???? damn ang is finally make some moves took you long enough

arasha: YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME MAN she would still be sitting on her ass pining away if it weren’t for me

angela: jeez it was just a casual thing calm yourselves

chanse: why don’t you text her and say you forgot to mention something earlier just to get the convo rolling

angela: um bitch i’m tryna play it cool here don’t wanna seem too eager plus i just realized i didn’t get her number…

chanse: angelaaaaaaaaaaaaaa dude you fumbled that big time

arasha: i put in so much work to make that happen and you fucked it wasted effort

chanse: you idiot i cannot believe you

arasha: you got no game fr

angela: Y’ALL I WAS PANICKING CAN YOU BE A LITTLE MORE GENTLE

chanse: no you don’t get a pass for this arash do you have her number

arasha: nah we text on slack also it would be hella strange if ang had her number without asking directly

chanse: ugh true i guess

At this point, she had made it up the stairs and into her bedroom. Frustrated with her friends, Angela tossed her phone onto her bed before promptly flopping down and burying her face into the pillows. And then, she screamed. So loud and so long that she barely heard the “ding” of a new notification.

Angela rolled over and felt around for her phone, already groaning at what she expected to be another annoying message from her annoying friends.

unknown number: hey this is amanda

Her eyes widened.

unknown number: i realized way too late that i never gave you my number so i thought i’d shoot you a text so you could saved it too :)

Angela threw her phone again and went back to screaming.

a lil author's note: i started this amangela high school au a longggg time ago, practically when this blog started because it's one of my favorite tropes to mull around in my mind. funnily enough, this first chapter was written for the smosh girlies week back in feb, but i deleted the whole thing because i hated what i wrote, so the first draft has been lost to time. then, i wrote it again and abandoned it again. it wasn't until my wonderful friend @babychosen asked me about it recently that i decided to revisit it and finally finish it for all y'all to enjoy! this is for @babychosen, @unknownteapot, @poppyfamily, and @shesmore-shoebill. thanks guys for always yelling about amangela with me <3

[javaghoul]

Finding Out Their Kid is Being Bullied

Akira

Akira had her fair share of 'attempts' at being bullied throughout her life, so has a decent awareness of what is going on.

Note how I said 'attempts': Akiras' sense of self has always been good (you can't deny Mado didn't do a good parenting job here), making her nearly impossible to bully. It's no fun to pick on someone who simply does not care. So why is this an issue? Well, Akira doesn't quite get why her child is so upset by it. She doesn't grasp why her kid, who is evidently intellectually and emotionally superior to the pond-life giving them grief is so upset. Why can't they just ignore it?

When she realises it isn't petty bickering, she speaks to the teachers. She doesn't make an appointment, she'll put them on the spot, in front of the other parents. Will name the culprit -loudly- too.

If this doesn't resolve it, she'll have no problems in speaking directly to the parents, possibly reminding them what she does for a living and subtly implying she can make things very difficult for them if they don't control their kid.

Invests in building her child's self-esteem.

Furuta

Whoever decides his kid is a target, is a candidate for the Darwin award.

Bad, bad mistake to pick on his kid.

Hide

Likely knows all the parents on a friendly basis, so when his child breaks down and tells him they've been getting bullied, Hide is the type to have a chat with the kids' parent rather than go to the school.

Whilst he's mulling over what to say, he definitely signs his kid up for some kind of martial arts, maybe finds a movie based around bullying which has a happy ending...yes he's one of them.

He's definitely the type of parent that wants a peaceful, civil, resolution. He really doesn't want to involve the school if he doesn't have to, but depending on how the other parent responds, he will in order to sort things out.

Touka

Her kid doesn't come to her to talk about what's been going on at school; Touka starts noticing changes in behaviour, then interrogates it out of them.

Her kid is reluctant to admit it at first for no reason other than Touka being kinda... reactive.

Toukas' livid. She also gives the whole "You gotta hit them, and hit them HARD" speech, that doesn't tend to work. If your kid hasn't already knocked them out, you telling them to isn't going to make a difference.

Isn't afraid to demand a meeting with the teacher AND the other parent. She wants this stopped, and stopped now.

If conversation isn't working, Touka is not above threatening physical harm on the other parent. And acting on it.

"Everytime you hurt my kid, I'm gonna beat the shit out of your mom."

Unorthodox, but it works.

Naki

If they're anything like Naki, his kids don't notice people are being deliberately mean.

For once, I'm not even trying to make a haha Nakis' dumb joke like I usually do, I genuinely believe his progeny wont realise or even care.

Itori

Itori finds out what the bully looks like, and the next time she's collecting her kid from the playground 'accidentally' trips them. When she's helping them up, she whispers, "You're a nasty little shit aren't you? If you touch my kid again, I'm going to break every one of your fingers ☺️".

Judging by the grip on the kids arm, she isn't playing.

Yomo

Yomo, in general, takes Akiras 'ignore em' approach, whilst making sure his kid knows they're loved and that he wouldn't let anyone hurt them. However, there are some things that can't, and shouldn't be ignored.

If teenagers are responsible for the bullying, I think he'd approach them directly; he won't hesitate in intimidating them and acting in a less than savoury manner... He isn't going to waste words on filth-rags that are tormenting his child.

Should that fail to work, he will step outside his comfort zone and go to the parents and/or school. It's surprising how eloquent he can be when he is extremely pissed off.

[eccentrickleptomaniac]

pls if you have the time, can you share your Germany headcanons?

Germany himself isn't really Germany- he's a partial-mergecon fusion of East and West Germany. "Essen what does that mean" basically their consciousnesses aren't exactly fused completely but they can't exactly unfuse either lol. The fusion lore is something for another day.

To like, everyone, he's known as a very professional person. He almost never drops the front, acting briefly and quickly with everyone from acquaintances to family. Ironically, none of his direct family is currently alive. While yes, he is, well, friendly, it's all very tolling and when he does finally let his guard down it's almost always because he's experiencing burnout, in which he won't leave his house for days at a time. Still, it doesn't deter him from being the hardest worker in the EU.

While his technical father is.. uh.. yknow who, he doesn't really consider him his parent. Due to the odd circumstances of his creation, (long story short he, along with his father, are parasites. they killed their hosts upon exiting their bodies. tr's was weimar, eg and wgs was allied occupied germany. yes i believe they're just twins and were not born as one. "essen how is tr their father if he died before they were-" tarantula hawk wasp situation.) he never actually met his father. Because of this, all people he considers parents were adopted. Those being, from EG's side, Poland and maybe the USSR, while on WG's side it was France and the UK. Nowadays, due to him being an adult at this point, he considers them more friends as opposed to adoptive parents.

I consider the Cold War more of a time where EG and WG were growing up as opposed to being full-grown adults. The two had basically no idea what was going on because of it, and were mostly just fed information by their parents that they, well, believed. I believe that until WG's attempts at repairing their relations, both sides of the wall had a mutual intense hatred for the other. There was also nothing stopping them from actually talking at any point: no physical barrier put in or any strict rules from the parents. Sure, literally neither side liked them talking to eachother: in the beginning France and especially the UK hated the idea of them fusing and the USSR, well, uh, was the USSR. But neither side was actually stopping them from talking to eachother.

I'll talk about them seperately now, starting with EG because I like her more.

EG was very, very quiet growing up. She was known among the Warsaw Pact for her ability to observe and find small details, as well as her bluntness. She would not speak up during dinner arguments unless she had something important to say. Along with this, she was a very dedicated person. Once she had her mind on something, it was very hard to get her to stop. She especially loved machinery and computers. It wasn't uncommon to see her desk cluttered with random metal parts from a contraption she'd been building earlier. She was also very athletic, but that goes for like, the entire German bloodline. However, unlike most of her ancestors, she was also a very nonviolent person. Like, extremely nonviolent. Like, if she was being physically assaulted she would not fight back nonviolent. It's led to.. a lot of things, probably the most prominent being her half blinded eye caused by shrapnel during the East Berlin riots of '53. Albiet, that wasn't really any countries fault.. A better example would be the scar right above that eye. Yeah, that one was caused by her (adopted) father. Hooray for horrible parenting! Also random trivia I suppose; She and her brother are musicians. She does work primarily that of with synthesizers and electronic instruments. Think stuff of Machine Girl's soundtrack for Neon White. She's a fan of hardcore genres. If she was still around on her own when Prodigy became popular she would've loved that shit.

WG was much more outgoing than his sister and was always pretty much always the one initiating the conversations. It wasn't that EG didn't like talking to him, it was more she just feared he didn't like her. Which wasn't the case, usually, I think. Anyways, while being more outgoing than EG, he was also very much more opinionated on things. It was very hard to get him to change his opinion on someone if he didn't want to. He was also the only one of the two who got wing privileges and it made him into a cocky bastard. Out of everything WG liked to (LIGHTHEARTEDLY) tease EG for her not being able to fly was probably the biggest subject of his poking. It also made him into an overconfident bastard who faceplanted a few too many times into the pavement for him to be all alright. While his homelife was better than EG's, it still wasn't.. great. His adopted parents often threw jabs at him about his heritage. Like out of all the audios I've heard that I've been like, "Wow, this is so West Germany!", the biggest was literally the "What would Leonard Bernstein do?" bit from a John Mulaney special. Like, yeah thats just him with his parents. Anyways, he, like his sister, is also a musician! Albiet of a very different genre than her, he does stuff more akin to "real-world rock" as he calls it, he plays bass guitar pretty damn well and is pretty decent at drumming.

Ironically, the two had a lot of mutual friends growing up. Specifically Yugoslavia's kids. He was a very lax father figure, obviously he cared about his children but due to his absolute neutrality he almost never reprimanded his kids for any interactions with any country ever. Croatia and Slovenia specifically were friends with both of them. They're still friends today, actually. The two are pretty much some of the only people he lets his guard down around due to them being friends basically since birth.

Some misc stuff: Germany the Fusion™️ is actually Aroace. EG was a lesbian and WG was gay and due to the fact that they're pretty much constantly co-conscious now that the two have been fused they'd feel really weird actually dating someone. Now that he's fused he still does music, I believe mostly industrial synthpop but he likes to experiment with other genres too. On bad days he goes home and makes harsh noise. And I mean harsh. #Coping! He's pretty good friends with Japan and Italy. I like to think they call their groupchat "The Vertex Powers" as a direct jab at their parents. Speaking of.... all three are actually musicians. They work together sometimes. With Italy he tends to make more Aphex Twin/Mayhem + Darius type stuff while with Japan he makes stuff that sounds like Renard. If ur wondering what Japan and Italy make together, it's probably something that sounds like Darius + Rotteen or Infected Mushroom. So psytrance!

I hope this suffices, sorry for the wait!

edit 08/08/23: his """"government assigned"""" username is drawnExperimentation. eg's was dresdenDeceptacon.

[zombies-aliens]

Bruhh. Been a good day so far but right now for the last 30 min I've been looking for my helper with case running and whole time she's doing idek what in the breakroom on the computer. I'm on my lunch right now at least. I don't even wanna get all upset but I'm not happy with how she left me out to dry without telling me. Even if she's doing work related stuff I would have liked to know because I wasn't told anything. She screwed me again like wth lol. That shits crazy man. I'm debating on telling her if she could let me know next time just so I know, I know im not a part of management but even when management is here they let me know when they're pulling a coworker so I know I have to run cases on my own. And I have no issue with that. Im not really that upset because I took a peek at the screen and it didn't look like she was doing some bs, so at least it was work stuff I'm assuming. I don't think it's worth it. At least I'm on my lunch and hopefully I'll be in a new department in the store soon. And it pays more which is nice :) good vibes I don't wanna let it get to me. I feel like this is a personal growth moment like this is a maturity test. So I'm gonna say good night if I see her, and kinda communicate to her that it's all good. I'm sure she doesn't give a shit to care anyway but personal growth is personal she doesn't have to know 🤷‍♂️ she's not the only coworker in the store, my money is intact, I'm still getting off when I'm suppose to clock out, im fine. I'm being tested right now and I need to pass. OMG THO BRUHHHH BUT I CANT TELL YOU HOW NICE IT WOULD BE TO SEE KARMA DO ITS BUSINESS TO HER IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING EYES. I HOPE KARMA BRINGS HER TO HER KNEES AND UGLY CRIES WITH SNOT GETTING CAUGHT IN HER MOUTH HAHA. Okay see that's the immature me speaking.. lemme chill. I had to say it tho bruh 😂 don't act like you don't wanna see karma do its thing to some people who deserve it man.. but like I said this is dumb and I'm going to try to say good night IF I see her on the way out ain't no way ima go find her and be all howdy do with her nah ain't no way bruh but if I do see her I might try to catch up to her and put a little effort to get to her. Unless she's talking to in a friend group. I usually leave people alone and keep myself out of that since I know usually those people are my acquaintances but we don't call each other friends and talk like we're friends, we just talk friendly you know. And it's cool could be better could upgrade to friend status but I'm cool if not. My coworkers are actually cool. Or you know what if she's in a friend group I'll say bye to the whole group. YES that's a good idea. Yes yes yes see ima pass this test 👌 I have to grow.. it may not mean nothing to yall but it does to me.

[iwadori]

Haikyu boys when they make you insecure PT 1 (Kenma,Kuroo)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6.

Word Count:3k 

genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You and Kenma have been in a long distance relationship for a while.

Both of you stream, Kenma doing it seriously for his job and you just playing it for fun,

Sometimes you stream together of course but because of your difference in audiences and games you don’t do it all the time

“Bye guys! Hope you enjoyed todays stream” You wave off to the camera and shut off your PC taking a few sips of water.

Kenma: Hey.. nice stream today Y/N are you going to watch mine?

Y/N: Of course I will 

Kenma: Ok talk to you later

Y/N: okayy <3

Kenma is what inspired you to stream, he also taught you all the ins and outs of streaming making sure you were set and ready. Your gaming style was very relaxed and friendly as you obviously weren’t streaming as a career just for fun and to make friends with your online viewers. The games you played were usually: minecraft, COD, Sims 4, Roblox, Animal crossing and *Insert your favourite game here* the way I literally named all the games I play 

You wait for Kenmas stream to start, kind of excited as you’ve always loved seeing your boyfriend in his ‘element’ when it comes to playing to games. As your boyfriends stream starts you see he’s already chosen what game he is playing today which is to your surprise Call of duty, since that was the game you were playing earlier.

As he gets into the stream you are entertained, as always since Kenma was being his usual self laughing at his own deadpan jokes and interacting with his viewers. He is currently waiting for his capture the flag game to start so as he waits he decides to read some comments in the chat.

You’re used to the usual ‘Kenma where is Y/N I miss your usual streams together’ or ‘kenma please RAIL me’ which always makes you laugh. You were also used to the common hate comments Kenma and You both got on your streams but you were definitely not ready for this..

@ Ihatewomanandiamadick : Hey Kenma did you see your girls stream today she is so dog shit at COD lmaoooo jhdfkjdrhdrr

“Well hello ihatewomenandiamadick” started Kenma “but yes I did see Y/N stream and obviously she is not the best at games and I would definitely NOT ask her to team with me for any serious gaming competitions ... but she’s fun to watch I guess” as he finished speaking about you his game loaded up so he focused his attention on that the words he just spoke going to the back of his mind as they end up at the forefront of yours.

You obviously knew you were no match for Kenma’s gaming expertise but you didn’t expect him to publicly agree with a hate comment let alone add more of his imput on you. Did he really think that about you? ‘She’s fun to watch I guess’ did he not even enjoy your streams that much?

You wanted to distract yourself, and you definitely couldn’t do that watching him so you close off of his stream and get in your bed deciding to watch your favourite show. 

Waking up at 6pm after your sad nap, you see that Kenma has left some messages to you,

Kenma: hey did you watch my stream?

Kenma: do you want to facetime later and play some minecraft..?

Kenma: y/n r u ok??

Y/N: oh hey cnt play minecraft w you rn not really in the mood..

Kenma: oh ok..

Time passed since then a month to be exact and you basically dropped off of the face of the earth, you weren’t in the mood to do anything let alone game and stream, which was a constant reminder of your boyfriend (something you didn’t want at the time.) 

You felt embarrassed over all the things he said about you and all the things you now think he thinks about you and the way you play. Maybe he thinks even worse things about you, beyond just how you game? What if he doesn’t even genuinely like you...or he has someone else...it does make sense, you do both live miles and miles away from eachother AND he’s a big streamer you see the amount of girls in his comments.

You shake your head to erase your protruding thoughts coming in your mind, but it doesn’t really help. You and Kenma haven’t spoken much over this month he tried to constantly reach out to you at first but you assume he got bored over your constant, repetitive dry texts. So you were almost content with you and Kenma not even being in a relationship anymore.

However on Kenma’s side, he was beyond worried about you. Since you haven’t been streaming or barely responded to his texts he thought something happened to you, but he didn’t want to be seen as ‘overstepping boundaries’ if there was nothing wrong at all with you and you simply were just ‘not in the mood.’ 

So here he is, in Kuroo’s apartment trying to get him to help him out on finding out what is wrong with you.

“So kenma can you remember what happened the day when Y/N went ‘ghost’“ asked Kuroo in a mock detective voice

“Y/N didn’t go ‘ghost’ Kuro, and take this seriously” said Kenma “I’m worried bout her”

“Okay fine, but for real what’s the last thing you remember before she started acting all weird.” 

“Umm I think it was around a month ago I did my saturday stream and I think she was on it but she didn’t leave her usual nice comments throughout”

“Ohh that was the stream when you sai-” Kuroo said before pausing his words as the memory of what Kenma said about you on his stream came in his mind, as even Kuroo thought it was a tad bit harsh for Kenma to say all those things “I think I know why Y/N has been so distant kiddo”

“What why?” Asked Kenma

Kuroo pulls out his phone and brings up the clip off what Kenma said and Kenma’s face cringes ‘did he really say all those things about you’ he thinks. 

“Shit.. I didn’t know I said all of that” he said quietly “how do I make it up to her?”

“There’s only one thing you can really do Kenma” said kuroo

You are woken up out of your sleep by a knock on the door. Getting out your bed like a zombie, you trudge to your front door only surprised by what you see. There in his 5′6 glory stood your ‘boyfriend’ Kenma with a controller and a kitten teddy in his hand. You were very tempted to shut the door in his face and get back to your dreamless sleep but you waited on him to speak.

“Hi Y/N” he said quietly “wanna play some minecraft...?”

“Why so you can ridicule me on how shit I am?” You ask bitterly ready to shut the door on him

“No! No not all” he said stopping you from shutting the door entering your place “Y/N i’m really sorry on what I said, I wasn’t thinking AT ALL... I love watching your streams and I think you’re great at playing games...I was just being a dick,”

You take a deep breath before tears pool in your eyes “what you said really hurt me kenma..” you say “ I know people say shitty things on the internet all the time... it’s the internet. But I wasn’t expecting you to agree with the hater and say even more shitty things on top of that.. I don’t think I want to even stream anymore”

Upon hearing that, Kenma’s mouth parts open with shock ‘you dont want to stream anymore’ were his comments that bad? Now he feel even worse as he should and is now more determined to make things right. 

He impulsively drags your arm into your game room, catching your surprise ‘what is he up too?’ you think. He stops for a second seeing your usual pristine gaming set up, collected up with dust. 

“What are you do-” you start 

“Just wait!” He says, as he rushes away turning on all your stuff and logging onto his twitch account as he sees the views go up he starts to speak

 “Hi guys, its me kodzuken and today I’m here on stream with my beautiful girlfriend and today I want to say..” he turns to you “Y/N im so sorry for the horrible things I said to you that day... I was just being a dick and I’m sorry I really am.”

