#the weight of the future does NOT rest on your shoulders alone my friend!! your boyfriend is stuck in hell too! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedros-mustache · 2 years ago

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good thing

word count: ~4k

warnings: smut (18+ only). also: established relationship, angst, non-planned pregnancy, implied sex-for-pay, age gap, language, x fem!reader

a/n: idk you guys. he is—as my middle schoolers would say—Him. it was bound to happen that i would write a pregnancy fic about this man. i will admit that i am weirdly nervous about sharing this fic so please be kind, friends✨🤗

“How long have you known?”

“Long enough.”

“Whose?”

“Not yours.”

The room falls quiet, swollen with the ugly reality of your revelation. Your heart hangs in your chest. A clock on the shelf ticks each miserable second he does not respond.

Joel drums his fingers on the faded arm of the couch, his face blanketed by an unreadable shroud. He stares out the window, and you know he is thinking—wondering—calculating—when this happened. You cannot tell if he is hurt or angry or merely confused, but you can tell he is running the numbers. Running the myriad of possibilities of how you got knocked up under his watch. You could tell him—spill your slimy secrets on the creaking apartment floor like a parishioner at confession—but what good would that do? What would that change? Truth revealed or not, the fact remains:

You are pregnant, and whatever is blossoming between you and Joel, whatever tender flower has broken through cracked soil to find the light of day, the baby is not his. More than that, this development, this situation, marks the end of your budding connection. That glittering future you once saw with him, the future of safety and security at his side? Snipped at the bud, crushed beneath the heel of practicality. You can go no further. Not with him.

Across the apartment, the girl—Ellie—shuffles side to side. You glance at her over your shoulder and watch a wave of discomfort twist her smooth features. You sigh, dropping your arms from their position crossed over your chest.

“Come on, Joel. Now isn’t the time to ask questions. When Tess gets back with the guns, you and her have got to get Ellie out of here.”

Maybe it is something in your resolute tone of voice, or maybe it is reality crashing landing at his feet, but your comment breaks Joel’s attention from the window. He stands, his jaw tight, his brow furrowed. He faces you, and that unreadable shroud falls from his face. He is angry, that much is clear.

He points to the apartment door. “Out.”

The blood in your veins slows, turned sluggish with the weight of your sudden anxiety. “What?” you breathe.

Shaking his head, his free hand comes to rest on his hip. You know the stance: he does it every time you insist on sharing tea in the morning or rubbing the tension from his sore muscles. He’s irritated, but not outraged. That alone is a reassuring sign.

“Not you. Her.” He gestures to Ellie. “Go wait in the hall.”

You start to protest. FEDRA on the move, Fireflies dispersed, night coming quickly—time is wasting. There’s no time for you and him and figuring this out, if that is what he wants. That ship has sailed and sunk beneath a bitter ocean of what-could-have-beens. There is only time for here and now and getting the fuck out of Dodge.

“Joel, I don’t—”

But his face softens as it so rarely ever does. He pulls his stare from the girl and turns his brown eyes—those damn puppy dog eyes—on you, and you are helpless. “Please,” he whispers.

The clock on the shelf ticks louder. Maybe you can steal a few minutes...

Without turning to face Ellie, you cock your head at the door in a silent dismissal. She releases an annoyed huff, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath about fucking adults before slamming the door behind her.

“Delightful child,” you murmur.

“She could save us all.”

Scoffing, you press your palms to the chipped table in the center of the apartment. The wood veneer is smooth, cool to the touch. It soothes your racing heart, even if only for a moment. “You’re starting to sound like Tess.”

Joel remains quiet—perhaps thoughtful, maybe biding his time—but his fixed stare carves gaping holes in the side of your head. You can feel him rooting through your mind like a scavenger. He is wondering when you slipped away long enough, when you found the time. He is replaying the moments in the market when you spoke to any other man and held his gaze for too long. He sifts through your shared memories with frantic fingers, and you can feel him—you know him well enough—to sense the panic swirling in his chest.

But for the first time in the three years you have known him, you do not have it in you to quiet the storm in his mind. You have your own tempest to battle.

Finally, he speaks. “You gonna look at me?”

The slow, deep timbre of Joel’s voice catches you off guard. You expected anger, shouting, frustration that boils over into rage. But Joel has always been gentle with you. Beneath the brusk of necessity, he is a true Southern gentleman. Just like his mama raised him. And even now, standing on the edge of the crumbling cliff where you have placed yourself, he treats you with nothing but respect.

God, you could love him. You really could. If only things were different.

You look away from the table and find him a step closer. Not close enough to touch. He is too angry for that; it is written in the shadow on his brow. But he is close enough that you can see the concern etched in the lines on his face. His frown is not at you, it is for you, and that makes looking at him all the harder.

“When did this happen?”

You shrug, eyes skittering to the floor. “I told you. It doesn’t matter. The details don’t matter.”

“Don’t they?” He has both hands on his hips now, his head tilted as he tries to catch your wandering gaze. “Come on, girl. Answer me. You owe me that.”

He’s right: you do owe him. You owe him so many times over it is impossible to count. Still, if he knew—if he truly knew... There would be no hope of repairing the damage you would cause. You would only split the torn earth on which you stand wider. The crumbling cliff would give way, and you would fall to your doom.

He reaches out. His fingers skim the rough hem of your flannel, his flannel. “Tell me, baby.” Those three words, choked out and brittle with desperation, snap your resolve in two.

You will lay your cards on the table, spread yourself across the sacrificial altar, bear your soul. For him—always for him.

Inhaling, you stand straight, bracing your socked-feet on the floor. You meet his eyes. If you’re going to go down for the decisions of your past, you’ll do it with your chin held high. Your father didn’t raise a quitter.

“Remember that battery, the one for the radio? The boots, the jacket?”

Joel nods. “For my birthday.”

You nod. “For your birthday.”

He holds your unwavering stare. The clock ticks: tick, tick, tick. Understanding rises like a slow tide over his face. You can’t bear to watch it. You look away. Shame gnaws at your stomach like a hungry wolf, and you press a hand to your belly.

“You didn’t—” He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth curling. “You didn’t have to...��

“I wanted to. For you.” Something catches in your throat. You circle the table, placing the furniture between his growing emotion and your growing regret. Fuck, you should have just stayed quiet. “So you could have one good thing.”

“But now you’re—”

“Pregnant.”

Tearing a hand through his hair, Joel twists. He faces the door, and you wonder if he is dreaming of escape just like you. You wonder if he is dreaming of a world where doves still fly and babies live past six months and men and women can afford to build a life together.

He presses a closed fist to his mouth. Light bounces off the cracked face of his wrist watch. “What are you going to do?”

You answer without hesitation. “Keep it.”

His neck turns so fast you swear you hear it crack. You would joke about his age if the situation weren’t so dire. Two nights ago you joked that he is old enough to be your uncle, maybe even your dad; he fucked you good when you said that, just to prove you wrong. That levity feels far away now, impossible to grasp should you even dare try.

“The likelihood of survival—”

“Is slim. For me and the baby, I know. But I’ve thought about it. Hell, I’ve even prayed about it. And I—” You blink away the warm tears rising to blur your vision. “I want this.”

“Why?”

Why? What a simple question. What a loaded answer. You don’t know where to begin. But he looks at you with such earnestness, such a craving to understand, that you have to at least try.

“I want a husband,” you say. When he frowns in confusion, you push onward, the words rising to your tongue like a sermon. “I want a child and a home. A life I can build and call my own. I may never have a husband or a true home, but with this child, no matter how it came to be…” You give a pitiful shrug of your shoulders. “I need something more, Joel. Something more than simply living to die.”

After a moment, when your words have settled like dust on a crowded roadway, Joel motions to your stomach. He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Can—can I?”

“Yes.” You release the word on a stolen breath.

Rounding the table, Joel keeps his focus glued to your abdomen. His chest rises and falls, deep inhale after shallow exhale. He stands before you, a giant amongst men, his fingers shaking as he unbuttons the three lower buttons of his flannel. He brushes the fabric aside, and when your stomach is bare before him, he swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs as though he, too, feels a lump lodged in his throat. He smooths the palm of his hand over the slight bump at your womb. Barely there, blink and you miss it, but unmistakable once noticed.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see,” he murmurs. His thumb massages your ever-stretching skin, back and forth, back and forth. His warm breath fans your face as his forehead comes to rest against yours.

“Because you didn’t want to.”

You pass your fingers through the graying hair at his temples and study the way his eyelashes fan his cheekbones. Little moments, you think, to be tucked away in your heart once this is all over and he is gone.

“When Kate was pregnant, I knew. Sarah... I could feel her...”

Your chin trembles, your fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know... I know...”

“A baby. In this world. I can’t remember the last time I—”

Without warning, he cuts his own thought short and slowly lowers himself to his knees. He presses one hand to the small of your back, the other still massaging the bump of your stomach. You hold your breath as he leans forward and touches your bump with his forehead. He whispers something, something you cannot hear and you suspect is not for you, and then he is standing. He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and when you meet his eyes, you see the world.

“Sugar, you are my good thing.”

I wanted to. For you. So you could have one good thing.

His words—your words—ring loud in your ear, and you choke on a sob as he lowers his mouth to yours. He kisses you like the rain kisses dry land. You are parched, cracked and withered from the fear of this moment, but with his touch, he waters your aching heart. He is eager, holding you close, cradling your jaw with the wide expanse of his hand. Never before, not in the year of sharing his bed, has he kissed you with such devotion coating his lips. You could drown in it.