You look at the chat and you see some confusion and some people recalling his words from last month. “It’s fine Kenma, I forgive you” you say giving him a hug”

“Okay Y/N, so what do you say... wanna beat my ass at bed wars?” He says with a smirk 

“When have I ever loss?” you return his smirk

Of course you did beat his ass as bed wars for rounds on rounds never losing proving yourself to actually be a good gamer girl. You enjoyed your time with Kenma, forgetting what he said before about you and moving on. 

Eventually, you guys moved in together and streamed together all the time and yes you still do play for fun but you’ve gotten way better at COD (some may say better then Kenma) but who is better didn’t matter to any of you, as long as you got to play together that’s all you both cared about.

Kuroo:

Kuroo and you have been together since you were in your first year of high school 

You met as friends first when you got him to tutor you in chemistry ( a subject you still aren’t that good at.)

Now you have your upcoming entrance exams for university in a month so your school has you doing mock exams in preparation for them.

20%

You look down at your chemistry paper that your teacher just handed you. 20%. You’re surprised, very surprised since out of all your subjects (that you go 90+% on) you studied on the chemistry test the hardest ensuring Testurou, that you didn’t need his help at all. But I guess it turns out, you did.

This failing mock grade put a blunder on your day, you didn’t interact with anyone and didn’t want to see your boyfriend so you skipped your usual routine of meeting him on the rooftop and went to the library instead ‘might aswell start early on your studying’ you thought.

As you were going over your chemistry topics, you hear an ‘ahem’ next to you and you turn your head only to find your boyfriend and his friends next to you. Kuroo with his usual goofy smile on his face. 

“Hey kitten where were you at lunch?” he asked 

“Needed to go to the library, Chemistry is kicking my ass” you mumbled 

“Oya” he said as he noticed your chemistry test laying under your textbook “20%, well damn Y/N I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were that stupid” he laughed doing his stupid usual hyena-like laugh.

Ouch well that hurt. You slightly flinched at his words, “Really your name, you didn’t know the molecular formula for ethanol, that’s first year work” he said continuing to laugh “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the first things I tutored you on when we first met” 

His overbearing laughter was not good for you, you were already having a bad day and yes you do know your not that good at chemistry but you didn’t need your chemistry-enthusiast boyfriend to make fun of you for failing. Kenma and Yaku stood there awkwardly obviously aware of how bad Kuroo is making you feel but they didn’t really know how to stop his friend in the moment.Whilst he’s still dying of laughter you decide to pack up your stuff and leave the library.

You managed to get your Chemistry tutor to let you retake your mock paper in a week so that means, extra hard studying with no distractions you definitely can’t fail again. Since studying on your own was definitely not a good option, and you couldn’t go to Kuroo (especially after he ridiculed you) you decided to ask the second smartest person you know to tutor you.

Y/N: Hey Yaku! Can I ask you a favour?

Yaku: Hi Y/N what do you need??

Y/N: I have my chemistry retake next week, and as you know from your loud-loud friend I failed my recent test so can you tutor me?? 

Y/N: Pleaseeee

Yaku: Ok Y/N why can’t you ask Kuroo you know that he’d be more than happy to help

Y/N: Yakuu pleasee just help me out 

So there you was, nearly a week done with your study sessions with Yaku and you’re feeling way more confident than before. 

“Y/N what is the functional group of a Carboxylic Acid” Yaku asked

“umm... COO?” 

“Great! that’s correct Y/N” he praises i dont actually know if it’s correct or not

You then hear a knock at Yaku’s front door and hear his mum let the person in, Kuroo then enters Yaku’s bedroom with shock plastered on his face surprised to see you here.

“Y/N...hey?” he says confused “what are you doing here?”

“Oh Mori-chan is just helping me with chemistry for my retake tommorow” you say nochalantly internally smiling at the twinge in Kuroo’s face at the purposeful use of Yaku’s first name.

“So why didn’t you ask me to help you know I’m a chemistry whiz” he asks

“Maybe I’m too stupid to be taught under your tutelage” you mumble “since I seem to forget whatever you teach me, even when it’s 3 years ago... but ok”

“Y/N I-” he starts 

“Oh save it Kuroo, I have studying to do” you say cutting him off

“But I-” he tries

“So Mori-chan COOH is the function group of ethyl ethonate right?” you ask ignoring your boyfriend who is now at a lost for words

“ummm yeah it is” says yaku who is clearly feeling heavily awkward at the tension in his bedroom.

Kuroo leaves and you and yaku finish off the studying for the night, you did feel a little bad for being a bit mean to Kuroo but it’s karma for him being a dick to you. 

You wake up the next day ready for your exam which was first thing in the morning, before you hand in your phone you see a message from Kuroo,

Kuroo: I know you’re still mad at me, but I think you’re going to do so well on this test. You’re not stupid at all, you’re really smart and I love you < 3 

Kuroo: Good luck Y/N

You don’t respond to the message but smile at the sincerity of it and thankful for the boost of confidence it gave you before you start your exam.

Finishing the exam with a smile, you were confident you did well as everything you and Yaku went over was on the paper and you’re almost certain you atleast got more than 75%. You have to wait an hour before your teacher can give you your results, so in the meantime you might aswell reconcile with Kuroo.

When you exit the classroom, standing there was Kuroo who seemed to have been waiting for you for the whole duration of the exam.

“So how was it?” Kuroo asked, apprenhensive as he assumed you would just ignore him like you did at Yaku’s house.

“It was fine, I think it went alright..” you say

“Kuroo”

“Y/N”

You say simultaneously, he pauses for a second to let you speak “I’m sorry I was being so stand offish when we were at Yaku’s I just wanted you to see I could do it on my own, and when you called me stupid I really took that to heart since you and I both know that Chemistry wasn’t ever my best subject” 

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and since it was only a practice test I didn’t think you’d take it to heart but I am sorry I know you aren’t stupid.”

Before you got to say anything else, your Chemistry teacher exited the room with your chemistry paper in hand. Kuroo grabbed your hand anticipating your nerves and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Miss L/N” said your teacher “Well done on your chemistry test” he turned your test around to sure a perfect 100%. Both you and Kuroo gasped, you were elated to say the least you wanted to jump up and down in excitement but a PERFECT 100%.

“I’d also like to add that you have now got the top chemistry score in the school beating the previous title holder Kuroo Testurou” said your teacher, this made Kuroo open his mouth even wider in surprise nearly making you giggle at his response. 

Your teacher took his leave, leaving you and Kuroo in the hallway “ I guess i’m the chemistry whizz now “ you say wiggling your eyebrows just as Kuroo did to you before at Yaku’s this made him chuckle as he came to put his arm around you.

“Y/N don’t get ahead of yourself now, you may have won this battle but I will win the war” he said smiling

In the final exam, you continue your winning streak also getting a near 100% and still beating Kuroo which didn’t matter to either of you, now you’re just like him cracking chemistry puns and jokes all the time which none of your friends appreciated but atleast Kuroo found them SODIUM funny.

AN: Please kill me for the last line of Kuroos, I didn’t really like Kuroo’s since it was a bit self indulgent with my hate for chemistry but what do you guys think?

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

[jaeminscoffee]

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n." 

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine." 

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 

Ironic, huh? 

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 

"Answer me." 

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?" 

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 

"Say it, Y/n." 

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

[storiesforallfandoms]

can’t buy me ~ jimmy smith jr.;8 mile

word count: 1577

request?: yes!

@girl-toxxic "reader and Jimmy are in a relationship not long ago but Jimmy was always in love and they both live in the same place, ok but let's say that reader meets a new friend at work (she is a waitress or can be a babysitter for a rich girl) and this new friend has a lot of money and is very interested in reader and the reader get along well and this makes Jimmy insecure, since reader's friend gives him small gifts and helps him a lot. But you can add something that is more interesting as the boy confesses his feelings to the reader and she rejects him since Jimmy is her great love and he tells her how can she go out with that poor devil ... or something else interesting what occurs to you. And that this ends in a lot of love and smut, bah if you feel comfortable🤗💕💕"

description: in which her new friend keeps trying to make advances through gifts, but her heart belongs to one man

pairing: jimmy smith jr. x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

I walked through the door and made a beeline for the kitchen to throw away yet another gift from my not so secret admirer. The last thing I needed was for Jimmy to see what Mark had give me and to get upset about it.

I worked as a waitress at a bar and grill down the road from mine and Jimmy’s house. The hours were only okay, but the tips more than made up for it, especially after our newest regular, Mark, started dining there and specifically asked to have me as his server whenever he was in.

Mark was in his late 30s, handsome, worked a good job that paid good money. He came in one night after he had a particularly hard shift. He sat at the bar, and it was the night I was working it, so I talked him through his rough day. Next thing I knew, he was coming back and asking for me again. We became friendly, but it took me a little too long to realize he wanted to be more than friends.

I turned the corner and yelped as I realized I wasn’t alone. Jimmy was leaning against the counter, almost like he was waiting for me.

“Hey babe,” I said. “I thought you were at the Shelter with Future tonight.”

His eyes flickered to the gift bag in my hand. “He wanted me to come home. We haven’t had a night together in months.”

“Doesn’t help that we both work late night jobs,” I tried to joke. The bag felt heavy in my hand as Jimmy kept looking at it.

“That rick prick buy you more useless shit?” he asked.

“Jimmy,” I sighed.

“Sorry, I forgot it was okay for some rich jackass to buy my girlfriend expensive gifts.”

He wouldn’t meet my eye. He kept glancing around the kitchen, every so often looking down at the bag in my hand. I dropped everything I was holding onto the floor, including that stupid gift, and raced over to hug him.

“Hey,” I said, softly, resting my head on his chest. “Hey, you know there’s nothing to this. It’s just a guy who doesn’t understand I’m not interested.”

“It’s a guy who has money.”

I lighted my head to look at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Nothing, never mind.”

I pulled away from him. “No, tell me.” When he didn’t speak, I took his chin in my hand and forced him to look at me. “Jimmy, do you think I’d leave you for someone who makes more money?”

“He’d be able to give you what you deserve,” he responded. “A house, a car, expensive gifts - ”

“We have a house,” I cut him off. “You have a car, and I don’t want expensive gifts. I don’t want materialistic things, I want happiness and love, and that’s what I get with you. You really have nothing to worry about in regards to Mark. You’re the one I’ll always want.”

Jimmy sighed and pulled me close. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll give you that reassurance any day.”

I leaned up to kiss him. He relaxed into the kiss and I leaned into him more.

When he pulled away, Jimmy turned to look at the forgotten present on the floor. “What did that asshole get you this time anyways?”

I picked up the bag and pulled out the box that was inside. Jimmy opened the box to reveal the gold necklace Mark had given me. The pendant was gold to match, and it was my initial.

“I was gonna chuck it when I got home,” I told him. It’s way too flashy for me, it wouldn’t match anything I own.”

“Don’t throw it out. This is, like, real gold. We can sell it for a good chunk of money.”