You tear your mouth away long enough to look over your shoulder. The door to the apartment remains shut, a measly separation between you and the outside world. “The girl—”

Joel shakes his head, already working on the remaining buttons of your flannel. “She doesn’t matter.” He kisses your neck, once, twice, creating a wet trail to your earlobe. “Not right now.”

“Okay.” You turn back to him, your face softening as you catch his dark eyes.

He nudges your nose with the end of his own. “Okay.”

Words dissipate. Like fresh dew beneath the morning sun, the need for talking disappears under the weight of all that is and was and could be. There is nothing more to say—not aloud, not right now—but there is much, oh so much, your body can say for you.

You kiss Joel with a fierceness you have not felt since the first time he laid his hands upon you. You are desperate for him, desperate to tell him just why you did what you did, and how much you need him, want him, fuck—maybe even love him. You part your lips to allow him access, and you cling to his arms, your nails biting the flesh beneath his denim shirt. He hisses when you bite his lower lip, the hand still resting in the small of your back pushing you closer to his warmth. You tangle your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer, closer, as close as he can get without forcing him to merge into your own skin.

With a quiet grunt, he fists his hand in the hair at the back of your head and wrenches to the side. You gasp, eyes widening as he flattens his tongue against your pulse point. He sucks your skin, biting gently, before releasing your neck with a wet pop. You whimper—even as he takes your chin in his fingers again and seals his mouth to yours.

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink fully into the kiss. You do not know what the future holds or what will become of you and the child within. All you know is that here, in the now, in the present, Joel kisses you, and sweeps his tongue across your tongue, and runs his hand down the inside of your jeans to cup your ass. And for right now, in the here and the present, you are okay and you are safe and the risk of being with him is worth the reward.

He squeezes the flesh of your ass again, and you shake yourself free of any wayward thinking. Just him—just you—just now.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers against your lips. “Mine.”

You nod, and through laboring breaths, you confirm what has always been the truth. “Yours.”

It is a backwards, lopsided dance to the only bed in the apartment. He collapses to the edge, and you straddle his thigh as you kiss him. His broad hands run the course of your body, up and down, front and back. He massages your breasts through the paltry fabric you call a bra, pausing long enough to tweak a nipple hard enough you whine. He chuckles, leans forward, sucks the offended nub through the covering. You go to shrug off his flannel, but Joel stops you with a hand to your arm.

“No.” His eyes roam from your face to your shoulders to your peaked nipples and finally, the swollen womb above your center. “Keep it on.”

He leans back on his palms as you unclasp your bra and toss it to the floor. The zipper of his jeans strains against his growing erection. You peel your underwear off and face him with a smirk.

“You’re overdressed.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgment. “Maybe.”

“We should fix that.”

He waves his hand in invitation. “Be my guest.”

Biting your lower lip to conceal a grin, you pounce, zealous for him as much as he is for you. His clothes come off in quick succession until you are both naked save for his flannel hanging loose around your shoulders. He pauses then, a second, maybe two, his hand poised against the side of your neck. His eyes dart between yours, his lips parted, words he dare not say resting on the tip of his tongue.

“I know, baby.” You put one hand on his shoulder, his warm, tan skin a comfort against the chill in the room. You reach out and grip his hard cock with your opposite hand, and when he winces in pleasure, you brush your knuckles over the hair on his jaw. “I know.”

Joel allows you to stroke him, a rare occurrence in your repertoire of fucks. What is normally a frenzied connection in the dark, moments stolen before the light of day brings reality crashing back, is turned slow by the knowledge that things are different now. Things cannot be as they once were, no matter what the future may bring. So you stroke his cock, spit in your hand, and stroke it faster. Up and down, until he is pulsing in your hand and weeping from the tip. He drops to his back on the bed, his face buried in his hands as you touch him.

But then you pull away.

Joel removes his hands from his face. He stares at you, a flash of annoyance brightening his eyes. “What—”

“Shh.” You plant both hands on his sturdy chest as you swing your leg over his hips. “Walls are thin.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you run your dripping warmth over his tip. You hover above him, eyes rolling back in your head as you tease yourself. Sparks of pleasure radiate through your body, and you grit your teeth to keep from moaning. Joel grabs your hips, but he does not force you down. No, he waits until you are ready. He waits until you position his cock at your entrance and begin the slow descent to heavenly madness.

You suck in a deep breath as his cock stretches you open. He fits snug in your core, like he was crafted just for you. When you have adjusted to his girth, you move your hands to grip his arms. You shift your knees, lifting your hips up before descending again. Over and over, a smooth, unchanging rhythm.

You are in no hurry to find release. For once this fuck is more than finding a shot of pleasure amidst the cruel darkness of the world. You want this to last and you want this to feel good. You need this imprinted upon your mind, locked in the secret place of your heart.