I smiled. “I like the way you think, Rabbit.”

~~~~~~

The next day, Jimmy had the night off from the Shelter so he drove me to work. He followed me into the bar and grill with the intentions of sitting at the bar for an hour or two before going home. One of my co-workers spotted us as we walked in and gave me a panicked look. I immediately knew what she was trying to tell me.

I saw Mark sat at the bar before he saw me. I was about to turn to Jimmy to warn him when Mark spotted me and rose from his seat. He had a wide smile on his face, until he saw Jimmy behind me.

“Two nights in a row, Mark?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Those wings and nachos are gonna start getting to you.”

“I went to the gym this morning, so it cancels out,” he responded. “Who’s this with you?”

“This is my boyfriend, Jimmy. I told you about him, remember?”

“Oh yeah, the...rapper,” Mark said. I didn’t miss the way he sneered the word “rapper”, and Jimmy didn’t either.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mark shrugged. “Nothing. Just stating a fact that (Y/N) told me. Although, rapping at that rundown warehouse probably doesn’t pay as much as a real job would.”

Jimmy stepped towards Mark, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Hey, he’s not worth it. Just go home. Thank you for the ride.”

Jimmy glared at Mark before turning to walk away. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the situation seemed to defuse easily.

And then Matt spoke again, “Yeah, go back to the trailer park, white trash.”

Jimmy snapped and charged at Mark before I could stop him. He knocked Mark to the ground and reared up to hit him. I quickly grabbed his arm and pulled as hard as I could until Jimmy was off of Mark.

“Get out before security gets called,” I told him.

He got to his feet and walked out the door before anything else could happen. Mark was getting to his feet and adjusting his clothes. I was trying to calm myself down as I regarded him.

“Please leave, Mark.”

“Seriously? Your trailer trash boyfriend attacked me, but you’re kicking me out?”

“You provoked him.”

“I wasn’t saying anything he hasn’t heard before, or anything that wasn’t true.”

“Fuck off!” I snapped, my anger finally bubbling over. “You are fucking insufferable! I’ve told you on multiple occasions that I have a boyfriend, that I’m not interested. Most people would take the fucking hint and move on. The way you’ve been acting, especially tonight, is way out of line. I want you to get the fuck out and if I ever see you here again I will contact the authorities and have you charged for harassment.”

Mark blinked, realized I was being serious, and finally left. He muttered some less than ideal names towards me as he walked out the door. I sighed and buried my head in my hands. I was grateful that there wasn’t many customers in the area as all of this went down.

“Hey.” I looked up at my co-worker, who was now in front of me. “Go check on your man.”

I thanked her and quickly walked out the door. I didn’t expect him to still be outside, so I was surprised to see him stood by his car, almost like he was waiting for me to come out.

“Did I get you in trouble?”

I gave him a small smile and shook my head. “No. If anything, you did me a favor. When it became evident that Mark wasn’t taking no for an answer, all of us wanted to ban him from the place entirely, but we weren’t allowed unless he really caused trouble. I think it’s safe to say starting a fight is more than probable cause to make sure he never comes back.”

Jimmy was nodding and rubbing the back of his head. “I probably could’ve handled that better though.”

“I didn’t expect you to handle it any other way,” I said. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Are you okay?”

Jimmy chuckled slightly. “Cocksucker didn’t even try to hit me. Did you see his face when I tackled him? He looked like he shit himself.”

I giggled. “Yeah, he’s definitely not a fighter. He’s too much like a high school mean girl for someone who works an office job and makes as much money as he does.”

Jimmy wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him, resting his chin on top of my head. “I’m glad you stopped me. I wouldn’t beat the shit out of him if you didn’t.”

“I would’ve liked to see that.”

We both stood in silence for a while. I buried my nose in Jimmy’s sweater, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. It made a warm feeling swell inside of me, like a safe feeling. It reminded me of how I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than in Jimmy’s arms, or with anyone else besides Jimmy. No amounts of money, or people like Mark could ever change my mind about that.

“I should actually go to work,” I said, reluctantly untangling myself from Jimmy’s arms. “I’ll see you when I get off?”

“Of course, I’ll come pick you up.”

I smiled and kissed his cheek. I started back towards the restaurant, but paused to turn back to Jimmy. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[s-brant]

Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

Summary: Hurricane Agatha approaches Kildare Island during the aftermath of the eventful Fourth of July party. JJ and Y/N are determined to continue avoiding each other after what happened at the party, but John B has other plans for them.

Warnings: Smut, strong language, angst, implied physical abuse, depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, and sickeningly sweet fluff.

Word Count: 24k

A/N: Here we goooo! To celebrate the trailer dropping today, here’s part two to Devils Roll The Dice. If you haven’t read the first part, I suggest you read it and come back so this makes sense. This one has all the drama and spice, so buckle up! Thank you for the love and support on the first part. Let me know if you enjoyed this and have fun, cause I had a blast writing it.

Hurricane Agatha.

It was the first thing she heard about as soon as she woke up yesterday to the sound of her phone blaring with an obnoxious tone that reminds her of waking up too early in the morning for work or school.

Her sleepy eyes couldn't make out who was calling, so she pressed the button to answer and lifted the phone to hear her mom's voice squawking through the speaker at her about the hurricane projected to hit the island in the middle of the night tonight.

The problem is, her parents are out of town this week, leaving her all alone to prep the house and endure the storm alone. And for someone who flinches whenever she thinks she hears the sound of thunder in the sky, that is the worst it can get.

It's a fear her friends are conscious of. One time when they were out on the HMS Pogue, a quick summer storm started to drift overhead and it took all of her self control to not fall into a blind panic when thunder began to rumble above. John B was already steering them back in the direction of the Chateau but she knew it would do nothing to calm her nerves until she was back inside of the house.

The anxiety was starting to become too overwhelming when JJ sat down beside her and threw his arm over her shoulder. It was their first month of knowing one another, so the casual friendly gesture made her jump at first and turn her head to look at him, but he acted like everything was normal.

The next person to notice was John B. With JJ currently out of commission, the only person she thought to call to help her prep the house for the incoming storm was him. Since they never got hurricanes up where she used to live her whole life, she needed someone who's been through a couple to help her while her parents weren't home.

That's how she ended up here. Sweating bullets in the front yard of her house as she unloads the contents of the van with John B was not how she envisioned her Saturday night to go, but she's glad she has someone who's willing to help.

In the past five months of being with the Pogues, she's learned that it's lovely to have friends. She never used to have any before she moved, so in situations like this or when she got so drunk at the party, she never would've had anyone to be there for her. It's quiet moments of kindness and companionship like this that make her realize how much better life has been on the other side of uprooting everything to move here—self-inflicted boy drama and all.

The sandbag on her shoulder sends a growing ache through her back muscles with every step she takes to follow him up the length of unpaved dirt path up to her front door. As usual, he makes it look way easier than it is, and it almost makes her want to laugh at how different they are.

Most of her new friends are effortless, naturally picking up anything they decide to try at while she is inept by comparison. It's part of what attracted her to JJ in the first place. He may have his insecurities the same way every other individual does, but in her eyes, he has nothing to be insecure of. Even when he wipes out on a wave and appears out of the water with sand clumped in his salt-kissed strands of blonde hair, he manages to make it look cool.

"What are you smiling about?"

John B's laughter makes her look up from where she concentrated on the dirt path to see him looking back at her. He stands at the entrance to her house with the rest of the sandbags they carried up placed meticulously in front of the door to prevent water from entering the house. They did the same thing with the back door an hour ago.

Is she smiling? She hadn't even realized her expression changed from one of exhaustion and fear at the dark clouds closing in above to a grin, so her face instantly drops in guilt. After running out on JJ for the second time two days ago to go to work, any mention of him from their friends has left her drowning in shame.

She can't recall the bulk of her memories from the night of the Fourth of July party, but she fills in the gaps between those flashes of memory with what their friends told her about it.

Thanks to her overindulgence, there are holes poked in the fabric of her memory.

It jumps from her last fully sober moment of seeing JJ across the room with the kook girl to dancing clumsily with Kie to the floral scent of her makeup wipes that she can't attach a specific visual image to.

Then, she can remember waking up with a start in the middle of the night to throw up in a pot beside the bed while he held back her hair. Before John B explained it, she was quite confused after waking up about how she somehow got from being jealous over JJ flirting with another girl to waking up in the same bed as him.

She grunts as she plops the last sandbag down into place and decides to take a seat on the steps leading up to the door.

"It wasn't anything special," Y/N says and watches him come down to sit next to her, "I was just thinking about taking something so I can pass out and avoid having a panic attack over this stupid storm."

Unlike JJ, she isn't that skilled of a liar. It's obvious to anyone who knows her well when she does it based on the way her eye contact begins to drift away and her voice raises in pitch when she speaks. She's too honest with her friends to handle keeping secrets from them, which is why it's been so difficult for her with everything that has happened recently. Not only does she lie to the Pogues, she also avoids them by association in the process of trying to avoid JJ.

Regardless of how obvious her bluffing is, John B doesn't call her out on it. Instead, he focuses on a different part of what she said.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone? I know your parents are out of town till next week..." he trails off into concerned silence.

The tip of her sneaker hangs off of the edge of the bottom step and absentmindedly digs a line into the dirt as she takes in his question.

Being alone when she's prone to panicking is a recipe for disaster. Anxiety and loneliness have a relationship similar to that of a weapon and ammunition. It takes very little for her to fall down the rabbit hole of obsessive thinking and break down into a hyperventilating, fearful mess, especially when no one else is there to tug her out of those dark thoughts.

Most of the time, the people who help her with that are her parents. If they're home during one of these episodes, she'll come stumbling downstairs to them from her room for help, and they'll do everything they can to bring her down from hysterics. Her friends, on the other hand, have yet to witness her have one of those moments.

"Having people with me helps, you know? But it is what it is, I'll just try to cope the best I can and hope for the best."

He nods, and though he's a portrait of understanding, she wonders if he finds it as juvenile and stupid as she does.

Logically, she knows that this anxiety is something many people experience. She understands that it's something that is mostly out of her control but can't help but tear herself apart over it.

She thinks to herself, What kind of weirdo can't sit inside during a thunderstorm or hurricane without losing their shit? Why am I not the one in control of my own mind when this happens?

Do her friends think similar things? Do they think it's as pathetic as she does, or is she just paranoid that they pick her flaws apart as much as she does? And, of course, she wonders what JJ would think if he saw her panic like that. He may have seen her start to become anxious on the HMS Pogue, but he hasn't seen her panic panic before, not in the way that her parents have, and she wonders if he'd think less of her for it.

Right when she's about to change the topic and steer him away from a chance to think of how ridiculous she's being about the approaching hurricane, he says something that makes her look back over at him.

"Then come spend the night at the Chateau. I can distract you. We can play board games and shit."

"Really?" she asks.

The idea of anyone wanting to waste an entire night playing board games and possibly signing themselves up for having to talk her down from a panic attack makes her heart melt.

"Yeah, why not? You need a friend tonight. You know any of us would do anything for you. You're like my little sister, dude, we'd all probably hack off a limb if we thought it'd help you. Especially JJ."

John B's last second name-drop is designed specifically for where he wants this conversation to go. Underneath the need to get his friends back to normal, he does feel a little guilty for having to do this. She thinks he's only offering to let her stay with him to help her—and he is, even if there weren't a rift between her and JJ, he'd still offer—but he has a different reason.

"Right," she says softly. "Speaking of which...is he gonna be there tonight?"

With how often he escapes his house to spend a night or two in temporary safety at the Chateau, it's not an unfounded assumption. He and John B spend more time together than any of them because of this, and when she goes over to hang out, she knows that he and JJ often come as a package deal.

He tries to play it cool and not give up anything that could make her suspicious of him, looking off at the van parked in the driveway as he takes a second to collect his thoughts. It's never easy for him to deceive people he cares about, even if it's for their own good. It wasn't easy when he invited JJ to spend the night a few hours ago with the knowledge that he'd soon invite Y/N too either, but he managed.

As always, Pope is the brains behind this operation. He was the one to suggest inviting them both over to wait out Agatha together when the three of them put their heads together to come up with a solution to their oblivious friends' drama. After JJ stormed out of the house the morning after the party, they knew they had to do something about it. This was what it came to.

"Nah. I offered but he said he's staying at home until this whole thing blows over."

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

She knows JJ well enough to know that he would literally rather eat glass than be trapped in a confined space with his dad for an entire day. Perhaps it's only because it's what she wants to believe. She wants to believe that she won't have to see him again tonight after everything that happened. How can she handle having to tell him why got so drunk that night and made an ass of herself? She can't bear to tell him all of that unnecessary drama started because she was jealous.

What right does she have to feel that way? He isn't hers. They aren't together, and she thinks it's quite obvious that he doesn't want a relationship out of whatever it is they have together. It was one night. She has no right to be mad at him for flirting with other girls because of it.

"Then I'll definitely be taking you up on that offer. Thank you," she says.

The old wooden stairs make a squealing sound when she stands to make her way inside to gather her things for the night, but the feeling of a warm hand gripping her forearm stops her mid-step. Her eyes follow down the length of her arm back to where he sits, glancing at her with this knowing look in his eyes that makes her want to turn and hide.

"When are you gonna talk things out with him, Y/N?" he asks. "He misses you."

Since the party, no one has had the courage to burst her bubble of pretending not to care until now, but now that someone has, all of her bottled up emotions stir inside of her at a simple concept she hadn't considered yet.

JJ misses her.

For the first time since they began this stupid game of cat and mouse, she is confronted with how desperately she misses him back. So consumed with the task of concealing everything that happened and trying to avoid him, she hadn't acknowledged that all she ever really wants is to be with him lately.

She misses his jokes and the way he looks at her when she giggles at them. She misses his smile when they play fight on the HMS Pogue. She even misses when he dangles her over the edge of the boat as a means to end the wrestling match, making her squirm in his strong hold as he threatens to toss her overboard.

But what she misses most of all is how he never lets her fall in. It's something about the way he looks at her as he pulls her back onboard, how time itself seems to stop in the moment between when he's still holding her and when she feels her feet touch the deck again.

Then, they'll suddenly want nothing to do with each other for the next half hour.

JJ will make himself busy forgetting the way her hands felt holding onto his shoulders for dear life, burning the memory of her palm prints into his skin for the next few hours. And she'll try her hardest to forget that charming smile and the feeling of his arms around her. But it won't work, not really, and when they're both laying down to sleep at night, they'll have one thing keeping them awake.

She takes a second to internalize what he said and avoid exposing the effect it has on her to hear it before asking, "Did he tell you that?"

The sky overhead grows darker and darker by the second, but she has yet to notice it due to the topic of their conversation. With JJ involved, her attention shrinks to a tunnel leading only to him. There's no room for anything else but the audacious idea planted in the back of her mind that he might miss her as much as she misses him.

"No, he didn't," John B admits, and right when she's about to say more in response, he cuts her off, "but hear me out. I've known him since we were kids, so I can tell when things aren't right with him, and ever since your relationship with him got complicated, I picked up on some weird vibes."

Y/N doesn't give anything away with how she reacts. He can't tell if she's about to bolt like JJ did or stay to talk and open up to him. All she does is cross her arms over her chest and lean back against the railing.

"Weird in what way?"

"Weird in a way that makes me think you two have to talk it out before you ruin your friendship. I've never seen him act this way over a girl."

That doesn't surprise her. He has a reputation for chasing after any girl available to him, something the Pogues have gently teased him about, and it factors into why she doesn't want to have this dreaded conversation with him. She doesn't want to sit there and listen to him tell her that she was just another one of those girls to him.

Going for broke and being honest about what he thinks of their situation is a better strategy for trying to get her to talk to JJ than the other way around. John B can look back on what happened the morning after the party and see where they went wrong in their approach of trying to get him to talk, but she's less unpredictable and turbulent than he is. The fact that she's hearing him out is enough proof of their differences.

She sighs.

"I know we need to talk sooner or later, but it's hard, you know? I'm so embarrassed of how everything went down at the party, even though I was too fucked up to remember most of it, and I just—" There's a brief second that lapses between when she stops and when she starts again where he can almost see her working through it in her head. "I don't wanna get hurt."

John B's face falls at the mention of the party and her feelings surrounding it.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed of. You drank too much but who cares? The only person who should be embarrassed about that night is the guy that tried to take advantage of you."

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

She can remember what led up to it and the moment she saw JJ pull him away from her, but she can't remember anything about the interaction itself. It wasn't as if he did anything to her—not yet—but the thought of it alone makes her skin crawl because she's seen that before. She's been the JJ in that situation, pulling a wasted Touron away from someone who thought nobody would be looking out for other people at the party, and she knows how quickly those situations can escalate past "harmless" flirting.

The sound of JJ shouting at Tyler echoes in her mind as she reaches for any remaining memories left from the party. He said it right after he punched him, when he was starting to rush forward to follow him onto the ground and pin him there.

"If I see you near my girl again, you're fucking dead! You got that?"

She doesn't remember realizing that he called her that at the moment. She was confused and upset and all she wanted to do was stop him from getting himself in trouble, so she pulled him away from hitting Tyler again without realizing what he said. And even now, she tries to avoid acknowledging it. She reasons with herself, telling herself that he was pissed off and didn't mean it, because if he did, why hasn't he told her how he feels yet?

Y/N looks up and sees how dark the converging clouds have gotten in the time since they began working on prepping the house for the hurricane, so her next words are shakier than usual.

"I guess you're right." She pushes off of her spot against the railing. "But can we not talk about JJ tonight? I kind of wanna hang out and forget about the rest of the stuff I've got going on right now."

This makes him feel a pang of guilt inside of him for the ulterior motive he's kept hidden from her for the duration of the conversation, but he knows it's for the best. Even if her and JJ's inevitable conversation goes in the wrong direction and they don't end up mending fences, it's better that they let it out sooner than later. If they wait any longer, it'll make it worse, and he knows that they're stubborn enough to keep this childish game going for another week or so.

So, he keeps her in the dark for now and offers a kind, "Sure, that's cool with me," despite knowing how messy the night will soon become.

A smile pokes at the edges of her mouth, making the sides of her eyes crinkle, and she extends a hand to help him up from where he sits.

"Now," she says as they make their way inside the house for her to pack a bag, "are you ready to get absolutely crushed in Monopoly?"

It started to rain before they left her house, and by the time they pull into the driveway of the Chateau, it's pouring down on them with violent winds whipping droplets at their faces hard enough to hurt.

The rapid pace of her pulse beats with such an intensity, she can feel it in her head. They shouldn't have taken so much time at her place before heading over here. While she was packing, they talked and dilly-dallied the whole time, and now they pay the price for it.

If she knew that it would start this soon into the night, she probably would've hurried things along sooner, but it's too late. She's already starting to feel that tightness in her chest and each breath of air feels less satisfying with every inhale. It's not so bad that she loses complete control of herself, but it's getting there, and she can't express how badly she doesn't want to lose her shit in front of John B.

The passenger side door is slammed shut by the force of the wind behind her, the noise becoming swallowed up in the rest of the budding storm, and she stifles a sound of surprise that escapes her in reaction to it. They're lucky they made it here in the first place. Any later in the night and they probably would've had to take refuge at her place until it blew over.

She decides to focus on how the edges of her white sneakers are swallowed up by the muddy earth on her way through the front yard to distract herself. It stains them a deep brown color and simultaneously washes them clean from the rain coming down from above, which she'd probably be annoyed about if she weren't such a nervous wreck. But, because she's too busy keeping her backpack raised over her head to shield herself from the rain on her way up to the front door, it's not high up on her list of priorities.

Since both the screen door and the door behind it are unlocked, she doesn't hesitate to come bursting into the house as she usually does.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, feeling that telltale tension in her chest and shoulders, and laughs at the sight of John B running in as she kicks off her shoes. His t-shirt is speckled with rainwater, and his hair is saturated enough with it to stick to the sides of his face after he crosses the threshold into the Chateau.

The sound of her laughter makes JJ's heart stop from where he stands in the kitchen.

"There was an umbrella right on the dashboard, why didn't you take—"

Her heart might as well have stopped just as abruptly as the sentence she was in the middle of saying when she turned and saw him standing there.

Maybe they're both a tad too dramatic, but it takes a full few seconds for them to stop staring at each other in surprise. He looks like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide with surprise like he was caught doing something he shouldn't even though all he was doing was grabbing a beer from the fridge.

It's been two days since they last saw each other. For him, the last glimpse he got of her was when he peeked through the blinds to see her pedaling away on her bike to go to work, but hers was somewhat different.

The last time she saw him, he was asleep. Their legs were tangled together underneath the sheets and his face was smushed against her chest, allowing her to feel the soft puffs of his exhales on her skin every few seconds. It's a wonder that she managed to slip away unnoticed once she remembered she had work that morning. He was holding her closely, so closely that she found it hard to discern where she ended and he began in the dazed, hungover headspace she woke up in.

It's when the conversation she had with John B on the front steps of her house comes back to the forefront of her mind that she puts together what's happening right now. Now that they're here, it's far too late to leave. With how aggressively the wind and rain batter the area surrounding the house, it's obvious that they're not going anywhere.

It seems to click with them at the same time, because JJ turns to look at him only a half second after she does.

Y/N says, completely serious, "If you did what I think you did, I'm gonna kill you."

Before either of them can think of doing anything, John B shoots out from the doorway and runs past her in the direction of the hallway where his bedroom is.

"Gotta catch me first!"

They both chase him, JJ hopping over the back of the couch to run after him, but they end up coming to a screeching halt at the shut door right when they hear the lock turn and click.

Neither of them knows what they were planning to do when they caught him, cause it isn't like they'd hurt him, but they bang on the door nonetheless. The sound is drowned out by the sound of the wind and rain pounding the outside walls of the house, picking up speed, and for a second she wants to kick the door open.

She shouts, "John B! Open this door!"

The last thing she wanted tonight was to be trapped in a house with the one person she didn't want to see. Doesn't John B realize how embarrassing it is for her to be around him when she knows that he's gonna reject her? He may have said something about JJ never acting so weird over a girl before, but he's wrong. There's no way JJ actually wants her...right?

"I can't hear you, this storm's kinda loud!" he yells back at them through the locked door. "Maybe try again later!"

Neither of them wants to acknowledge the other. In fact, they don't even want to look at each other right now, so all they can do to stop themselves from acknowledging the elephant in the room is continue trying to get answers out of John B. What does he think that locking them together in the Chateau for the night will accomplish other than make them ignore their own drama and team up to plot their revenge on him?

Though he's significantly less angry than she is, JJ pulls the doorknob enough to make the door whine on its hinges and pleads with their friend, "This isn't funny, John B. Open the door."

"Not until you guys stop being immature and talk to each other."

She furrows her brows at him even though he can't see her, saying, "It's none of your business. You can't just trap us here cause you think you know what's best for us."

The sound of thunder rumbling above the house makes her flinch, hand shooting out to latch onto JJ's arm on an instinct she couldn't consciously resist. Feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palm and the fingers clutched around his wrist sends shocks of familiar electricity up her body. Touching him always makes her feel hyperaware of herself, leaving her to wonder if he can sense her pulse picking up or notice how her breathing pattern turns uneven.

With that being said, it's safe to say that the night they spent together took that sensation of electricity and hyperawareness to a height it hadn't reached before.

That time, it wasn't a brush of their hands or an arm over her shoulder, it was the epitome of physical closeness. She couldn't handle it. He was so sickeningly sweet with her, yet, at the same time, he knew all of the right times to be commanding and in control too. There were awkward moments at first, sure, but once they became comfortable with each other, it was game over.

And whenever they've touched since, she hasn't been able to get those memories off of her mind. It's less prevalent now, since she's only holding onto him out of fear, but it's still there underneath it all—the unfiltered desperation of the lust in his eyes, the low noises that escaped his parted lips, and the strong pair of hands that pinned her hips down on the mattress to give him the leverage to really give it to her at the intensity she begged for.

It's pathetically easy for her to be sucked right back into the vortex of emotions, memories, and fears that haunt her whenever they touch, but he brings her back out of it just as easily when he speaks.

"You okay?"

John B was as good as forgotten by him as soon as he felt her jolt next to him and grab onto his wrist like she was hanging from a ravine and he was the only thing preventing her from falling. It makes him feel like a fool, but even when they're ignoring each other, the urge to comfort and protect her from anything that displeases her never disappears. He'd literally fistfight Zeus if it meant there'd be less thunder to scare her.

If he weren't hiding behind a locked door to avoid their wrath, JB would probably be calling him a simp right about now.

The concern on his face is so pure and unaffected by any of the chaos that surrounds them, both physical and emotional, that it makes her stomach turn with a sick feeling. God, he really does care about her. Why does that scare her? Why doesn't she want to believe that he cares? Why is she so set on believing that he wanted nothing more than a quick fuck from her?

Her eyes turn down to see their connected hands, realizing all in one moment what she did and pulling her hand away as if she were burned.

"I—Yeah," she stops, looking up at him, then back to the closed bedroom door, "I'm fine. You know how it is, it's just the storm."

They're both left with no choice but to face the music after days of avoidance that had no good reason behind it other than the respective doubts and fears they have. Yet even now that they're standing here, unsure of what comes next, they're hesitant to say or do anything that might disrupt the illusion they've created in the week and a half since they first ruined their friendship for good.

It feels as though the tension that has been boiling between them is coming close to turning explosive and all it will take is one tremor of their self-control for it to spill over.

Every feeling they have feels so contradictory. They want to but they also don't. They almost do it, then hesitate and decide to ignore each other for days. At the party, this tug of war game was at its peak for JJ when she was telling him about her jealousy and cuddling up to him, but he couldn't do it then, not when she was drunk. And by the time he had a whole night to think it over and see her biking away, he didn't want to risk it.

She looks away from him, hoping that "out of sight, out of mind" may ring true for once, and says to John B through the door, "Whatever, have fun. I won't hold JJ back when you finally come out of there though."

He won't actually do anything to him, maybe just a non-serious fight that'll end with her walking in on them rolling around on the floor trying to wrestle each other, but she likes to fuck with him anyway. For the dick move he just pulled, she thinks he can withstand a little teasing.

Without anything else to say, Y/N turns and walks off to make herself useful elsewhere—anything to distract from the buzzing, anxious energy that surrounds her from both the hurricane and being forced to confront JJ. She tries to play it cool though she is anything but at the moment, allowing herself to grimace once her back is turned to the blonde boy still standing against the wall in the hallway.

Maybe if she keeps pushing this false sense of normalcy, it'll work. It worked when they both started pretending things never happened between them initially after they had sex, so who's to say it can't work now?

All they have to do is get through the next 12-24 hours without talking and all will be well. Right?

They tried.

They truly tried to get through the night without inciting chaos within the Chateau, but, for these two idiots, not inciting chaos is a task easier said than done. Not only was John B much more stubborn with staying in his room than either of them bargained for, he didn't even attempt to speak to them for the first five hours and they were left with nothing to do but find new ways to avoid talking to each other.

It was simple in the beginning.

She went off on her own and sat with her headphones in to drown out the sounds of the storm.

With her eyes fluttered shut to block out anything but the sound of The Cure blasting into her ears, there was no reason for her to have to worry about anything once her nerves began to settle. Since the songs drowned out any sound and all she could see was darkness behind her closed eyelids, she was able to drift away with the distraction of the music.

The thing is, after a while, she started to see pieces of him in every song she skipped to. She made it a full minute into Just Like Heaven before a supercut of her most treasured memories of him began appearing in her head. Fade Into You? Skipped as soon as the first dreamy lyric flooded in through the tangled cords of the headphones. Cloud 9? Forty seconds in. By the time Dirty Little Secret came on, she decided that her playlist was mocking her.

The headphones were out of her ears, hastily wrapped up, and stowed away in the small pocket of her overnight bag before the chorus of the song could hit. Thankfully for her, JJ wasn't looking when she ripped the headphones out and put them away in a huff, so by the time he turned to see her again, she was laying down on the couch to "nap"—meaning she laid awake for another hour and cursed John B for making her endure this.

While she was daydreaming of a John B voodoo doll, JJ was worried about her.

Yes, the topic of their relationship/friendship/situationship/whatever-the-fuck-it-is was bombarding him against his will every five seconds, but not without him coming back to his concern for her. A small sound of thunder on an otherwise perfect day was enough to make her zone out and start getting antsy that day on the boat, so he didn't want to know how bad it could get during a time like this.

He tried to play it cool, and, in all honesty, his remaining scraps of sanity lasted a lot longer than hers. Four and a half hours passed, then, as the storm began to do its worst on their town, the power flickered out and left them in complete darkness. At that point, John B was passed out in his bedroom, so he didn't care nor notice when they had to find a few candles and stumble through the dark.

Somewhere along the way, having to search through the dark house for candles to light and place around the living room led them here...he isn't quite sure how.

JJ can hardly open his eyes enough to see through the rain that pounds against him the second he runs after her through the back door. The wind is so aggressive and unrelenting, it almost sends him stumbling a few steps when he follows her blurry figure a few paces behind where she tries to flee the house in a panic.

"Get back inside!" he shouts as he picks up his speed to catch up, "Y/N!"

The part of him that isn't focused on the pure physicality of trying to see and move through the stormy weather is utterly overwhelmed with fear. Not for himself but for her. She's deathly afraid of mild storms, let alone hurricanes, and yet she ran through the back door when he tried comforting her through an anxiety attack. One would think that she wouldn't want to go directly into the thing she fears the most, but what sent her running for the hills wasn't the panic itself, it was him.

It's hard for her to think rationally in this state, but all she knows is that he was there, he was saying all the right things and holding her, and she couldn't do it. The fear began to blend to one centered around both him and the storm. The hours of useless distractions and ruminating in her thoughts built up to this point of contention, then it snapped.

Between the thunder, his voice, and the voice in the back of her head that was urging her to confess her feelings and do as John B advised them to, it became too much. Maybe it was the most idiotic split-second decision she made without any regard for logic or reason or her safety, but she bailed. For the third time, she couldn't handle the pressure and ran from him.

The only difference is that he couldn't let her leave this time.

He gasps for air against the streams of water flowing down his face, soaking his hair and making it hang in his eyes to obstruct his view more than the weather already has. It happened so fast, neither of them are wearing shoes. His feet sink into the muddy yard with every stride he takes in his frantic pursuit of her and it frustrates him no end because of how it slows him down.

There's endless dangerous possibilities with her being out here. She could be knocked over into the marsh by the wind, or stuck and hurt by a piece of debris—merely thinking about it makes him call out her name louder in the hopes that it'll wake her from her panicked trance.

After trudging through the mud all the way to the edge of the yard, he finally manages to get to her.

"What are you doing?" JJ shouts, turning her around and grabbing onto both of her arms as if one gust of wind would sweep her away if he didn't, "You're gonna get hurt!"

Stumbling backwards in the direction of the screened-in porch that surrounds the back door, he uses their difference in strength to tug her away in the direction she came out in. The rain makes it difficult to keep a firm grasp on her, and she almost slips away a couple of times when the wind picks up enough to make him too unsteady to hold on.

His arms slip around her waist for a better grasp on her the closer they come to reaching the house. The last thing he wants is to almost get her back inside and lose her at the last second. She isn't thinking rationally right now with the panic she feels taking full control of her responses. He knows firsthand how it feels to be thrown headfirst into a panic attack, he's been in her shoes before and knows better than anyone the lengths your irrational mind will go to if it means survival. And for whatever reason, her response is flight, not fight.

The door to the screen porch takes all of his effort to open against the power of the wind blowing it back against the house.

He grits his teeth as he forces it open, one arm secured around her midsection, and helps her in before he slips inside too. The second he lets go of the door, it's sent slamming back into place and rattling in the frame behind them, but he doesn't spend anymore time on it other than the few seconds it takes to lock it. As soon as it clicks with him that they're safe—most importantly, that she's safe—he whips around to face her with a cold rage flowing through his veins.

"What the fuck?"

She stands in front of him with water pouring off of her in rapid drops onto the rug, and there are no thoughts in her head outside of the ones telling her to leave. Her tears blend in with the droplets of rain so seamlessly that he wouldn't know she's crying if not for the sound of it.

In between her rapid breaths and sobs, she yells back at him, "I was scared, okay?"

"Why'd you run out into the storm if you—"

"I wasn't afraid of the storm, I was afraid of you!"

The silence that follows is louder than anything they've experienced. Nothing can rival it, not the thunder, the rain, or anything can drown it out while he stares at her in shock. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he reaches for something, anything, he can say in response to that, but there's nothing. For once, he is absolutely speechless.

Things got awkward between them in the initial aftermath of last week, but not like this. There was never an instance where he felt like there was nothing left for him to say to her to fill the uncomfortable silence that always brought forth memories of them together until now. Until she said the last thing he wanted or expected to hear.

His anger subsides as he picks over what he did in his head for anything that could've made her feel unsafe.

Before it evolved into him chasing after her through the hurricane, he noticed how terrible it had gotten for her when he lit the first candle. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her chest began to rise and fall faster with each second that passed. He could see it on her face that things were getting worse, but, now that he thinks of it, it got worse once he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder.

It felt like a dream sequence in his head, so hazy and faraway now that it's over, and he was so stunned by what she was doing, he didn't run after her until a few seconds later. There was a delay in which he stood there in surprise and tried to process what the hell just happened to no avail. Though it wasn't very long, he remembers it feeling like eternity tucked into the cramped space of four seconds.

JJ's voice is softer than she's ever heard it, asking into the void of the near-darkness that encloses them, "What'd I do?" And it breaks her heart in half to hear him sound so concerned, so terrified of the idea that he did something to hurt her when all he did was try to help. "I never meant to scare you, I swear. I know how bad it can get sometimes, and I know we haven't been talking but I'd never try to hurt you if that's what you thought..."

His thoughts run rampant with the possibilities of what she was thinking at the time, and he realizes that he can't stand the idea of her thinking anything badly of him. He never cares about what people think, but, fuck, he loathes the idea of her having any ill feelings toward him.

Y/N immediately starts shaking her head, her face scrunching with the emotion and incessant tears.

"I know you'd never hurt me. I was scared because..." she stops herself mid sentence, catching it right when she was about to admit the one thing she promised herself she wouldn't.

But the need to say it doesn't go away this time. Usually, once she catches herself she comes to her senses and realizes how foolish it would've been to confess, but this time is different. This time, the urge to speak her mind and tell him everything sticks around. The words left unsaid creep up her throat, thrashing and begging to let out after months of being pushed aside.

The look in her eyes is strangely reminiscent of the way she looked at him the night they hooked up, almost yearning in its nature, and he couldn't be more confused. She's scared of him, but she's looking at him like she did when she was two seconds away from jumping his bones. And if he didn't do anything wrong, why was she afraid enough to face her worst fear in order to avoid him?

"Because what?" he asks.

That frustration from when they first stepped into the porch hasn't vanished, it only took a backseat once she said she was afraid of him, not the storm, and he can feel it stirring up again. He's tired of not having answers. He's tired of mixed signals and loneliness and unrequited love. Most of all, he's tired of her running away all the time. At this point, he questions whether or not it's worth it to expose his feelings to her and suffer the consequences.

John B was right. This isn't healthy for them, nor is it healthy for them to put their friends through this along with them, and it might be better to not be friends than to stay this way forever. At least that way they wouldn't be wishing for answers that would never come for the rest of their time together.

She decides at this moment that this has to be said before it gets worse, before she runs away again like a scared, immature child and ruins everything.

"Because," she has to shout over the lightning that cracks down on the earth down the street, something she would be trembling in fear over if she weren't so focused on him, "I've been in love with you for a couple months and it scares me more than anything, even this stupid fucking storm! And I've tried so hard to ignore it because I know you don't feel the same way, but you touched me and I just"—a soft cry escapes her—"I couldn't do it anymore."

There it is.

After months of ruminating over it and hiding everything, he knows, and her immediate feeling after she says it isn't what she thought it would be. She expected trepidation and regret, but what she finds on the other side isn't either of those, it's relief. Her dad often tells her when she's nervous about something that the anticipation is worse than the thing itself, and that has never been as true her as it is now.

However, some of the nerves return with the time that passes after she spoke in complete silence. Much like the delayed reaction he had to her running out of the house, it isn't as long as it feels to her. It's a short span of time that it takes for her words to process with him, but it feels like an eternity that he stands there with his head facing the floor in quiet contemplation.

Her heart sinks.

This means he doesn't feel the same way, doesn't it? If he were the one telling her he loved her, she likely would've leaped into his arms and said it back, but he stays where he is.

Then, after what feels like forever, she thinks she sees him start to smile and feels like she's losing her mind. It's quite dark out here, so there's only a limited amount of light to allow her to see his features, but there's no doubting it when a flash of lightning floods the porch with a split-second of harsh light.

Oh God, why is he smiling? What does it mean?

Much to her frustration, the first thing he says after her confession isn't much help in making her understand his feelings either.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Why? The voice in the back of her mind asks incredulously. Is he seriously asking why? He ignored me too. He didn't want to talk about it either, so what else was I supposed to do?

Maybe she was undeniably worse when it came to the avoidance and lack of communication, but he could've reached out to her too. They both could've. Instead, they spent day after day waiting for the other to make the move and pushed the tension further and further until it finally broke. Now she's waiting for him to hurry up and reject her so she can move on with her life.

She shivers from the wind blowing at her wet skin through the screens separating them from the outside world, crossing her arms over her body to hug herself. His eyes follow her movements down to the breaths that are slowly evening out without her realizing it. It turns out that confessing your love for the guy you've been crushing on since the day you met him is a hell of a distraction.

"I thought you wouldn't wanna hear me being all emotional and shit over a one time thing. You've literally never had an actual relationship before. And that's fine," she rambles, "I'll be okay eventually, but that's not who you are and there isn't a problem with that. I just caught feelings when I shouldn't have."

In her defense, she isn't making baseless assumptions about him, he hasn't had a relationship before. His love life hasn't ever really revolved around love itself, it was mostly comprised of random chicks he'd meet at parties or at the beach during the summertime when tourists come to visit the island. Out of all of them, he's the last one the Pogues would expect to fall in love with someone and commit to a relationship, but then...

He looks over at her with a swell of emotion within him that he's never felt before. It wasn't like he hadn't known before now. He did. He even said it out loud to himself that morning after the party, but this is when it feels the most real. Now that she's said it to him, he doesn't feel so stupid for toying with the four letter word in the back of his mind for the entirety of the past week.

In all honesty, he was the last person he would've expected to fall in love with someone this quickly too. He thought he knew himself better than this. He thought he could keep himself hidden away and not let anyone close enough to see him—the real him, faults and feelings and vulnerability included—but she proved him wrong. In walked Y/N with her pretty smile, teeny bikini bottoms, and oddly strong opinions on Ratatouille, and he stood no chance.

This sudden crescendo of emotion only continues to grow when he watches her shiver, soaked to the skin, across from him and decides that he never wants to deny himself of her again. Those feelings of inadequacy that forced him to question his relationship with her may not have gone away, not by a long shot, but they can't stop him anymore. Nothing can.

Like a light flickering to life in this swirling, stormy darkness, she hears JJ's voice asking her, "What if it is who I am?"

It was said so softly, she nearly lost it beneath the rain and wind. But it was not said with a lack of certainty, which is why she questions if she heard him correctly. He sounded so sure of himself that it feels too good to be true. After his reaction, or lack thereof, to her telling him she loved him, she accepted what was coming and this was not it.

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

"You heard me." There's a pause. "Maybe I needed to meet the right girl."

There is no way he's saying what she thinks he's saying because if he is...if he is then that means the tears and frustration have all been for nothing because he loves her back. But if he loves her, then what was with the kook girl? Was it to make her jealous, or is she misinterpreting him right now and he was flirting with that girl because he doesn't have real feelings for her?

"JJ..." she trails off, looking down and thinking to herself how thankful she is that it's too dark for him to fully see how nervous he made her, "don't do that."

Partly, he should feel offended that she'd think he'd toy with her feelings like that, but he isn't. He's too busy wondering what on earth made this poor girl so insecure to think that someone has to be joking to confess their love to her. It makes him wonder if anyone wronged her before she moved here, and he feels that switch of impulsive anger inside of him flip at the thought.

But that anger has nowhere to go, so it shifts into something different—a need to spend every waking moment of the rest of their time together proving to her that she doesn't have to be so afraid. Does it make him a hypocrite? Probably. It wasn't too long ago that he was telling the Pogues how much he didn't deserve to be with her, but he doesn't see himself the same way he sees her. In his head, he has reasons to believe he doesn't deserve her love, but how could she ever think that herself?

He steps closer to her, the movement something so natural and unconscious to him that he doesn't recognize he does it until he hears her breath hitch in the back of her throat. They were already close enough to reach out and touch each other if they wanted to, yet now it's the kind of closeness that wipes the slate of her mind clean with nothing else but the thought of him there to stay.

He starts to say, "I'm not fucking with you, dude, I'm being serious—"

"Then prove it."

Oh.

The sound of his unfinished sentence lingers on the tip of his tongue as he blinks away his surprise at what she said, though it was less of a statement and more of a challenge. What the challenge is, he isn't too sure, but he thinks there could be a couple of meanings there.