But you and he both can only take the slowness for so long.

Joel soon resumes his position of dominance, as is custom when his need builds. You allow it because you crave it. His breadth and strength and command shields you from danger in the outside world, but you crave it in bed too, when you can allow that breadth and strength and command to slam the fear from your mind.

He slides an arm around your waist and flips you to your back, keeping you snug beneath him. He gives a few experimental thrusts before he kisses you—softly, a tender hello before the war that is sure to come. He leans back and exposes your body to the yellow light of the room. He trails his hand down your sweaty chest. His fingers dance over your bump, hovering there as if in prayer, before finding your swollen clit. You gasp, hips lifting upward, as he rubs you in circle after circle. He brings you to the edge before pulling away and gripping your shins with his hands. He pushes forward, and you are bent in half, completely at his mercy.

Holding your knees to your chest, he picks up the pace. He plows into you, teeth gritted, lips pulled back in a snarl. He watches his rigid length split you apart, thrust after thrust. On some level, you know he is staking his claim. He drives into you with such force, with such feral carnality, you know there is some part of him that just wants to mark his territory. Reclaim what is rightfully his. You let him because it is true. You belong to him, Joel Miller, not the man who planted his seed in you and walked away. Always and forever—his—your purpose.

You slap your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out in delicious agony. You feel stretched and full and electric all at once.

“That’s it.” Joel releases your shins but presses his chest to your legs. Your hips lift, swallowing him to the hilt. “Take me—fuckin’—good.”

The pressure in your core builds. Light dances at the fringes of your touch. You close your eyes, latching on to the feeling.

Leaning back, Joel swats your hip. “Open your eyes.” He withdraws his cock far enough to slam into you with more force, his tip angled against your most sensitive spot. “Look at me.” He swats your ass again.

Dutifully, you peel your eyes open. You look at him—into his eyes, his soul—as he fucks you.

You burst like the skin of a ripe grape. It is violent, sudden, earth-shattering. You convulse beneath him, and the tremors wracking your frame are enough to send him over the edge. He grabs the curve of your waist with one hand, lurching forward to catch himself on his forearm above your head. He swallows his groan of pleasure, managing to barely release a muffled whimper. His warmth oozes from your core and stains the bed sheets beneath.

He remains tucked inside of you until you are forced to push him away. A cramp in your leg demands attention, and you rub the blasted muscle until the pain has subsided. You return to his side, to his sweaty body, to his arm that slips beneath his flannel and lays beneath your back. He rolls to his side to face you.

The truth of your situation looms like a storm cloud at the edge of the room. He can see it; you can see it. You must acknowledge it before the here and now is upon you and you have no plan with which to fight it.

“What are we gonna do?” You hold his forearm, thumb brushing the bone of his wrist. His hand is warm and heavy on your cheek, his eyes married to yours.

He does not hesitate. “I’ll keep you safe. Both of you. All of you.” He smooths the sweat-plastered hair away from your face. “I promise.”

You nod because Joel Miller always keeps his promises. Whatever he says is true.

He relaxes his hold on your face as he shifts onto his back. His eyes flutter shut, his breathing even. You glance at him and the evening light that cuts his face in angular shadows.

“Hey, Joel?”

He opens one eye, peers at you in expectation.

You smile—softly, a tender hello before the war that is sure to come. “You’re my good thing, too.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #hbo the last of us

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thetormentita · 1 month ago

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the last storm

maybe she is being kept alive for a reason.

Pairing: Argella Durrandon x Orys Baratheon (one-sided)

A/n: mentions of violence and suicide.

Rating: Mature (+16)

She has never felt alone, not truly. Despite the corpses of her dead siblings, in her heart she has never felt alone with the children in Storm’s End. She used to play with them, study the maester’s lessons with them, eat with them. There were Androw and Robert in one hand, whom she loved as much as would have done with her own brothers, and also this Trant Girl, Rowan, who had been a confident to her childish secrets.

Now they are gone.

The soldier next to her doesn’t seem to stop talking, but her thoughts are far from that tent. Rowan had been the first to betray her, that is why her bile boils with the mere thought of that damned red-headed. When she needed them the most, nobody could be found inside the castle, and she still regrets it. Androw and Robert were fighting with her father outside, and she did not notice it until it was too late.

Her mind brings her to reality, and it hurts like the deepest of hells.

“Soon a maester will come to take care of your wounds, my lady.”

She is too tired to lift her gaze from the floor. Her eyes, once bright like a sunny sky, only are able to spot the ground beneath her feet and the heavy boots of the man who had killed her father, the fool of a man. Beneath her trembling hands rests a goblet, half empty, and the cold draining weight of the chains and the cloak stained with Stormlander blood had been replaced by a blanket, worn but warm, draped over her shoulders. She finds herself thirsty, her throat parched beyond reason. He seems to notice with a mere look, because he soon pours wine for her to drink.