The fire in her eyes when she looked up at him is one he recognizes very well, it stars in one too many of his daydreams that center around their secret night together. She rose to the occasion without fail and matched his chaos every time, and that steely-eyed stare is reminiscent of it.

Yet, the sexual undertone isn't the only part of it to be discovered. There's a clear meaning there for him to actually prove it, to put his money where his mouth is, grow a pair, and tell her how he feels with no room for confusion. No more miscommunication, running away, or insecurity getting between them, just a clear cut confession like hers.

His hand runs through his hair to sweep it out of his eyes and keep the wet strands from dripping down his face. It helps him see her a little better too, grounding him to the moment and calming him at the dimmed sight of her expectant, wide eyed gaze.

There were a million versions of this whenever he let himself imagine admitting it. He only let himself picture it on the worst days, days like the one two days ago when he went home to his dad, ending the night by cleaning his own cuts and inspecting his own bruises in his locked bedroom. He did it to distract himself from wanting to storm out of the room and finally kill the son of a bitch after years of suffering in silence.

JJ closed his eyes, shaking with anger, and dreamed of how he'd tell her. There were versions with long speeches that were far too sappy to exist outside of the realm of his imagination. There were versions with him burying the words between friendly jokes to play down the extent of his feelings too, but he thought it worked best in its simplest form.

So he puts it as simply as it gets, lips fighting a soft smile as he crosses the space between them and rushes in to kiss her. It's charged with an accumulation of the pent up love, anger, and sexual desire that has been repressed until now, resulting in something utterly explosive.

He stops for a second to whisper, "I love you too," into her parted lips, and she finally lets herself go at the sound of those words.

Forget that they've only known each other for five months, when you know you know. This is the real deal. This is the kind of feeling that possesses every accessible inch of her heart and she'd never be open enough to admit that to anyone but him at the moment, but neither of them minds that. It's such a new, rapidly developing feeling that they want to protect it and keep it close to them for the time being.

His arms twine around her waist, tugging her the last bit forward and leaving no space between their bodies this time. The sudden movement draws a sharp gasp from the back of her throat and sends her hands out to brace themselves on his shoulders. The sound of the gasp that disappears into their connected mouths only fuels him on more. It makes him more eager with how he touches her with his hands drifting down the plane of her back, one of which playfully slipping beneath the hem of her soaked shirt in a way that makes her smile into the kiss.

He knows exactly what he does to her. He can sense it in the small reactions that would often go overlooked if it were someone less familiar with her.

It's easy to tell by the way she completely surrenders herself to him, letting out these soft little noises she doesn't even realize she's making when he takes control of the interaction and kisses her like he's starved for it. In a way, he is starving for affection and attention from her. He never knew it was something he needed so badly until he got it, and now he never wants to go without having her again.

That's why it doesn't surprise him when she starts getting antsy after a moment or two, especially after keeping away from him for days.

Her hands run down the length of his chest over the soaked t-shirt, taking a quiet victory in how his stomach flinches inward in response to her exploring touch, and she could swear his next exhale trembles as she continues lower. Never once does she break the kiss, which, by the way, has gone past the point of being passionate and straight to downright needy, but her concentration does falter. The perfectly paced rhythm of her mouth moving with his is interrupted when she touches him over the fabric of his shorts.

Those plushy soft lips go on an exploration of their own too. Leaving him with the first opportunity to catch his breath in minutes, she dips her head beneath the sharp edge of jaw in pursuit of the sweet spot she remembers reducing him to a grabby, moaning mess the last time they did this. It doesn't take her long, not if the tightening of his arms around her and the satisfied hum of a moan she feels vibrate beneath her mouth has anything to say for it.

He loses himself in it for a second or two...okay, fine, maybe ten.

The separate sensations combined spark a flame inside of him that burns so hopelessly for whatever she'll give him. His mind sends him images of them together, both real memories from their first time together and imagined fantasies he only let himself visit in his dreams, and he realizes how thinly spread his self control has become lately.

First, it's the thought of her from last week, thoughts of her gasping, writhing, and begging beneath him that makes his cock throb under the teasing contact of her hand through his shorts. But then he's brought elsewhere. Then, though he hasn't thought of it since the day after the party, he thinks of the mix of jealousy and anger he felt when he saw Tyler with her.

He remembers being sane one moment and charging across the room like a madman the next. He remembers how it felt to watch another person's hands slip under her dress, how it felt to see someone else try to kiss her the way he had, and this raw wound of a memory is all it takes to spur him into action.

It happens so quickly, she doesn't even notice what's happening until he has her scooped up in his arms with her legs around his waist. She doesn't even have the chance to voice her surprise or crack a joke at the expense of his neediness before he reconnects their paused kiss with enough force to make her teeth ache in the collision.

JJ's rings are colder than ice, digging into the flesh of her thighs as he holds them with a tight grip and blindly takes the few steps necessary to reach the back entrance of the house. His wet handprint smudges on one of the cracked-open glass doors and sends droplets of water dribbling down the surface. The teardrop of rain zig-zags at the swinging motion of the door on their way in, only changing course again when he nudges it shut behind him a little too loudly.

"Wh"—her question is cut off by him laying her down on the rug-covered floor in between the couch and coffee table—"What if John B wakes up?"

His first thought was to bring her into the spare bedroom, but then he realized that it shares a wall with John B. Then, he considered the pull out couch but realized that would be louder than the room adjacent to their friend's. His only conclusion was this.

It isn't nearly as romantic as either of them would've pictured, but they're not exactly picky either. They're so desperate for it, they'd likely do it on the porch in the middle of a hurricane if there weren't another option. And in their own weird way, they make it romantic.

There's no one else she'd rather risk rug burn for, and that is the peak of romance.

"John B sleeps like a fuckin' rock," JJ says, "and it's own his fault for trapping us here anyway."

He follows her down onto the floor without a second thought, not even looking up to see if they woke their friend with the sound of the door shutting behind them.

Hovered above her, he looks particularly captivating in the flickering candlelight. The fire burning in one of the three-wick candles they scoured the bathroom cabinets for brings out the warm hues in his blonde hair and highlights every edge of the angular face that looks down at her. The porch was far too dark for her to see him in all of his near-perfection, but this is enough for her to notice a multitude of things.

His slicked back, wet hair allows her to see his features better and the way he looks at her...it's enough to make anyone feel red in the face. How hadn't she see it before? She knows it was denial, but, somehow, she used to overlook the small hints along the way like how he looks at her like she's the only thing that makes sense to him. For the first time in a while, she allows herself to embrace the idea of being loved without looking for something to justify her fears surrounding it.

The sound of her voice brings him out of the mesmerized trance he fell under at the sight of her.

"I've missed you," she says softly, "like a lot."

The sweet admission slows him down for a second, making him stop to ignore the distracting desire that she sparked to life a moment ago and take the time to cherish this moment of rare serenity with her.

It's a wonder that she hasn't even acknowledged the storm raging on outside since they've come back in. It's all thanks to him, of course, since she's been too focused on everything happening between them, but it surprises him. It makes a sense of pride flare up in him on her behalf for being capable of forgetting something she fears so much.

But, on the other hand, it reminds him of how distraught she was right before their conversation/argument on the porch shifted from her panic to the topic of their relationship, and he can't help but hesitate a little.

"I missed you too." The hand he isn't using to support himself above her cups her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. "Are you okay though? You were just crying and I don't wanna make you—"

"Yes."

It was so said so quickly, there was zero hesitation. It's not that it doesn't surprise him that she's as eager as he is after what started to happen out on the porch, but it does make his eyes widen a little. His mouth curls with a slight grin. It's the kind that never fails to make her stomach fluttering and light with butterflies.

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm okay, and I promise I'll let you know if I'm not," Y/N clarifies.

"Okay."

There's a short moment where all they do is look at each other with a complete loss for words to convey what they feel right now. It isn't as awkward as it would've been prior to tonight. Before they confessed their feelings, they wouldn't have been able to look at one another for any longer than a few seconds without needing to walk away to break the tension. Now, things have changed. They don't feel the need to conceal how much they care anymore.

They're still the same bickering duo they've always been with the added fun of being head over heels. She never used to understand how some people could let their feelings for another person drive them crazy, but it's done more than make her crazy this past week. It made her jealous, obsessive, and somehow happy too, and no one has ever made her feel so many varying emotions in her life.

Her fingertips graze the stretch of skin between where his cargo shorts sit on his hips and his shirt rides up the side of his torso, and he swallows thickly at the feeling.

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

Her lilting, smooth voice is enough to soothe any nerves he could possibly have. It's as if hearing her ask that paired with the hand teasing the waistband of his shorts pulled him back to the place he'd been before when she was teasing him over his clothes.

He answers honestly, his head going fuzzy with the crushing desire that courses through him, "Not as nervous as I make you," and closes the space between them again.

The cheeky comment doesn't go unnoticed by her, not one bit. It makes her face heat up in embarrassment that is purely instinct after having to hide her feelings from her for so long. Maybe after they've been together for longer, it won't make her blush every time he acknowledges the effect he has on her out loud, but that day isn't today. Today, she goes hot in the face from a sole second of his attention, let alone this.

JJ lets his hand climb up the length of her torso as they kiss as if they have all the time in the world, as if their best friend isn't sleeping less than twenty feet away from them, until it flattens at the base of her neck. It doesn't curl around her neck and squeeze, nor does it do anything but remind her how much she loves the feeling of him touching her, the large palm of his hand simply stays draped over her throat to flaunt his ability to sway her nerves.

She's pretty sure if it were anyone else, it wouldn't work, but he's JJ for fuck's sake, and the quiet display of dominance sends an exhilarating little thrill rumbling through her. It isn't anything over the top or exaggerated like some people would do in an attempt to stake a claim over the person they love, just a simple gesture that they both know the meaning of.

She's his. After five months of friendship, two months of silent pining, and a week of sexually confused hell, she's his, and he'll never let her forget it.

The wind rattles the windows over the couch with its force and she notices that his hips grind into hers at the sudden sound. Even in the midst of such a heated moment, it's downright cute how he still makes an effort to distract her from what she fears. And, boy, does it work.

Their panting breaths in the brief seconds they allow themselves to break away from each other are the only sounds audible in the small living room. The storm drowns it all out for now, including the noises that start to leave them from the steadily building pleasure of their bodies moving together.

She can feel how hard he is through the layers that separate them with every absentminded thrust that brushes the fabric of her panties up against her clit each time. It leaves her breathless and wondering, despite already knowing, what it'll feel like when he finally slips inside of her again.

They both fantasized about it in the time they spent apart. Neither of them would dare deny it, least of all JJ. It actually became frustrating after a while because she started to become the only scenario he could conjure to get himself off when he had a rare moment of privacy. His fantasies, all stemming from the night that was so perfect, he began to question the reality of it, linger in his head.

The best part of his fantasies were the parts of them based in truth, and if he knows anything about her when she's in this state, it's that she's needy. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip in a silent urging to let her deepen the kiss, and he complies without a second to spare, willing to entertain her every whim so long as she keeps being so good for him.

He revels in her muffled squeak of a moan when he presses down on the sides of her throat at the precise moment his hips grind down to meet hers. She can't keep herself still for any longer than a half-second, always meeting his movements halfway and unknowingly doing another thing that will be the death of him.

She leads his shirt up his body without having to second guess herself, knowing that he's always on the same wavelength as her no matter what. This was how it was the last time too. Anything she did, he was already one step ahead, and tonight isn't much different. By the time her hands ball up the dripping cotton fabric, JJ is lifting the hand off of her neck to reach for the neckline of the shirt and help tug it off.

There's a sense of urgency in everything they do. Charged up with frustration and jealousy that brewed within the days they spent apart, there's nothing to stop them from reducing themselves to a pair of panting, impatient lovers too consumed in each other to care about the outside world.

The sopping wet fabric is thrown beyond her line of sight and lands on the hardwood floor with a 'thwack' that accompanies their cacophony of moans and gasps, and she whimpers at the sight of him. It may have to do with the fact that he's guiding their bodies together at a cadence and pressure perfect enough to make her legs tremble, but seeing him like this does nothing but aid the sensation.

Golden skin glistening under the candlelight, tendrils of half-dry blonde hair falling into his face with the lazy effort of his movements, and a stray raindrop that squeezed from the wet shirt dripping down his chest...she's not gonna make it out of tonight alive, is she? In her memory, she knew he was a sight to see in the midst of a heated moment, but, fuck, memories do not hold up beside the real experience of it.

Y/N is so caught up in his seemingly endless beauty, she doesn't notice him peeling her damp denim shorts off of her hips until they're halfway down her legs, and the only reason she does notice is because he must shift his position to do it. Suddenly, the budding feeling that stirred from their needy antics is plucked away and left to ache for more in the absence of him between her thighs.

Her middle and index fingers hook around the front of his necklace to pull him back down to her, but he doesn't budge at first. He's too busy trying to rid her of her shirt to care.

It was too much of a distraction while they kissed for him to resist slipping it off of her when he got the chance to. Much to his frustration when he first realized they were trapped with each other, she's braless underneath, and it's only worse now that the t-shirt is soaked to her skin and clinging to every delicate curve.

Once the clothing gives way to the canvas of her bare skin, he submits to her urgency and follows her down by the fingers hooked around his necklace without any qualms.

As soon as they resume, it's as if they never stopped to begin with, and they start to realize how seamlessly they fit together as the seconds elapse. Neither of them are actively thinking about it while he dips his hand into the front of her panties, but it is in their subconscious.

It's a revelation of sorts, an ah-ha moment where it hits them both in a sweeping realization that it was obvious from the day they met. They should've known sooner, they should've dropped their pride and admitted it as soon as the first inklings of desire began to pop up, but they didn't. Instead, it washes over them now and they let the current take them away together.

Her mouth falls open against his cheek at the feeling of his fingers swiping through the arousal that pools in her underwear for him, dragging the wetness over his fingertips and spreading it up to brush fleetingly against her clit. It's a split-second of a touch that it makes her hips lift up off the floor on their own accord to seek out more. It makes her dig her nails into the skin stretching over his taut shoulder muscles in a wordless plea for more that he doesn't indulge her in at first.

He makes her earn it from him without having to say a single word. He touches her, but he doesn't touch where she wants or ease his fingers into her to satisfy the need she feels yet. It's a blessing and a curse that he manages to turn her on to such an extent. He does it for her like nothing else can, so much so that she's noticed a distinct difference in how it feels when she's alone versus when they're together. When she's alone, it can tend to feel like active effort, but when she's with him, it's as natural as the urge to breathe.

His smirk is felt against her skin the entire time she begs for it through the revealing actions of her body—her hips jerking up toward him, her chest pressing tightly to his, and the sound of her murmuring, "Please," in a breathy tone that could stop his heart.

"Tell me what you want," JJ says, every word constrained and tight in a way that tells her he's a lot less composed than he lets on, and "accidentally" swipes his thumb over her clit again. "Talk to me, baby."

She almost forgot in their time apart how much of an effect he has on her, but this is the best reminder of that she could possibly imagine. If she could, she would find a way to bottle the feeling he gives her and keep it with her forever so that, no matter what happens between them, she'll never have the misfortune of forgetting him.

What he said simultaneously melts her heart and frustrates her to no end because he knows! He knows damn well what she wants from him and won't give it to her unless she asks for it, and she hates herself for loving it. She hates herself for enjoying the flushed-face embarrassment it brings to her cheeks to be so open with him about what she needs.

She swallows the lump in her throat and tries to focus through the clouded landscape of her head to speak to him. It's hard to concentrate when he's above her like this, touching her, calling her pet names, and looking at her like that.

With his lips worshiping the sensitive skin along her neck, she finds it hard to choke out the words, "I want you," into the humid air that has infiltrated the house.

It's not a lie. Anything regarding her wanting him or any related feeling is no longer something she can hide anymore, but they both know it isn't exactly what he wanted. No matter how it took his breath away to hear her say it, he was seeking something more specific. He was aiming to make her ask, maybe even beg, for it. They're both too impatient to wait and based on how wet his fingertips are from barely dipping into her, he can tell she's as eager as he is.

It's been thirteen days too long since the last time they allowed themselves to meet this way, and neither of them wants to let it happen again.

She was nearly trembling with the urge to go to him whenever they were together in the company of their friends, unable to think about anything except for how badly she wanted him. All the while, he appeared so unbothered, especially on the night of the party when he flirted with someone else, that she didn't even believe he felt the same way back. Thankfully for her, she couldn't have been more wrong.

He clicks his tongue and says, still teasing her with light touches that never linger in one place for too long, "That wasn't very specific."

Part of her should know that he's about to do something based on how he withdraws his head from its cherished place in the crook of her neck, but she's too caught up in the anticipation and seeing his face for the first time in a minute to think about it. How dare he look so good? She could cry in frustration, although she might actually already be tearing up a little with the rush of neediness hitting her in its full force.

Never has she felt so turned on by so little physical contact before. It usually takes longer for her to get to this point, whether it be alone or in the past with previous partners, yet all it took was being kissed, touched, and being given his undivided attention and now...She realizes she's in trouble. He has her in an emotional and sexual chokehold at this point, and she fears that no one can compare.

"I want—" her voice is snuffed out in an instant when he eases two fingers into her, "Oh!"

So that's why he pulled away from her neck to look at her.

It was worth abandoning the mark forming on her neck just to see the expression on her face shift. She gets this cute look when anything overwhelming starts to happen where her brows scrunch a little to create a soft wrinkle between them as her mouth drops open in a moan. And after ten steady minutes of doing nothing but some over the clothes action and painstaking teasing, this is as overwhelming as it gets without it crossing the line to being too much.

It never occurred to her how much larger his fingers are compared to hers until now. This type of pleasure is like an itch only someone else can scratch to her, she feels virtually nothing when she does it to herself, but when he does it, it's like an explosive being set off inside of her. Especially with the thumb that sneaks up to circle her clit without stopping to tease her again, she is putty in his hands at this point.

Every smooth stroke of his fingers into her reaches a spot she can never quite find on her own, and she can feel the cold bite of rings when they're buried into her to the knuckle.

It's a surprise every time, even when she knows to expect it. Like a delightful chill running up through her body and down her spine exactly how it's intended to. It strikes an idea in her head for when he eventually pulls them out of her, conjuring the image of her sucking them clean for him just for the sake of imagining what it'll do to him.

With that idea tucked away in the back of her mind, he's the center of her world right now. All she breathes, thinks, and feels is him. Whether it be the sight of him, or the feelings he's giving her, or even the taste of his kiss that still lingers on her tongue, it connects to one common thread.

"What were you saying?" JJ asks, and she wants to wipe that smirk right off his face.

It's virtually impossible for her to piece together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence detailing every filthy idea she has for him, but she tries. It takes another moment or two of her succumbing to the rapid incline of pleasure that he gives her, watching her in wonder through any greedy buck of her hips or gasping inhale that makes her head loll back onto the floor.

At first, what she wanted to say was that she wanted him to touch her, to do anything more than the fleeting touches he gave before. Now, she wants more than that. Now that she's drawn in closer to the eventual high that's to come, she doesn't want it to happen like this. She wants to feel closer to him than this, wants to feel him throb inside of her and fuck her with all of the urgency and desperation that has accumulated in their time apart.

That's why her hands start to grab at the belt loops of his shorts to tug him closer by them, meeting his gaze through the hazy bliss of his fingers pumping into her. It's not enough.

"Please"—she keeps pulling him closer to her, so close that there's hardly any space left to cross, and he revels in her desperation—"just fuck me already..."

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

Though this was what he wanted, what he coaxed out of her with the teasing and the pretend sense of a nonchalant attitude on his part, it hits him harder than he expected it to to hear her say it. It's not necessarily the act of begging itself either, it's the fact that she's the one doing it. She may have been jealous of the girl at the party, but she had nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest.

Before her, he never thought he'd fall for someone this way. It's not like he had a hatred for love or anything, he understood the appeal, it simply wasn't his thing.

He was perfectly content with his only form of companionship being his friends. Then, she came along and changed it. So to hear her say something like that isn't just breathtaking, it's the kind of thing that makes his heart ache for her. It hits him precisely where she wanted it to, and he has never felt as consumed with love the way he does now.

JJ can do nothing to stop himself from pouncing on her at this point, like some animalistic form of himself has worn down the restraint he used to keep himself at bay.

The loss she feels when his fingers slip away from her is an emptiness she mourns at first before she realizes what's happening. He pulls away slightly to reach down between them for the front of his shorts, and their hands clash as they both frantically try to undo them together. The rings adorning his fingers glisten when they catch the light and remind her of the thought that popped into her head when she first felt their coldness against her skin.

That idea paired with the promise of what they're trying to accomplish in their uncoordinated attempt to get the rest of their clothes off makes her want to press her thighs together. Her hands abandon the task of undoing his shorts for the sake of ridding herself of the last layer that separates her from him.

Her most embarrassing old pair of brightly colored panties, courtesy of past Y/N's questionable decision to trust her mom to buy some on her behalf, are hardly a sight to behold. They're the kind that come in a value pack from Walmart, vibrant blue with the word, "Tuesday," printed on the front of them, and she could hide her face into the rug in shame if she weren't so determined to get them off. Of all the days to wear the day of the week undies her mom accidentally got her, of course she chose today.

By the time she reaches for the waistband, he has pushed his shorts and underwear down his thighs and comes back to her with just as much excitement as he left with, but when he helps her tug her panties down her legs, he laughs. Apparently, he had also been too eager to touch her to notice what was written on them before.

"Cute," he breathes out through a laugh, then adds as the cotton fabric slips over her knees, "Pretty sure it's not Tuesday though."

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

He cuts her off, "Whatever you wanna threaten me with won't work, chances are I'm gonna be into it."

Her eyes are alight with a certain fire he's had yet to fully lure out of her. Even her voice is slightly more airy and seductive as a result of it.

"Promise?"

JJ grins down at her as he finally tosses her panties aside with the rest of their clothes, "Cross my heart, pretty girl."

His hands grip her thighs and tug her down the  rug to him with a quick jolt that snaps them out of the playful nature of their back and forth teasing. No matter how lighthearted of an interruption it was, the mini-conversation might as well have never existed for how easily they fall back into it again.

She watches with her forehead pressed against his as he strokes himself a few times, then drags his tip, messy with precome, through her wet heat. And though she watches it happen, her body still arches into his when he lines up with her and sinks his hips forward.

She anticipated it, but she still gasps and digs her nails into his biceps at the sensation of him pushing into her. Neither of them bothers to worry about the obvious lack of a condom—it was discussed the first time around when he offered and she told him it was okay. He's often the one to silence the alarm on her phone warning her in its title to, "Take your birth control or else, bitch," while she searches her bag for it anyway, so he trusts her.

Both of them prefer it this way enough to risk the  minuscule failure rate of the pill anyway. It's more intimate, closer, and they can both feel the warmth of each other in a way that would've been somewhat muted with an added layer between them. It makes the feeling of him entering her all the more gratifying as she tenses up around him in reaction, drawing a groan from where his parted lips brush against hers.

She lifts her head off of the floor as much as she can to capture his mouth with her own and stifle the sonorous sound despite the storm doing a better job of it.

It seems that every blast of wind and roll of thunder is in their favor tonight, so much so that he isn't even worried about getting walked in on. It's not a thought in his head at this point, the only thought he's capable of having is this. Forgive him for being shortsighted, but he doesn't give a shit if John B notices or hears what's happening when he's buried inside of her so deeply.

His hips are flush with the backs of her thighs in a matter of seconds, and right when he pauses to give her a breather, he feels her shake her head ever so slightly against where their faces are pressed together.

The touch of her hands on his hips is not timid by any means, it's commanding. Her palm prints singe an indelible claim into the surface of his skin as she guides him to start moving without a second spared to dwindle the discomfort of him filling her up. It's less like a pain and more of a pressure blooming from the insistent presence of him, not so overwhelming that it's painful, but it's an effort to breathe evenly and the only thing that'll ease this transitional moment is to continue.

At first, their bodies start to rock together lazily as though on autopilot. They'd hardly be conscious of the fact that they're doing anything if not for the initial sensations of heady ecstasy that flash like the sparks of a lighter in response to their movements. As soon as he felt her hands coax him into action, he sighed happily and surrendered himself to the instinct of wanting to move.

The merging of their bodies is less of the aggressive rutting motions they'll surely succumb to once their current pace is no longer satisfying, but that doesn't make it any less intense. She's partly sure that this is one of the most vulnerable moments either of them has ever had when it comes to sex, and it wouldn't work if it weren't them together. No other person could consume her the way he does, taking up every unoccupied space of her soul until there's nothing left but the silent begging of her heart for him.

Their kiss is messy when it breaks to allow them the chance to suck down a couple breaths of air, saliva shining on his lips in between the seconds it takes them to come crashing back together.

It's loving enough to rot her teeth with its sweetness, a slow but impossibly deep grinding of their hips together that continually presses the tip of him into that sweet spot inside of her, but it takes a turn.

Not only do her hands shift from his hips up to the sides of his waist to get a firmer hold on him, the kiss starts to become vigorous, almost hungry, in search of something more. The dreamlike sequence of the first moment or so they spent slowly fucking under the warm hues of candlelight starts to unravel to reveal the baser instincts that guide them forward.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispers the praise into her mouth.

As soon as the words are said, he can feel the effect it has on her. The hands braced on his waist pull his body closer to her at the same moment that she involuntarily squeezes down around him, making the smooth drag of his cock against the velvet-soft heat of her walls even tighter than he thought possible.

The sudden feeling of it makes his first returning thrust much harder than the last. He jerks forward into her with none of the restraint he's retained for the past few moments, and her reaction is nothing short of perfection, at least from his perspective. He watches her throw her head back in a moan, hips bucking to him in pursuit of more, and feels the tips of her fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into the unmarred skin along his waist.

"JJ!" she gasps in surprise, and if her initial reaction weren't enough to spur him on in a frenzied state of desire, this is.

He almost forgot how intense it had been the first time. Their confessions of love preceding this made them both somewhat softer and sweeter in their approach when they started, but he knows how she likes it.

Nobody would expect it from her. He's another story entirely, especially considering how much John B and Pope know about him, but her? He didn't have any in depth conversations about it with either of them, so none of their friends know how dirty she is.

But when you start to tease it out of her, she's got a side to her that makes his blood run hot. Considering how polite she is, he sure as hell didn't see it coming. For fuck's sake, she's the kind of person who'll apologize to a chair if she bumps into it. With that in mind he never thought she'd be the type to demand such things of him.

Just like that, with one moan of his name, it's like she flipped a switch in him that they forgot was there in the first place. It'll never stop surprising him how little it takes to get him going when he's with her, and he doesn't see that changing no matter how long they spend together in the future. Just a touch from her is all it takes, so it's needless to say that the sound of her calling out his name was more than enough.

Those slow, deep movements he made to sink into her again and again have turned rapid and rough, but still controlled enough to have a semblance of precision to them, hitting in all the right places.

"I bet," JJ speaks lowly, "that you want John B to walk out and see us right now."

She doesn't want to admit how much of an instantaneous effect those words have on her, but the feeling of her clenching around him as she bites back a moan completely betrays her. Partly, she worries that he'll take that the wrong way and think it has something to do with John B when it has nothing to do with him at all, but he doesn't. For the spare second of thought she's allowed to have before her mind goes hazy again, she notes how much more eager he is on the upstroke of the next thrust.

Noticing how right he was in his assumption about her liking the risk of getting caught jumpstarts his heart and makes everything he does rougher. She can sense that he's starting to lose control over himself and is acting on instinct alone.

It makes her much more sensitive to everything he does, and all she can do is cling to him and enjoy it as she takes in everything he says and does. It's hard to pick one thing to focus on between the switch up in pace and what he said.

"You want John B to know you like getting fucked like a slut, don't you?"

She could get off on the sound of his voice alone. Hearing him say stuff like that kills her, it makes the swirling bliss that builds in the pit of her abdomen with every thrust he gives her triple in its extremity.

Her legs are tightly wound around his hips to keep him as near to her as possible, her hands sliding up around his waist to keep a steady grasp on him while he pounds into her. The rug scratches at her back enough to make it sting alongside the immense pleasure building in her, but she doesn't care. When blended with the good sensations, the pain underscores the addictive feeling of him inside of her, fucking her exactly how she asked him too.

Looking up at him when he's like this is simply unreal. There's no other way of describing it in her eyes except for that. He's so stunning, she's inclined to believe that he isn't even real as a means of explaining it. This shouldn't be real. It should be one of her daydreams while she steals covert stares at him as they hang out with the Pogues, but it isn't. She can't wrap her head around it.

Those strands of hair that were damp from the rain are mostly dry as they fall into his eyes with the force of his movements. The sight of him alone, set aside from the rest of it, is enough to make her writhe beneath him and claw at his back in tandem with another thrust that sends her jolting against the rug.

He takes one of his hands up from where they both held her hips for leverage to weave his fingers into the roots of her hair.

He demands between the panting breaths and moans that flood the limited space between them, tugging on her hair, "Answer me."

She instantly blurts out the words, "I want him to see us." The feeling of him tilting her head back by the fistful of hair he has wrapped up in his hand is her persistent reminder to concentrate enough to continue, and she bites down on her lip to contain a moan before speaking again, "I want him to know..."

Her cheeks burn with the mere thought of it, let alone saying it out loud. He's the only person she'd ever let in on this intimate side of her, the side that makes her crazy when she hears him say stuff like this. The reason she feels so comfortable doing this with him is that she knows he understands her. It's as if he can read her mind without even having to try, knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

It wouldn't matter if the topic of their exhibitionism were any other Pogue or a stranger, it isn't about who it is, it's about the thrill attached to the concept of almost getting seen during such a heated moment. In all actuality, John B is probably snoring face down into his pillow right now with no care for what's happening out here, but he knows what it does to her when they push the boundaries of decency this way. It's the same rush he gets from stealing random, useless things every so often, it's the thrill of getting away with something.

The hand tangled up in the roots of her hair sneaks down between their colliding bodies to rub her clit, and her mouth drops open to take in a shaky breath.

The sight of her beneath him is undoing in and of itself. Head tilted enough to expose her neck to him, chest rising and falling rapidly with her breaths, and breasts bouncing gently with the momentum of their actions—seeing her this way makes his thrusts ramp up into more of a frenzied, uncontainable pace rather than one with the same control and cadence as before. But it's mostly the eye contact that kills him. She doesn't dare to shut her eyes the entire time, as if she can sense that he'll tell her to look at him again the second she does.

"You want him to know what?" he asks, and she knows he won't let her get away with not saying it.

She whines, utterly helpless to the climax starting to build inside of her, "Please."

What she's pleading for, she isn't quite sure, but he can tell by how she's acting that she's starting to get closer, and he wants nothing more than to tease her with the impending chance of her orgasm.

"If you wanna come, you're gonna have to do a lot better than that."

Just like that, he withdraws his hand from between them and leaves her desperate, blindly grasping for the peak she was so close to reaching, she could almost feel it already.

With JJ rocking into her at a relaxed, slower rhythm, the pleasure hasn't disappeared completely. It's there, but she can sense the feeling of her orgasm receding as quickly as it had creeped up on her as soon as he slips his hand out from between them.

It's instantly clear to him how desperate she is as all of her previous shyness surrounding having to admit this to him out loud withers away in seconds. She isn't beneath begging again at this point. He could tell her to crawl across the floor to him and she'd happily do it for the chance of touching him. It's pathetic but true. As much as she has him wrapped around her finger, he has done the same to her and she isn't afraid to admit it anymore.

Her hips jerk toward him in search of the familiar frenzy they were in before that sent her to the brink of climax, but he is impressively stubborn. Despite the fact that it physically pains him to dial it back again, he tries to keep the signs of his own frustration at bay. She knew what she had to say to get what she wants, so he'll only cave when she does.

This time around, she doesn't give a fuck about how badly she blushes or the voice in the back of her mind telling her she should keep this side of her to herself. This time, the one thing she needs to do to prompt her to open her mouth and speak the dirty words he asked her less than a moment ago is look at him. One second of staring up at him and here she is, driven mad enough to say or do anything to get him to pick up where they left off.

She says between the soft noises and breaths coming from them both, clinging to him through every slow but deep thrust that sends sparks ricocheting through her body, "I want John B to know I like getting fucked like slut." Her voice is breathless, and he hangs off of each word as she pauses, looking up at him with a challenging attitude swirling in those pretty eyes. "So stop being a tease and fuck me like one."

His jaw clenches at the bratty statement, one he's too far gone to resist at this point, and right when he's about to respond to her, she speaks again.

"Either that," she says, and a deceptively sweet smile crosses her kiss-swollen lips, "or I can go ask him to—"

She doesn't even get the chance to voice the rest of that thought before he's set into motion.

The hands on her hips flip her over with such casual strength, all she can do is yelp in surprise at the sudden movement that blurs the living room in her peripheral version until she lands with her hands and knees pressing into the rug. He was so swift in pulling out of her and tossing her onto her front like she was nothing more than a rag doll, she hardly had the time to take a breath before she ended up here.

There's hardly any time between when he pulled out to flip her over and when he returns to her again, but it feels like an eternity for them. The few second transition might as well be a few years as she feels his hands guiding her body where he wants it, pushing down on her back until it arches just so, and falls down onto her arms. But as soon as she gets situated, she feels a pair of hands yanking her arms away from where they were braced against the floor and put them behind her back.

It's only then, when he has an unflinching grasp on where he keeps her wrists behind her back with one of his hands, that she is met with the relief of him sinking into her again.

Y/N's jaw goes slack, and she cries out into the rug that her cheek is pressed into as he gives her no chance to adjust or catch her breath before resuming the brutal pace they kept a moment ago. Mentioning anyone else but him doing this to her was the quickest way to get him to snap, so it's safe to say that she's getting what she wanted. After all, she did what he asked, it's fair that she gets rewarded for it.

Amidst the sounds of the storm waging war on the landscape outside of the house, the one thing she can hear over the buzzing pleasure that drowns out her senses is the sinful blend of sounds they create together. It's the sound of their bodies merging, his name falling from her lips, and the curses he makes under his breath that never fail to drive her a little wild.

The hand that isn't holding her arms behind her slides down the length of her curved back until it wraps around her throat to pin her down, and her reaction is everything he could ask for. Seeing her rock back against him to meet him halfway makes his grip on her wrists tighten enough to turn his knuckles white.

Her hair is spread in endless directions in a fan around her head, and he can only see one side of her face from where he kneels behind her, but that glimpse is more than enough. Brows scrunched in pleasure, mouth dropped open in a gape as soft 'uh's and 'ah's escape her on the upstroke of each thrust—she's a mess right now. A beautiful, perfect mess.

"Oh God, JJ," she moans between her rapid breaths and the strong hand constricting her neck, "I'm so close. Please, just let me come."

It took virtually nothing for her to be pushed right back to the edge of the peak she was at less than a minute ago. It took a mere half-minute of this and she's once again reduced to incoherent pleas for more and shaking with no control over herself. Her legs tremble with the effort to keep herself up in this position, and she isn't even the one doing most of the work. In all fairness, this change in position has made the intensity triple. It's deeper this way, and with how harshly he slams into her, it's as though she can feel it in the base of her abdomen.

It's the enjoyable type of pain, however, not the bad type. It'll surely end up with her being sore tomorrow, but she can't hide how much she loves the painful pleasure of how rough it's getting. Being denied an orgasm when she was so, so close to it was initially disappointing too, but it was worth it. If the build up to what would've been her climax before was a spark, this is a flourishing fire spreading through her with no chance of smothering the flames.

He lets go of her throat and taps the side of her jaw in a silent request that she picks up immediately, letting her lips fall open to suck his fingers into her mouth without a second of hesitation.

The taste of her arousal on them is faint, but still there, and it occurs to her that she thought about this earlier before things evolved into chaos. Her tongue swirls around the tips of his fingers as he starts to pull them away in what feels like the blink of an eye to her, leaving him to remember what it felt like when her lips were once wrapped around a more sensitive part of him a week and a half ago.

The one other time he let himself remember it was when they were on the boat with the Pogues, yet that wasn't really of his own volition. It was hot out, so Kiara bought ice pops for them and his mind wandered far from where it should've stayed.

Shining with her saliva, his fingers are pulled from her lips with a soft 'pop' in pursuit of that sensitive collection of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She just needs is a little push to go over the edge, and when he slips his hand down her body to rub tight circles onto her clit, she loses whatever remnants of control over herself she had left.

The steady rhythm of her hips moving back against him falters as she is overwhelmed with the separate sensations culminating into one and giving her the push she needs to come. Her entire body tenses up in anticipation, and since she's pinned to the floor with her hands behind her back, she can only lay there and savor the feeling as it hits her.

After what felt like ages of having it build and build within her, then having it taken away to start the process over again, finally being given a release is a relief beyond any she's felt before.

It's so consuming, it takes away her ability to think of anything outside of how it feels to dissolve into the shockwaves of euphoria rushing through her. Every pulsing wave is prolonged by him, not even through the peak of it does he let up on his precise touches and unforgiving thrusts into her that turn a typical orgasm into the most intense thing she's ever felt.

She's melting in his arms through it all, and as if the change in position didn't make it worse, her involuntary spasms leave him hanging on by a thread.

JJ collapses onto her, barely having the chance to keep himself propped up on his arms as he lets go of her wrists and falls forward onto her sweat-slick back.

The heat of his panting exhales raises goosebumps in its wake where his face is buried into the curve of her neck, and he whines at the impossibly tight feeling of her squeezing around his cock through the end of her climax. Those sounds he doesn't realize he's making have her writhing through the aftershocks, answering with a sound of her own that almost makes him come instantly.

For that reason, he makes the decision to pull out and flip her onto her back.

At this point, she's so dazed and fucked out that she doesn't register any of it until she notices the hollow absence of him inside of her, but it doesn't matter when his face appears through the partial darkness above her.

Despite how sensitive she is right now, the sight of him makes her hands reach out blindly to pull him closer again. They're frantic in their need to get back to one another, grasping and clawing until he finds his way back to her in less than a second, hiking her legs up around his waist with a touch that is somehow demanding and tender at the same time.

It's only when he's inside of her again that it occurs to her why he rolled her onto her back again, and it makes her want to kiss him until her lips turn numb. It may be undeniably hotter to pin someone down and fuck them hoarse, but, no, that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be able to look at her, to see her face, and the thought of that has her biting back a sudden confession of love. She isn't sure why she doesn't say it right away, since it isn't like they haven't already done it, but she keeps it to herself for a second first.

It's different now. It's not less passionate or frenetic. It isn't as if he isn't being as rough with her as he was before, but they can both sense a shift in the energy between them as soon as he reenters her. It's less about the pursuit of pleasure and more about the feelings they've kept hidden away for so long. It's a simultaneous realization that hits them a little late after they initially confessed their feelings for each other: this is reality. It's real, and when she touches him this time, he isn't going to disappear if she opens her eyes.

The realization of what happened tonight had yet to hit them until right this second, but now that it has, they move forward with a sense of sentimentality that remained partly dormant before.

If there's anything JJ dislikes, it's being vulnerable. The idea of letting someone in to see every part of him, including the parts he doesn't want to see of himself, has always terrified him after years of being made to believe he's undeserving, yet he isn't uncomfortable right now. Somehow, he feels safe with her. Sex has never been something so emotional for him until now, until her, and he doesn't want it differently.

Their bodies are drawn in close, her arms thrown around his neck, and he's so close, he can feel the muscles leading down past his lower abdomen contract with the inevitable approach of his orgasm. She can sense it too in how he acts.

When he gets close, he becomes clingier and lets his feelings get the better of him. His hands squeeze at her hips, sliding up her sides and back down to hike one of her legs up high around his waist to press deeper into her. He can't bear to allow his touch to stay in one place for too long before exploring another part of her, wanting to memorize the delicate intricacies of her body in its entirety.

It's as if she can read his mind too, cause even when she's sensitive enough to gasp when he pushes her thigh to her chest and throws his remaining energy into fucking her at a satisfying pace, she understands what he needs. She knows to reach up and run her fingers through his hair, to tug on it gently until the light strands are taut from his scalp. She knows to lift her head off of the floor enough to trail tender kisses along his face, his jaw, his neck—anywhere she can access.

"Come for me," she says into a kiss placed on the edge of his cheekbone, reeling in overstimulation as she jolts with his quickening thrusts, "I want to watch you..."

Hearing those words, paired with the kisses and fingers pulling on his hair, does it for him. It doesn't take more for his hips to falter and jerk forward into her a final few times before he comes.

Their foreheads press together as they cling to one another for stability, though it's mostly JJ clinging to her while she watches in adoration, and she has to bite her lip to contain a moan at how it feels. The aftershocks of her orgasm have yet to fade as the feeling of pulsing warmth inside of her makes them stronger, reigniting the fire she felt a moment ago if only for a second.