She wonders about the reason behind that much interest. Easily he can subdue her, but instead, he chooses oddly gentle gestures. Her suspicion is an ever-present shadow, lingering behind every careful move he makes. He could easily make her a prize for his best soldiers to take, sell her to a pillow house —at least she would meet her sweet Alys again, or even claim her to himself and easily take her to death with his own bare hands , but he does none of these things. Instead, he studies her with a mix of curiosity and something that resembles respect.

Respect.

Does the commander of that bunch of beasts have more brains than the rest of the world?

The thought both unsettles and intrigues her.

With steady but careful hands he leads her to the nearest place to sit down, offering her his arm to lean into when her own knees seem to fall apart and highly disappoint her, making herself be seen more than vulnerable, if it is even possible. As she reluctantly leans on him, she feels the strength beneath his robes, and her fear mixes with confusion.

Once she manages to sit on a wooden trunk, feeling the lock against her naked calf, her eyes subtly go to the entrance of the tent, her mind racing with the possibilities of her future. She would try to escape, but that man would easily hinder any possible attempt.

“Nobody will bother you, there is no need to worry.”

The pain in her chest is replaced by a hole. A hole where hope used to reside, now filled with questions and uncertainty. She wants to ask for her friends, for the only ones that have not sold her to the invaders, to the man by her side who carefully tends to any of her needs while a maester makes his way towards the tent, but what terrifies her is the answer she can get.

A thunderclap echoes in the distance, and the light coming from outside tells her that, if they are lucky, the storm will stay by the Shipbreaker Bay.

How delightful would it be to succumb by a lightning in that precise moment.

“Rest now, gather your strength," his voice tinged with an unexpected softness.

“Commander” she tilts her head to look at him in the eye, for a moment getting lost in the blue of his eyes and the quiet intensity they hold. “If you are to kill me, I beg you to do it quickly.”

#argella durrandon fic #argella durrandon fanfic #the last storm #fire and blood fic #fire and blood fanfic #orys baratheon fic #asoiaf fic #asoiaf fanfic #a song of ice and fire fic #a song of ice and fire fanfic

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kaz-identified · 1 year ago

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Haiiiii! Chapter two is here. Updates will be stalled for a small bit because I am in fact, starting college in less than a week! But enjoy what we got, I promise my future updates will be incredible!

Pairing: Ulysses + Faolan (OC Guardians)

Category: Chapter Fic

Genre: Comedy

Rating: 13+

Warnings: Language, Death Mentions

Word Count: 1283

Summary: Ask your brother, he’s got good advice.

series masterlist

oh, sweet child of mine.

The archives provide a sense of peace that cannot be found no where else in the Tower.

The silent comfort of knowledge and the quiet dread of knowing so much has been lost. There’s something cosmic about standing amidst endless records and tombs and knowing that this will outlast you, and then it too will be forgotten. All things rot away in time. But a historian’s job is to do everything in their power to ensure that the rot does not consume, and that all things can be recovered, remembered, and told again and again and again.

“Time moves on, and though many try to stop it or reverse the flow, the wheel spins on, unbothered by our thoughts, our feelings, our dreams of a glorious past. But if we run with it, we can fashion a better tomorrow. So, we fight on, and we dream of golden ages.”

So it is written. So it is said.

Ulysses has been repeating this to himself for ages. He cannot stop the rot, cannot slow the spin, but he can try his best to keep it from erasing things. Sometimes that ways on him, the immense weight of preserving small fragments from being crushed underfoot by giants. But time does not wait, history moves on, and so he must as well.

Saying words, putting them to pen is a lot easier than believing them.

You pray you know enough to act and jump headlong into situations you cannot possibly understand, fighting and scraping and dying and trying, that’s what soldiers are for. It’s hard to keep a level head in desperate circumstances, but that’s what scholars are for. Applying rationale after the fact, making sense of the madness of war. But what of when scholars become the soldiers? Then, you do the best you can for as long as you can and hope what you’re doing is right, hope when you settle to recount it you aren’t haunted by the smell of gunsmoke and the taste of blood. You do what you must. And you remember that after the war, there will be peace.

There is peace in the archives, aside from the melancholy of knowing nothing here is complete, so many scraps of information lost with needless bloodshed. How far back had the Red War pushed their record keeping? The assault on the Moon? The battle of Six Fronts? How many Guardians fell, their friends mourning in quiet, their names in no record, engraved on no wall? How many died to build the walls their names adorn? How many names have been forgotten? Can you remember the noble dead by their names alone? What happens when their actions are all that are known? What makes a noble death, anyway? Is it the death itself or the actions leading up to it? Is there any such thing, or is that just a lie we tell soldiers to make them feel better when they fall down and die, dreaming of a paradise where they can lay down arms and rest? One can only hope that there is. So that the eons of young men sent to battle with helpless odds did not all die for nothing. So that the ages of Guardians collapsing in on themselves could reach something akin to salvation in the en-

“Ulysses? Are you okay? You’ve been standing there for five minutes, should I call someone?” A voice cuts through the clutter and noise of deep think.