There's a closeness to this situation that they hadn't felt the last time, and they know it has everything to do with what was said before this happened. The sex itself feels like a dream sequence in her mind now that she's coming down from it with him, moving together slowly and gently beneath the candlelight until they ride out the ends of their highs. It was like they were put under a trance by each other, and now that it's over, the first thoughts that come to mind are of what comes next.

It's not the sole topic on their minds though. They're more focused on catching their breath from where they lay, tangled up together, on the living room floor. As soon as the very last of his orgasm faded from him, he fell onto her without a single ounce of energy left to spare. He's careful not to crush her, but, for the most part, he relaxes on top of her and lets his head rest on her heaving chest.

Strong arms slip down to loop around her waist, and she sure that she couldn't get him to release her if she wanted to, which she doesn't.

But they can't stay like this, not for any longer than a few moments anyway, since they don't know how if John B might wake up and come out of the safety of his bedroom after hours of leaving them to their own devices. JJ was right. He's out cold, but for as much as it turned them on in the heat of the moment, neither of them finds getting caught by him as hot with the clarity of their rational minds coming back to them.

He's the one to break the silence.

"As much as I wanna stay like this, we should probably move in case John B wakes up."

The sound of his voice settles in her with the effects of a sedative. It calms her more than anything else could, especially with the added comfort of him cuddling her so closely. One of her hands strokes through his hair and pushes the damp tendrils of sunshine away from his face as he cranes his neck to look up at her. And, for fuck's sake, what else is she to do except admire him?

His cheeks are dusted pink in a way they often are when he spends too much time outside without one of his hats shielding his face, and she thinks he's never looked better.

Ever since they became friends, she's had this theory about him. In the unrealistic landscape of her overactive imagination, JJ didn't come to this world the way the rest of them did. To her, it seems impossible that someone so good, even in his worst moments, could've come from someone like his dad.

So, in idle moments where she would watch him on a day out with the Pogues or daydream about him, she decided that he's the sun.

She imagines he was created in those breathtaking but brief moments where the sun meets the horizon atop the ocean and washes the sky with a vast array of colors. She likes to think he's the incarnation of it. Golden, warm, and bright for everyone but himself, he keeps the world light for her and their friends without intending to.

Some days are warmer than others too. Some days, the light is dimmed by another bruise beneath his clothes or a bad run-in with some kooks, but today is not like that. This moment is eighty-five and sunny with a balmy breeze. Looking at him right now feels like basking in the sun, and she'd burn here forever if he let her.

Without realizing she zoned out, she jolts when he pinches her arm to rouse her from her ridiculous thoughts. He has this dopey half-smile on his face that nearly draws her back into them again.

"You know what they say," he says, "if you take a picture..."

Her soft laughter invades the room, filling his heart with this light, fluttery feeling that always finds him when she's near. His smile grows as she playfully shoves him and reaches above their heads for her wet shirt to cover up with just in case. Odds are, their friend isn't waking up at the exact moment before they seclude themselves to the spare room and get dressed, but she doesn't wanna take that chance.

"I wasn't staring."

She was totally staring. But who could blame her? When someone looks at a person the way he looks at her, how could they ever stay away?

"Whatever you say."

JJ keeps smiling to himself while he pulls his underwear and shorts up his legs and waits for her to be decent enough to sneak past John B's bedroom to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

The clothes are soaked through with rainwater, so they feel quite uncomfortable to slip back on, but they merely redress enough to be covered. She stole his shirt to avoid putting her shorts back on, the hem of the grey tee hanging right at the tops of her thighs when she walks. As soon as she slips her panties back on and picks up the rest of their cold, wet clothes, that's the cue he needs to scoop her up and take her away.

Y/N curses under her breath in surprise at feeling her feet being plucked off the ground, but she relaxes again once she's settled in his arms, realizing that it was just him who snuck up behind her and lifted her into his arms.

She doesn't say anything on the way to the bathroom. Instead, she lays her head on his shoulder in exhaustion and finds herself staring at the mark she left behind on his neck.

It's a deep, purplish red against the backdrop of his tan skin...the Pogues will surely notice the next time they see him. And while it will make her blush, it won't make her scared as it once would've. There may be a lingering sense of doubt and insecurity within her, but she wants this with him. Even if it means being teased by their friends or dealing with the jealousy of watching kook girls and tourons at parties hit on him, she wants this.

By the time the shower is spraying the rainwater from her hair and washing her clean of sweat sticking to her skin, she realizes that he isn't saying anything either, but she doesn't think it's out of any awkwardness or miscommunication. There's truly nothing to say, at least for now.

Though they didn't have the chance to talk in depth about everything yet, neither of them thinks of that right now. All they know is that they're together, whether it be officially or not, and it feels good. For once, something in his life feels right, and he lets himself enjoy it in silence.

The shower is a cramped space when shared between them and the wet clothes they have draped over the back edge of the tub, but they make it work. It's not like they mind anyway.

They bump into one another whenever they do so much as breathe, and the white walls echo the sounds of her giggling when he tries to tickle her. She leans her head back against his chest and lets out a laugh with shampoo dripping down the front of her face, and he'll be damned if he ever heard a sound as intoxicating as that.

It's a little weird. He's never been as soft and loving with a person before, and he has already felt overwhelmed in the lulls of quiet between them when he's given the chance to think about it.

When she washes his hair for him, insisting that she must return the favor after he so kindly washed hers, he was struck with the same mixture of wanting to simultaneously lean into and pull away from her that he felt the night of the party.

The warmth of the water loosens his sore muscles, washing suds of the green apple scented shampoo over his shoulders and down, down, down until it circles the drain beside his feet. All the while, her fingertips are delicately tracing over a healing bruise on his torso. Those pretty lips of hers are painted in a suppressed frown that she can't hide from him.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

His instant reaction is to fake a smile, to brush it off and distract her as he usually does, yet he doesn't. He forces himself to remain neutral and not push her away.

"Happens all the time," he murmurs, shrugging and averting his eyes to reach for the soap off on the ledge.

The hands holding either side of his waist tighten as he tries to turn, pulling him back to her with more strength than he knew to anticipate from her. Their chests gently collide back together beneath the stream of water, and she can feel his breathing catch for a second or so in response.

The fact that their relationship has changed doesn't change how she handles this aspect of his life. Their new confessions don't have an impact on the part of his life he never wants to let anyone see, so she isn't going to force him to talk about it because they're trying out this whole relationship thing now. He has hard boundaries that she knows not to push sometimes. That's the way it is, and it might change as they grow closer but she knows to accept it for the moment.

As soon as he hears what she has to say next, he could crumble in relief at the realization that their new dynamic doesn't change anything.

"I didn't necessarily mean...that...I meant generally, you know? It's just that—" she sighs, "you shrink away a little when I hold you, and I wondered if I was making you uncomfortable."

Before she could finish the sentence, JJ was already thinking of what to say to prove her wrong, because that's not it. That's not what it is, and if she thinks she's done anything wrong, he'll do anything to convince her otherwise because it isn't her. It's him.

It's his dad lingering in the darker trenches of his mind, commanding his fear and attention so that even when he isn't physically present, he's still here. Part of why he denied wanting her was because he knew these types of things would arise in the beginning, that there would be difficult adjustments to make and conversations to be had, and he didn't want her to leave him as soon as she was faced with one of these things.

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

The feeing of her chest rising and falling with his begins to steady him after a moment of allowing the initial hesitation to dissolve. His internal reaction to her touch is the mental incarnation of a flinch. It's him waiting for the other shoe to drop and expecting her to do something, to hurt him, before his mind catches up with his heart. But once he realizes everything's okay, he loves it.

"It's kinda embarrassing, but I guess when you touch me, I'm expecting something else," he says softly, scared that if he speaks too loudly, everyone in the world will know how weak he feels.

She should've figured, but hearing him say it is different than wondering what the reasoning behind it is. Hearing him admit it after months of strict avoidance on the topic is a sucker punch to the gut.

Both times they had sex, he was too distracted and thoughtless to get caught up in that part of himself, but it's when the bliss of the afterglow disappears that it creeps back in. That's why he could always handle touch when it came in that context. It was his way of obtaining what he wanted without having to face this side of it—a temporary fix to a greater web of issues.

But there's nothing temporary about her. He doesn't want her to leave him, not without him resisting the urge to beg her on his knees to stay and at least remain his friend, so there's no choice but to face these momentary challenges head on.

She pauses for a second, thinking, then says, "You don't have to be embarrassed about it, I get it. We'll just have to take it day by day then. We can take it slow, and you'll let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?"

It's hard not to be shocked by how well she's taking it. A lot of people probably wouldn't feel too great after someone they love tells them they expect to be hit whenever they touch them, yet she's taking it in stride.

Things are back to normal as soon as she sees the grin on his face.

"So, you're saying you're gonna be trying not to throw yourself at me all the time?" JJ asks, then clicks his tongue as though in thought. "I give you a week. Tops."

Her eyes go wide as she looks at him. She holds her hand over her heart as she pretends to be scandalized by such an accusation, but they know it's true. They both can't keep their hands off of one another, which is why it confuses him. How can he want to reject and enjoy her touch at the same time? Sure, the discomfort disappears after the first split-second, but the fact that it happens in the first place annoys him to no end.

She rolls her eyes and tries to hide the fact that she's giggling as she reaches for the soap.

"You're a little shit, you know that?"

He doesn't miss a beat, saying back, "Yeah but I'm your little shit, so I feel like that says more about you than it does me."

While he's too busy rinsing the rest of the shampoo out of his hair, she smiles to herself at what he said.

Hers.

Nobody has ever been hers before, or proclaimed themselves as belonging to her as proudly and casually as he just did, and her heart melts over the sweet sentiment he didn't think twice about.

Less than a day ago, she was agonizing over her relationship with him and trying to ignore how powerful those feelings for him were, and now they're here. She no longer has to steal glances when he looks away or hide how jealous she feels when other girls flirt with him. To finally let the tension disappear is an immense weight off of her shoulders.

The rest of the shower is as quiet as the start of it was, and that comfortable silence continues through from when they're drying off and redressing to when they hit the mattress in the spare bedroom with tired sighs.

After the day they had, the mere suggestion of sleep is enough to make them start yawning, so being able to slip beneath the sheets and rest their heads almost sings her to sleep instantly.

Their bodies are laying in the exact outlines of where they laid the night of the party, the only difference this time being their mindsets. This time around, they aren't holding themselves back from anything, and it's most evident in the little things. Like how she doesn't turn around to shield her face from him, instead laying with her head propped on the other end of his favorite pillow.

They're so close, their noses brush if they make any slight movements, and this would be enough for him to submit to the urge to drift into sleep if not for the fact that he feels her jolt when thunder rumbles loudly outside of the window.

Much like his own fears being pushed to the side amidst their desire for each other, her anxiety about the storm wasn't on her mind until they laid down to sleep.

She was so wrapped up in him and everything that happened between them that she didn't have the time to think again until now, until she hears the violent patter of rain against the roof and feels her stomach drop at the sound of the thunder. Suddenly, she's not the one reassuring him about his fearful reactions, it's the other way around.

His warm hand takes hers, snatching it up as though he's worried it'll disappear if he doesn't take it quickly enough, and she lets him. Her eyes flutter shut with the release of a slow, deep breath, and she lets the presence of his hand in hers bring her back to earth.

JJ asks into the darkness, "Can I take you out on a real date?" After a beat of silence, the comforting sound of his voice returns to her. "Not that this isn't fun, but I think you deserve a little more effort than John B's living room floor."

A short-lived chuckle escapes her—a win as far as he's concerned. It's difficult to lure her head from the clouds when she gets this way, and it isn't like he has much experience with calming her during these moments either, but that sounded good to him. It sounded like she wasn't thinking about the increased pace of her heart or the howling wind outside.

He was planning on asking anyway. However fitting of a first night together this was, he wants to take her out for real sometime soon. He doesn't have much money for it, like at all, but they can come up with something special together, even if it's similar to the same shit they usually do together. As long as it's time alone together, they don't necessarily care if it's a perfectly traditional first date.

The tip of his thumb rubs comforting circles onto the back of her hand in the brief time it takes her to respond, stroking the soft skin as if to tell her that everything's okay. It seems to say, I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you. And it might make her crazy, but she believes him. JJ could take her back out into the eye of the hurricane at this very moment and she'd still believe his unspoken promise of not letting her into harm's way.

"Of course," she says, then pauses, and the sound of her sleepy voice hardly reaches his ears when she speaks again, "...I'm sorry I avoided you for the past few days. I was scared to tell you how I felt but I shouldn't have left that morning."

The memory of waking up in his arms is fresh in the forefront of her mind, so much so that she can remember the way his breath felt where it exhaled in warm puffs onto her skin.

In the first few moments of consciousness, it was peaceful.

She laid awake for a minute or two to count his breaths and soak in the comfort of being cuddled up next to him, wishing she could stay there for hours. It wasn't until another moment passed that it clicked with her where she was and what was going on between them recently, and that was what prompted her to slip away from the bed to get ready for her day at work.

It was the second time in a row that she left him in that bed with nothing to wake up to but the cold absence of her body between the sheets he slept under, and he can't deny that it's part of why he holds onto her hand so tightly tonight. Even though she's promised him otherwise, he can't help but think she'll be gone by the time he wakes up. At this point, he's struggling to stay conscious. She can see those pretty eyes drooping more and more by the second, yet the hand holding hers doesn't loosen its grip.

He takes a deep breath and scoots closer to her, keeping his one hand in hers while the other arm drapes itself over her waist, and he can feel her relax into the touch.

"It's okay," he says.

It's easier for him to adjust to so much physical contact when he's the one initiating. He knows that's why she only reached out to hold his hand. If she had it her way, she would've already been cuddling with him as soon as they laid down, but he likes that she gives him the space to initiate it. In the ways it counts the most, she cares about him more than anyone else has.

The touch in itself is his way of accepting her apology. However, truth be told, he already forgave her for it before knowing his love was reciprocated could be a possibility.

Right when she's about to fall asleep, the screen door slamming open and shut with the wind on the back porch makes her whip her head around to look over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. It seems like every time he successfully distracts her from it, the storm finds new ways of reminding her of what's happening outside of the safety of the Chateau.

There's the sound of a barely audible, sharp inhale, then her whispering into the dark room as she looks at the closed door, "I can't believe I went out into that. What the fuck was I thinking?"

It's beginning to close in on her again; the sounds of the storm, the sense of being trapped no matter how safe they truly are, and the rising tidal wave of anxiety that picks up speed the more she tries to will it to stop. This is the part where she tries to relieve it in some way, usually by smoking weed to sleep or going to one of her parents so they can help her through it, but she can't help herself right now.

Debris was being picked and tossed around in the wind like it weighed nothing when she was out there, she could've been knocked into the marsh or struck by a piece of debris.

How could she be so stupid?

Not only could she have hurt herself, she could've hurt JJ knowing that he'd likely follow her out into the storm to bring her back inside, and the thought of him being hurt makes the tension in her chest heavier. Her breathing picks up speed, the anxiety starting to snowball out of control when—

"Hey, look at me," JJ says, reaching up to turn her head to face him, and she damn near crumbles in relief at feeling his hand cup her cheek. It doesn't make it all disappear, but it provides a momentary comfort that she doesn't take for granted. "You're safe here. You know damn well I'll do anything to protect you. I mean, shit, dude, if I have to go out there and tell that rain to fuck off, I will."

This draws out a laugh from her, chest stuttering with the happy sound through the tears glistening in her eyes, and he never wants to stop hearing it. His thumb swipes away the first teardrop that falls before it can slip over the apples of her cheeks. I'm Her quiet cries and shaky breaths continue for a while after the laughter disappears. For a second or two, he watches with his thumb still wiping her tears away and hopes that it'll be enough to comfort her, but it can't do it completely.

He pulls away from her to get up from the bed with an idea popping into his mind, but upon hearing her whine at the loss of contact with him, he pauses to say, "I'll be back quick, don't worry."

The remaining humorous side of her left wonders if he's actually gonna go tell the rain to fuck off, but he's just opening the bedroom door to trot out into the living room.

A candle burning on the coffee table illuminates the space for him, guiding him straight to the forgotten backpack she left slumped against the arm of the couch hours before their relationship was changed for the better. It takes him an instant to get there and back with the bag in hand, and he's digging through it for a second before climbing back into bed with her.

If anyone else rifled through her bag, sifted through her personal belongings, and dug her phone out of it, she'd probably be annoyed, but she never is with him. She's inherently protective of her things, but JJ can do whatever he wants and it has always been that way. It should've been the first warning of what was to come.

He pulls the sheet back over his body and scoots up close to her, trying to resist the urge to retreat at first when he maneuvers her to lay with her head on his shoulder. It should trigger the flight or fight response that often alarms in his head, but he's able to push it away.

She's so vulnerable right now, so gentle and in need of the warmth of another person that he isn't as intimidated. It's not that she couldn't hurt him if she wanted to right now, she could, but he knows her. He knows that the last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt him, so he has to remind himself of that and give himself the permission to enjoy the physical intimacy of her touch. The part of him that questions if he even deserves it can't reach him now, not when he's so focused on her.

"Thumb?" he asks with the phone held out expectantly.

The screen is less than two inches from her face, so she has to push it back slightly, but she flattens her thumb to the button without further hesitation.

When he unwraps the pair of headphones from around the palm of his hand and plugs them into the charging port, she realizes why he left in the first place.

When she was facing away from him, eyes shut and headphones in to distract herself with music earlier, he was stealing glances at her every so often. He tried to keep away from her for the most part. It was difficult though, especially knowing what she said about being jealous the night of the party and knowing how scared she was of the hurricane. He couldn't help but keep an eye on her, for both his own selfish needs and his worry for her.

He keeps an arm tucked around her, pressing her body into his while he pops one of the headphones into her ear and the other into his. The thing is, her eyes aren't trained on the screen like his are once he starts looking through her vast collection of not-so-legally acquired music for a song that suits both of their tastes, they're trained on him.

Their taste in music tends to diverge in certain ways and overlap in others, so there's always a fifty/fifty shot of him liking what she plays when she's the one picking the music. That is why he smiles to himself and halts the endless scrolling in its tracks to hover his thumb over one song.

He obviously heard it before she played it that one time, but it's different for him now. They were riding together in the backseat of the Twinkie on the way to the beach with John B, Kie, and Pope when they let her take her turn to play a song.

That's how it is with them, the driver goes first, then it goes to the front seat passenger, and so on and so on until they make their way back to the beginning of the rotation. It was her turn when she picked this song, and it could've been the song, or the sunset shining through the window, but he felt as though his heart exploded when he looked at her in the middle of it.

He remembers feeling confused, confused as to why he couldn't catch his breath and why he suddenly adored the song he only heard casually a couple of times.

It was her. It was everything about her. The soft hum of her voice murmuring the lyrics, too shy to actually sing them in the presence of anyone else, was too delicate for the others to appreciate over the sounds of the van. He heard it though. He clung to it and admired her, so unashamed in his staring that he didn't realize he was doing it. It wasn't until she noticed that he stopped.

"Do I still have ice cream on my face or something?"

Her fingers came up to wipe at the corner over her mouth, and the action sent him turning his attention away quicker than he knew he could move, pulling the lighter out of his pocket to fiddle with as he mumbled, "Yeah, but you got it off now."

The cheery melody of Just Like Heaven bursts out of each headphone into their ears.

How did he know? How is he constantly reading her mind without realizing it?

This was her first song on the couch that she couldn't stand to sit through without thinking, naturally, of him when confronted with the topic of love. Somehow, it's like he knew that, and instead of feeling exposed and scared he'll know her feelings like before, she feels loved.

She is never skipping this song again.

"Go to sleep," he murmurs, clicking the screen off and resting it on his stomach.

It takes him a short thirty seconds to fall into an easy, calm pattern of breathing that tells her he isn't asleep, but soon will be. But she's fighting her sleepiness to continue looking at him. His eyes are fluttered shut, hair messy on the pillow, and she'd want to reach up to kiss him if he weren't trying to fall asleep.

Instead, she settles for matching her quickened breaths to the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand and shuts her eyes along with him.

By the time the song reaches its end, she thinks he's asleep, but she still whispers, "Thank you," and feels his arm squeeze around her body in response.

The next songs fade into white noise at this point for her, drowning out the storm to the point where she begins to forget it's happening out there.

Maybe they can be each other's safe place when things get rough. After all, he handled this wonderfully considering his lack of experience with her anxiety and she never pushes him on his plethora of unsorted issues, even when she wants so badly to be the one to initiate the touch.

She never makes him think she pities him, or wants to "fix" him like so many partners with savior complexes who will never try to understand how it feels often do in these situations. With each other, maybe it doesn't have to be so complicated anymore, even when they have those inevitable arguments here or there.

The last thing he does before allowing himself to be dragged under is brush his lips on her forehead in a tender kiss. And when he eventually wakes to the rising sun shining through the windows in the aftermath of the violent hurricane, she's still there.

Tag List: @jjjmaybank, @its-simply-fanfiction, @naughtydild0swaggins.

[h0neypjm]

Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion. 

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 

“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 

“I'm sorry.” 

He says it genuinely. 

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 

Inhale, exhale. 

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 

He feels infinite.

Taglist <3 

@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae​ @emrysts @inspinkyring​​

[tomboy-writer]

Prompt: Chris Evans story where your boyfriend is a cheating douche-bag. He cheats on you time and time again and you get into a bit of a depression. You confide in your best friend, Chris Evans. His consoling leads to sex, the sex soon turns into a regular thing and you get happy again. Your boyfriend sees your change and promises that he will never cheat again and that he will treat you better. You’re happy but sad at the same time because now you have to break things off with Chris. But Chris won’t have it; he says that you should stay with him and not your boyfriend. You’re not sure of which decision to make, so Chris lists off reasons why you would be better off with him.

Chris Evans x black!reader

A/N: my first Chris Evans story!! Let me know what you guys think of it.

A/N 2: I started this story a few years ago and it took me a long time to finish cause I was on a very long writing hiatus and didn't finish this until earlier this year, so some of the story goes off of what the summary says and I decided to turn this into 2 parts (could be more, depending on how long the 2nd part is). So no smut in this part, just angst and dumb jokes. This also originally wasn't going to be a black reader story, but seeing how my ACTUAL 1st Chris Evans story went pretty well (the Game On story) I decided to make it another one cause I love it.

C/W: angst, swearing, my dumb jokes, 3rd person story (it hurt my brain to write it this way, but I wanted to try something different)

“He did it again, Chris! Michael cheated on me with some big titted chick,” Y/N said as she sobbed into her best friend’s shoulder.

Chris rubbed his friend’s back, trying to calm her down. He knew how to handle situations like these since Y/N went through so many of them with her boyfriend. Chris thought her relationship with Michael was like a broken record: always repeating itself. It was good at first with the couple being so obviously in love, but that changed six months later when Michael decided that Y/N wasn’t enough and started to cheat on her with multiple women. Y/N had been given advice by Chris countless times about guys like Michael and she listened to him, she really did. But she always ended up forgiving her unfaithful boyfriend and enjoyed the makeup sex that Michael would give her after.

“He and that big titted chick can both go to hell for all I care,” Chris replied. Then he lifted his friend’s head from his shoulder and made her look directly in his eyes. “Hey hon,” he said using his ‘friendly’ nickname for Y/N. “I think it’s about time you dropped that lame ass zero and got yourself a hero.”

“Okay, Captain America,” Y/N chuckled while wiping her face.

Chris laughed too, but deep down he was really hoping that Y/N would actually consider dating him. They met seven years ago and became fast friends. But the bearded actor didn’t count on falling for Y/N a few years later when he was doing an interview for one of his new movies and Y/N was there to help support him and make sure his anxiety didn’t get the best of him. While in the middle of the interview, Chris started to feel a little fidgety, so he tugged on his ear; a sign that told Y/N that he needed her help. She was standing right behind the cameraman, so Y/N could see everything that Chris was doing. She saw the signal and started to make some weird faces for her best friend.

Y/N made Chris and the interviewer crack up that day, especially when she stood right behind the cameraman and started to bulge her eyes out at him, making him laugh as well. At that moment, Chris realized that he had found that special someone. That special someone that he wants to spend the rest of his life with and just keep forever, never let go. 

Y/N was sweet, considerate and loved Disney movies and dogs as much as he did. So he felt that she was just perfect for him. He even started to mentally kick his ass for taking so long to realize this.

The interviewer asked Chris one last question before he had to leave.

“So, Chris, is there a special lady in your life? Ya know, besides your mother and sisters,” she asked.

Chris chuckled and looked right in Y/N’s direction with a bright smile on his face. “Well, I don’t have anyone yet,” the blonde answered, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s, “but I’m looking for her.”

“Chris? Chris, did you hear me,” Y/N asked suddenly, stopping Chris from remembering the day he fell for her.

Evans shook his head no. “Sorry, I zoned out for a few seconds.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I said I would love to find a new boyfriend, but I’m still in love with Michael.” Chris rolled his eyes this time. “Don’t do that, man. I can’t help that these are my feelings for him.”

“But what are your feelings for him right now! Aren’t you sad? Pissed? Or feeling like you just wanna punch that douche-bag in the face so hard that his face caves in a little bit?”

Chris’s friend nodded her head yes and started to sob again. He felt bad for making Y/N cry; he would never want to make her tears fall from her eyes unless they were tears of joy. He grabbed Y/N and embraced her for a few minutes until she was calm again. Once was she was, Chris pulled away from Y/N enough to look her in her eyes.

“Hey, promise me that you’ll forget about that douche for at least two weeks and just try to find someone better. Okay?” Chris begged with sincerity in his eyes. 

“Okay,” I promise,” Y/N complied.

Chris kissed Y/N’s head and, after saying goodbye, left his friend’s house for the night.

           * * *

Chris returned to Y/N’s house a few weeks later. He rung the doorbell and heard a faint ‘it’s open’. Evans opened and closed the door behind him and blushed at the sight in front of him: there stood Y/N, wearing only a pair of boy shorts and an over sized t-shirt, no makeup. That’s when Chris thought, no knew, that Y/N was the most beautiful woman out there.

"Hi Chris," Y/N greeted her best friend with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Evans couldn't help the blush that crept onto his face. He also couldn't help but to imagine if he and Y/N were together and he'd come home from being on set all day long, her greeting him the same way she was now except that she'd try to pull back a little to ask him about his day. But Chris would hold his lover in a tight embrace, kiss her so lovingly, so passionately, and ask about her day instead.

Yeah, Christopher Robert [Jamal] Evans would love that.

"Hey, Y/N," Chris replied as he breathed in the embrace. "How've you been lately?"

"A little bit better; not fully okay, but I'm getting there I think," Y/N answered.

Chris shook his head in disbelief. He knew when his best friend was lying to him. "Y/N," he whispered, "I can see in your eyes that you're hurting more than letting on. You sure you're doing fine?"

Y/N's smile was quickly replaced with a small frown. "I'm doin' fine, Evans," she answered, mocking Chris's Boston accent. "And, before you ask, yes I have went on a few dates with other guys; three to be exact. First guy wouldn't shut up about his ex-wife; like I was supposed to be his therapist or something. Second guy -this gorgeous dreadhead- we connected and shit, but he too wouldn't stop talking about his ex and his table manners were terrible." You rolled your eyes before finishing your list. "Last but not least, I went on date with Mr. I-Got-Tons-of-Money-Baby. We didn't connect at all and I'm sure it was cause of his cocky attitude and the way he talked down to people -it was disgusting! " The dateless woman flounced into her big living room and plopped down onto her L-shaped sofa. "Trying to find a new man is pointless, Chris. Either I start dating women cause why the fuck not!? Or I just give up on love all together."

Chris chuckled but then nervously cleared his throat after he came up with a great -but what he also thought was a heart attack inducing- idea. "Y/N," he stammered.

"Yeah, man?"

"If the whole thing with you dating females doesn't work out, but you still want to try to find love, then I know exactly who you should date next."

Y/N gave Chris a questionable look. He didn't say anything back, just raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously. It took Y/N a few seconds to understand what Chris was talking about. But once she did, her mouth went into an O shape, showing her shock and surprise.

"Are you serious, Evans," Y/N exclaimed; eyes now wide as golf balls. "You wanna date me!?!"

The actor chuckled. He didn't think that his friend would be so shocked by his words. "I've been wanting to date you basically almost ever since we first met, Y/N. I just- -I just never knew what to say to you about it, or if you felt the same way or not and if you didn't then I didn't want to ruin our friendship, or if you did feel the dame way but then something bad happens to us down the road and then that messes with up our friendship and then there's the thing with paparazzi..." Chris was rambling on and on but Y/N was listening to everything he was saying. Hanging onto every word that was coming out of her best friend's mouth.

Y/N had never known that Chris had felt this way about her. It wasn't that she was completely oblivious (well, maybe a little), but she also never saw any signs of her friend being in love with her. Wait. Was Chris in love with Y/N? As far as she knew -or as far as she thought from what she was told so far- this was just a crush. A crush confession that apparently was a long time coming. She wondered how she felt for Chris; did she have the same feelings for him like he did for her? When they first met, all Y/N cared about was how Chris acted as a person, not as Captain America or as an actor in general. But as Chris Evans, an everyday man. Y/N knew, after that one day of meeting Evans, that she wanted to be best friends with the man, nothing more and nothing less. But now, with Chris' confession and continuous ramblings, Y/N was having different and a little bit confusing thoughts.

Sure Chris Evans is an very attractive man, physically speaking. But Y/N doesn't care about looks -much- when it comes to dating or anything for that matter. She thinks what makes people attractive is their personality more than anything, and she knows Chris has the best personality she's ever seen from a person. But she wasn't sure if she was ready to date him or anyone else for that matter. Although, if Y/N was going to date more, then Chris would probably be her number one pick.

"So, what do you say, Y/N," Chris asked, hopeful.

______________________________________________________________

And that's the end of part 1, everyone. Part 2 will be posted....probably next week or so. It is currently one of my WIPs so I'm definitely working on it.

But what do ya'll think will happen next? What will Y/N's answer to Chris be? Will she say yes, or will she say no? Who knows??? Except for me; I know. Also, you're Y/N; Y/N is you, so you better hope that you say something positive back :P Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this! Thanks for reading!!

[scared-aquarius]

me very aggressively complimenting the signs

Aries- You have so much passion for the things and the people you care about that it is SICKENING. You’re so goddamn DETERMINED to meet your goals it is absolutely fucking admirable. You were BORN to be a leader whether you’re leading others or taking control of yourself. You’re not afraid to do what needs to be done because you have the fucking strength. You bring people TOGETHER. You have BIG SHORT PEOPLE ANGER ENERGY and it will get you FAR. You WILL accomplish the things in life by continuing to be your CONFIDENT and BADASS SELF. FUCK

Taurus- You are the definition of a RELIABLE HUMAN BEING. You are the rock that so many people need in their lives. You’re so fucking devoted to any task thrown your way. You make life problems YOUR BITCH. You do this by enduring all the garbage that gets thrown at you and wading it out sometimes based on pure goddamn stubbornness and you come out the other side with a BIG BAG OF ACCOMPLISHMENT and a MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR. Even when you want to give up you DON’T because you’re a responsible PIECE OF SHIT with GLITTER ON TOP and I love that.

Gemini- FUCK GEMINI HATERS. Some may call you two-faced, real ones know you are ADAPTABLE. You are fucking CHAMELEONS. You were the person in high school who had friends in ALL different friend groups. You are truly a gentle person with a curious heart, do you fucking hear me. You have the ability to reach so many people with your WIT and CHARM. You’re not afraid to take off your mask in front of people which makes you that much more RELATABLE. PEOPLE AREN’T ONE-DIMENSIONAL SO YOU SHOULDN’T GET FLAK FOR IT. Direct me to the Gemini haters, let me roundhouse kick them real quick. 

Cancer- You have the BIGGEST HEART and your ability to make others feel comforted in their time of need is EXQUISITE. Those closest to you know you will defend them to your LAST BREATH because you are loyal as fuck. The way you can find even the smallest things to be important or sentimental is VERY TOUCHING. You’re like a $100 8 oz piece of medium rare filet mignon covered in a sugary honey garlic sauce, SWEET and TENDER, SHIT. You can empathize with just about everyone, even those who have wronged you because you really are just that fucking PURE.

Leo- I would very much LIKE TO BE AROUND YOU. Not only do you know how to light up a room but you can FUCKING keep my ATTENTION. You absolutely know how to dominate a conversation, teach me how, you are a goddamn NATURAL. The CHARISMA, it OOZES, sometimes when you don’t even realize. You are the person others go to when they need a good cheering up. You know how to make a person laugh under any circumstance, you fucking wizard. If you were in a movie you’d be the hot one and also the comic relief and also the main character who everyone loves, holy SHIT

Virgo- You very much should receive the RESPECT that you fucking DESERVE. You put in the WORK, bitch, you know how to fucking GET SHIT DONE, bitch. People may misunderstand you for being cold, but in reality you just know how to put your own feelings to the side in order to do the task at hand, and do it with PERFECTION, because you are so fucking detail-oriented, you never miss a single fucking BEAT. You would be the person to find a cure to the zombie apocalypse in less than a fucking week. You can get things right even on your first try because you’re EXTREMELY FUCKING CAPABLE.

Libra- You aren’t afraid to put your faith in others and THAT is what makes you so fucking LIKEABLE. You are humble while still remaining STRONG and true to WHO YOU ARE. People fucking love you because you know how to view a situation from all sides because you have an OPEN MIND and an OPEN HEART. It is truly disgusting how amazing and rare that is, you fucking gem. YOU GODDAMN PERSONIFICATION OF GRACE. How are you able to fight for the things you believe in all while remaining sympathetic to all, it’s beautiful. YOU ARE FUCKING LOVED, UNDERSTAND THIS. 

Scorpio- You are the person who your friends would go to when they need to get rid of a body because you’re that fucking TRUE and FAITHFUL to the people you LOVE. Not only would you get rid of the body, you’d also know how to do it with 100% certainty you’d never get caught because you’re so damn resourceful. Is this morbid as shit? MAYBE, but you don’t care because you’re the FUCKING COOL ONE. You are a FIERCE BITCH who people close to you LOVE and your enemies should FEAR. Never underestimate yourself because you have the PASSION and the CUNNING to get through all fuckery. 

Sagittarius- If I had to sit on a 30-hour long flight with someone, it’d be you because you would be SO FUCKING FUN TO TALK TO. You truly do not give a SHIT what other people think about you and it allows you to speak your mind freely, it’s so fucking amazing. Your love to travel and learn new things makes you INTERESTING as FUCK and you know how to put anyone in a good fucking mood. You make people feel INCLUDED. Your thirst for adventure is CONTAGIOUS, I would like to explore the inside of the earth with you, fucker. You are a prime example of WALKING the FUCKING WALK.

Capricorn- You know how to get the most out of literally ANYTHING, if you were given enough popsicle sticks and glue you could probably build a second fucking Golden Gate Bridge. You KNOW what you want and you know how to fucking get it. Your mind is SHARP AS FUCK. You have so much discipline and self-control you could probably become Lord Commander of the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD and you’d be fucking GOOD AT IT. You are a goddamn force to be reckoned with in both your personal and professional life because you take yours AND others' mistakes and learn from them, it’s fucking BRILLIANT.

Aquarius- The world is your fucking OYSTER, BITCH and you are ready to mold it into what it needs to be. You are CREATIVE, you are INNOVATIVE, you are a fucking VISIONARY. People love you because they know you give a shit about them because you SHOW them. You don’t fucking tolerate those who hurt others and people ADMIRE YOU FOR IT. You aren’t afraid to be your own fucking person and that spans from how you think to how you act to how you look. IT’S ABSOLUTELY FUCKING ALLURING. You help others feel comfortable in their own skin when they’re around you without you even REALIZING. 

Pisces- You are a GODDAMN PIECE OF ART. You are the type of person who would fucking die to save a stranger. You are deeply connected with your emotions and because of this you are able to create ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE FUCKING THINGS, not to mention it allows you to really connect with others. People from all different walks of life get drawn to you because you’re SO FRIENDLY. WE ALL WANNA BE YOUR GODDAMN FRIEND. You see the beauty in the mundane. Describing a personality like yours would turn into fucking POETRY. YOU ARE A SOFT PIANO SONG.

[hiddennerdworld]

MHA Couples Dynamics with art by @leecheedoodles| Too Cool for Skool x Keener (Reader x Iida)

Masterlist

Warnings: none, all fluff stuff

A/N: eeeee I’m so excited about this. I saw this art and immediately was inspired. I would really like to do a series based on these. This is all thanks to leechee doodles here on Tumblr. They are v talented so check them out! I’ve seen others use their art, but if they don’t want me to I can always take it down. Enjoy :)

You and Iida definitely got off on the wrong foot

You guys didn’t hate each other per say, but you annoyed each other for sure

Iida just wanted his fellow classmates to be successful and tried to encourage you as class rep. And you just wanted to only take part in the aspects of hero work that you actually enjoy

In your own ways, you both stressed each other out

Iida would give you lectures any time you ditched class, saying you needed to be responsible in order to be the best hero you can be

You just stood and rolled your eyes the entire time with your arms crossed over your chest

Eventually, one day Iida just said fuck it (he didn’t actually phrase it that way bc he doesn’t use the bad words) and picked you up and carried you to class.

The whole time with you kicking and screaming, which doesn’t affect him bc he’s a fucking tree

This became routine. Iida was with you almost 24/7, keeping you in line. This caused even more tension between you guys

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Well you wouldn’t if you stopped acting like a baby and attended to your duties!” *snickers* “You’re gonna tell me you’re not a baby when you can’t even not laugh at the word ‘duty’?!!!”

The bickering wouldn’t stop and it was driving EVERYONE crazy

So as Aizawa solves all problems, he paired up the duo with pent up frustration for their final exam

You guys were rolling your eyes when you saw you had to work together but weren’t surprised tbh

It seemed like you guys weren’t gonna make it, but at the last second you were able to distract Cementoss and give Iida an in to dash up and capture him

You guys cheered and high fived when you realized you’d passed, the negative feelings towards each other forgotten

Afterward you guys had a talk.

“Good job out there today, Iida. I’m impressed on how you came up with a strategy so quick. I guess studying so much does actually help, huh.”

“Thank you, L/N! I appreciate the kind words, especially coming from someone who has such good control over their quirk like yourself!”

The whole time both of you were staring at the ground, blushing to hard to look at the other person while complimenting them. Iida still did the hand waving tho lmao

Afterwards, Iida still kept an eye on you always bc he thinks you have a lot of potential and wants you to do well

And you don’t find him as annoying anymore, so don’t really try to avoid him

This ends up with you guys basically just hanging out rather than him chaperoning you.

Training, studying, making food, you guys are together a lot

You and Iida occupied a table in the dining area for your studies for the millionth night in a row. The other students know better than to disturb you at this point. Yes, you guys are friends now, but you still bicker like an old married couple.

“I could really go for some ice cream right now,” you said while leaning back in your chair.

“L/N! You know that stuff isn’t good for you! Why do you wish to consume such sugary content?! Why don’t you eat an apple instead?!”

“I don’t think that’s how cravings work. Besides we have training tomorrow and always so I will still be keeping myself in shape. It’s one treat.”

“L/N, we are studying to become the best heroes! We need to be responsi-“

“But that’s just it! We are always going to be working to be the best we can be. You need to be able to enjoy yourself. Life isn’t all about work, you know?” You said standing up and grabbing his arm, “We’re going out. Come on!”

“Absolutely not! It is after curfew! It would be dangerous and-“ Iida lectured on and on until you guys were basically in front of the ice cream place. He tried to get you to stay back, but you were surprisingly strong when you were determined. (Also, he probably wasn’t resisting as much as he could’ve).

You guys went in and ordered. You got cookie dough with some chocolate syrup on top, and Iida got a scoop of vanilla on a cone, only because you insisted he get something. After you got the ice cream you went to a nearby park and sat on a bench.

“Mmmmmm this is so good. Totally worth it.” You say as you take your first bite, eyes closed while enjoying the delicious dessert.

“I’m not sure if it was worth breaking the rules, but as long you are enjoying yourself I guess it’s alright.”

“That’s because you got the most boring flavor. Here try some of mine.” You said raising a spoonful up to him.

This caused his face to go red and he stared at you with wide eyes for a few seconds before speaking. “No, L/N! I appreciate the offer but it would be inappropriate. Mine is perfectly fine and-“

As he was rambling, you shoved the spoon in his mouth, making him blush even harder. “L/N! You could’ve choked me.”

“But was it good though?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” He said at almost a whisper.

A shit-eating grin grew on your face, “Told ya so. See, Iida look.” You gestured over to the sight in front of you. There were people scattered throughout the park enjoying their night, and you could even see the glowing city in the distance. “We are a part of what makes this all possible. There wouldn’t be people out here living their lives if we didn’t keep them safe. It may not be too often, but we still get to relish in the world we created too. It reminds us why we do what we do.”

Iida couldn’t help but just stare at you for a hot minute. You looked gorgeous under the moonlight while you looked around in awe. You were more wise than he ever gave you credit for. He had always thought you were carefree, but actually you just had cared about things differently than him and he failed to realize.

“You’re right, L/N. We should be able to enjoy this more often.”

“We?”

“Of course. Why would I do something fun without you?” Now you started to get all flustered. Feeling heat rush to your face, you covered it with your hands and looked toward the ground. “Are you alright? Sorry I didn’t mean to say anything that would upset you.”

“No, don’t worry. You didn’t upset me. I would love to spend some time with you.”

So you guys did. Well you already spent a lot of time together already but now you guys would go out and do something fun if you had free time

Like instead of training on the weekends, you guys sometimes walked around the park.

And every time you’d go, you guys would also visit the ice cream shop you guys went to that one night and try a new flavor

You also were participating more in class. You’re grades were getting better from the beginning of your guys’ relationship, but now you actually were invested.

After a test, you would show Iida your grade and thank him for all his help, and he would be so proud and excited for you

Of course, your classmates started to catch onto you guys being more and more friendly with each other

Hagakure snuck up on you guys one day while you were studying. “Alright, when did you two start dating? We all thought you hated each other but now we know it was all an act to throw us off, so spill the beans.”

“Oh, no we’re not dating.” You replied

“Well..” Iida started to talk and your eyes darted towards him

“I mean now that someone has said it, I wouldn’t be opposed to dating you, L/N. I really enjoy my time with you and think you’re a great person. Could I take you on an official date?”

“Y-yea I would really like that.”

“Awwww that was so adorable! I can’t believe I just help you guys get together!” She skipped out of the room, on her way to tell everyone her accomplishments

“Sorry, L/N, that probably wasn’t the best timing.”

“Call me Y/N”

“O-oh okay… Y/N. I’m looking forward to going out with you.”

“Me too, Tenya.” You said smiling and grabbing his hand.

Barely anything was said the rest of the time, but you guys couldn’t stop smiling and you didn’t let go of each other’s hands. Safe to say no information was retained from this study session