Ulysses shakes his head and looks to where his Ghost is hovering, shell tilted in a mimicry of human concerned posture. “I’m fine, Minerva. Just… pensive.”

He could feel her silence, heavy on his shoulders like a thick wolf’s pelt, voiceless quiet concern, but still felt as sharp as any words. “Don’t look at my like that,” he says quietly, turning away from her robotic gaze.

“Then don’t look forward like that!” She counters, hovering just above his shoulder like a bird. “You worry me when you get lost in thought, I never know what you’re thinking,” she chirps.

He offers a small laugh, playfully swatting her away. “I’m fine, really, I’m fine.”

Minerva huffed but relented. “Well, regar-“

And then the crashes sounded. They both whipped around on high alert, just in time for a bullet-speed rush of armor and fur to careen straight into Ulysses, caterwauling in misery.

“ULYSSEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!” Faolan cried, barreling into him and collapsing unceremoniously into his arms, dropping her head against his breastplate and wailing. “The Vanguard’s out to get me!”

Ulysses stood still and tense for a moment, supporting her in his arms before looking down at his sister, letting her stay held up by him for a moment longer before helping her to stand fully and taking a step back.

Minerva flitted around the young Guardian much in the way a nursemaid checks up on their charge when they return from playing a bit too rough in the yard.

Faolan’s own Ghost, who had refused any attempts at naming insisting that Ghost is in fact, quite fine, thank you very much, hovered at her shoulder, shifting his shell in a way very akin to an eye roll. “They are not out to get you, you’re being dramatic,” he chastises gently.

She swats him away and looks pleadingly at Ulysses. Her eyes carry less of the wolfish hunger and intensity he is used to and more a puppyish pleading, begging for attention and help.

“Please talk to them! I’m gonna die if you don’t,” she begs, clinging to his robes like a lost child.

“Ah, you’re in your downfall? Can I watch?”

“Take this seriously!”

“I am. You’re one of, if not the, greatest Guardians in modern Tower history. Tracking your direct downfall would be fascinating.”

She immediately hardens, her gaze turning annoyed and her lips drawing into a line. “Ok so, screw you. I hope your research grant gets denied and then you die horribly forever.”

And there was the little wolf he knew, a childish beast full of teeth and ready to bite. “Okay. But talk with them about what, exactly?”

She dropped back to pleading, grabbing on to his sleeve with wide eyes. “They’re making me room with a person I don’t even know!” She cried like this was the greatest crime to ever happen.

“Ah, may you rest well in peace, you’re gonna screw this up immediately,” he chuckles, offering a comforting pat to the shoulder.

“Oh, die!” She grumbles, but leans into his hand.

“Hey,” he offered a placating gesture, “I’m simply speaking from the experience of being on a fireteam with you,” he ruffles her hair.

She let out a catlike hissing noise, swatting at his hand. “My roommate has a hat. That says fish fear her. And I kinda do too!”

Ulysses took his hand from her head and braced them on her shoulders, holding her straight out so he could look her in the eyes. “I have stood by your side while you struck down gods and dragons. You’re scared of a hobby fisherman?”

“I FEAR THE DEPTHS, ODYSSEUS!” She cries.

“You are quite sincerely hopeless, I fear,” he offers and pulls her into a tight hug. “I’m not talking to Ikora about this but my advice is keep sleeping in your ship if this bothers you so much.”

“That’s horrible advice! That doesn’t fix any of my problems!” She argues, squirming in his grip.

“Yeah well, it’s all I got. Take it or leave it.”

“Leaving it, burying it even!”

“You’re so dramatic,” he teases, letting her go. “Now get out of my archives,” he pushes her towards the door, Minerva bidding her a farewell, and returns to his work.

Woohoo! Sibling dynamics!!

ao3: houseofmcallister buy me a coffee!

Don’t repost my work or I’ll eat your shoulder blades! I do not consent to my works being used for AI training purposes.

#a wolf walks into an apartment #destiny oc #destiny fanfic #fanfic #destiny the game #destiny #destiny 2 #dtg #d2 #destiny series #angst #angst with a happy ending #comedy fic #comedy

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ehlessandraspsyche · 1 year ago

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Blog Post 7: to all the selves I've loved before

past memories

Dear past Gaby,

I wouldn’t even bother asking how you are feeling. I know, I’ve been there. I have felt everything you feel. I have shed every tear you will shed. Every doubt that comes to your mind I already know. We both know that we are terrible at comforting other people, what makes us think that we can comfort ourselves? We are INTJs after all (don’t worry we haven’t changed all that much). Even though people say that you are mature for your age. That you are the perfect kid. Remember that that is what you are. Just a kid. You don’t need to feel as if you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Kids make mistakes and kids aren’t perfect. Even if you think that all is lost, just carry on. However bad you think it gets, the world never ends as long as you don’t stop trying. Your family and friends will not desert you. You are not alone. Your future is bright. You get into a school that you would’ve never dreamed of applying to in the first place. Stop obsessing over the little things and let your anxiety go away.

We could never undo the past, but we can look to the future.

Sincerely,

current experiences

Dear present Gaby,

Hi. It seems weird to write a love letter to my current self. I just want to tell you this. Please take time to rest. Take care of yourself and relax for once. I know that we are currently drowning in requirements right now but that does not mean that we can let ourselves go. Taking care of ourselves by eating well, sleeping enough hours, and not ruminating over every single thing will do wonders for our mental health. I do feel like a hypocrite right now because let’s be honest, we will probably sleep late tonight too. But that’s okay, as long as we have the intent to take care of ourselves, the first step is done. We cannot prepare for the future if we do not take care of ourselves in the present. I know you probably don’t feel it right now, but I love you. Even if we may make mistakes every single day.

Sincerely,

future happiness

To future Gaby:

I hope we are in med school by now. Just kidding. I don’t really know what happens in the future (I’m not there yet, as you can probably tell), but I hope that we are happy. Not everything goes to plan and that is okay. As long as you and the people around you are happy, then everything will turn out fine. I hope we would be achieving our dreams or whatever we desire. I hope that we finally are at peace with whatever happened, happens, and may happen. I can only hope for what would happen to us in the future, but whatever it is I pray that it is good. We evolve and develop as humans every single day. Who I am emotionally, cognitively, and mentally may be very different to who I am in the future. But that does not mean that I would be disappointed in who I become because it is part of the journey.

Be happy.

Sincerely,

Word Count: 542 Words

References:

Jean Piagets theory of cognitive development. RSS. (n.d.). https://www.structural-learning.com/post/jean-piagets-theory-of-cognitive-development-and-active-classrooms#:~:text=The%20Theory%20of%20Cognitive%20Development,world%20(Miller%2C%202011).

The Myers & Briggs Foundation - MBTI® basics. (n.d.). https://www.myersbriggs.org/my-mbti-personality-type/mbti-basics/

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arkhavens · 2 years ago

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hello and welcome to another vague fic idea i will probs never do anything with!

obiquin timetravel au <3

Essentially: After the end of Kenobi s1 Quinlan and Obi-Wan find each other on Tatooine and after a very cute little reunion fall asleep together in Obi-wans bed, tangled in each others arms.

Then they jolt awake 30ish yrs in the past(bc long-term obiquin is something that i see not nearly enough of and its one of my most beloved concepts), tangled together in the jedi temple.

theres kinda a moment of "why the fuck are you 17?" "why the fuck are YOU 17??" and then all the usual time travel realizations of "we're definitely in the past", "how the hell do we act 17 again", "what do we do about the future", "this is a remarkably inconvenient age to time travel back to", "oh shit what was i doing the day before" etc etc

theyre both sort of freaking out right then. yes, theyre back before the end of everything, and all the friends that died from the war or from order 66 are alive, and they have a chance to fix things!! but they cant do anything immediately, can they?

the clones havent been made yet, they dont know if sidious is even the sith master right now, anakin was probably only Just born and they have no clue where shmi even is, Naboo+Maul arent for several years at this point.

and even then, they still have to consider the ramifications for the changes they want to make. do they have the right to stop the clones from being made? would that even stop the clone wars from happening? what if this time the war drafts citizens instead? If they try and have obiwan knighted earlier, what would that do to naboo? if they go and find anakin earlier, will the trade federation control ship still go down? What can they do? what can they risk? what is even possible to change?

all they can do is wait. and go about their lives as if things were normal.

whatever happens after that is honestly up in the air. if they tell someone else or not, what they change, how they change it, what comes of that etc. be it a fix-it or a fuck-it, it turns out better than the first go around.

#obi wan kenobi #obiquin #quinobi #star wars #star wars legends #obi wan #fic idea #sw fic idea #||#it just felt interesting to think about a time travel fic in which there isnt anything immediate to do #bc most of em drop obi wan right b4 bandomeer or naboo #that ive seen at least #its also obiquin bc i like time travel with buddies<33 #the weight of the future does NOT rest on your shoulders alone my friend!! your boyfriend is stuck in hell too!#in the star wars canon i ascribe to obiquin were sorta friends in the creche #(not like close-close but enough to shenanigan together sometimes)#but got super close following the stark hyperspace war like in the comics(wld b roughly age 13-14)#and they got together properly at 15ish #bc the idea of them being in a 20ish yr long relationship and just Entirely not hiding it #while anakin is 4 ft away and going obiwan would rat me out to the council if i told him about my marriage:((( id get kicked out:((#is so fucking funny to me #you know maybe one of these days ill write out all of the headcanons n shit that i have bc i have a LOT of them #my posts

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family

I’m Home

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | based on the request ^^

Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.

There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.

Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.

“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.

“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.

“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.

“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.

“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.

“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”

“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.

“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”

“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.

The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.

“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”

“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”

“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”

“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”

“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.

“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.

“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.

“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,

“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.

But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”

As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”

To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.

“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”

“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”

“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”

Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.

“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.

The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.

“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”

Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.

Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.

Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.

They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.

“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.

“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.

“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”

“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”

“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”

“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.

“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“

“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.

“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.

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1drarepairfics · 2 years ago

Photo

Here’s the roundup for June 2022!

Remember to leave kudos and comments if you check these out.

Feel free to submit you fics to the blog if you want to be included in future lists.

🌈 In the midst of a storm by @quelsentiment --- [fic post] [[WIP]]

ot5 | 51k | mature

Zayn didn’t know that a new story was about to unfold right in front of his eyes. If he had known, maybe he wouldn't have been so quick to claim that his life was quiet and uneventful, even verging on boring at times. If he had known, it was hard to say whether he would have stayed in bed that day, kept the bookshop closed, and avoided all that was to come or, on the contrary, gone to the pier himself to greet the newcomer with eagerness.

🌈 Vampire's Kiss by by @blaise-on-melancholy-hill

ziam | 50k | mature

Zayn works as a servant and blood giver for a group of old and rich vampires. He just does what he's told, whether that's cleaning up around the big mansion house, or opening a vein for them. One day, he's asked to take food downstairs to the basement dungeon where there's a few prisoners in cells. It's not the first time he's done it, but there's something different about this time. He doesn't know what the new prisoner has done to deserve being tortured and thrown in here, but he can't just leave him to die.

It's too late by the time it dawns on him that he should've just walked away, and by the time he figures out that he should not get involved with this vampire, he's already way in over his head.

🌈 I drown with every kiss, I’m not used to this by just_a_blurryface --- [fic post]

ziam | 41k | mature

Zayn is an artist who fell in love with the chocolate sculptures he keeps seeing every time he passes by the chocolate shop. He didn’t intend to fall in love with the guy he’s met inside it too.

🌈 run away with my heart by storhan

narry | 28k | explicit

Niall’s a con artist who was only after Harry’s money, but he left with something much more valuable: his heart.

🌈 Killer by Avariiice

narry | 28k | teen and up

When Harry arrives in Ireland, he's hoping to leave everything in his past.

Then he meets Niall Horan and suddenly everything seems to fall in place for once in his goddamn life.

That is, until someone decides they'd prefer Harry dead.

🌈 Two Birds On A Wire by DaphneLoligo

haylor | 20k | mature

Taylor and Harry are best friends since childhood. One night, their entire relationship changes. They plan to just have sex without feelings, but when has that ever worked out?

🌈 I Know It's Weird, But It's Worth It by @restless-rebels --- [fic post]

zarry | 10k | not rated

Zayn's on a journey and Harry is there to help her along

🌈 Feeling Green by SyupeoBWanna

ot5 | 9k | mature

Harry is not feeling well but he doesn't want everyone to be worried. He didn't tell anyone. A fight happened and is everything will be okay? A sickfic.

🌈 Under Your Skin, Over the Moon by Cowboying

horville | 9k | mature

Orville is leaning some of his weight on the table before Harry, where he sits tucked into the booth alone. What a terrible socialite he is tonight! He ought to be ashamed of himself. Dorothy would have already befriended every misfit in the crowd of afterparty-goers, the people who didn't quite fit in with the rest. He supposes it's alright the tables are a bit turned.

or, Harryween Weekend featuring Orville and Harry.

🌈 stay soft (but don't be gentle) by mywonderwall

gryles | 7k | explicit

The moment Nick hooks his arm around Harry’s shoulders and brings him into his side, as he has done so many times before, Harry knows he’s a goner. He hates that he doesn’t even know if his body would like what he thinks his brain likes. Because all those years ago, fooling around with Nicole in his childhood bedroom, he had been so convinced that he wanted her, so hot for her in his mind, and then…

At least Nicole had been kind about it.

He wonders if Nick can feel how fast his heart is racing.

🌈 All The Small Things by @restless-rebels --- [fic post]

lilo | 6k | not rated

Louis finally looked up, staring at the same boy from the laundry room, his hair dry and soft looking, a short quiff at the top of his head. “Hey, uh, Liam, right?”

The tall alpha nodded. “Not a problem, Louis?” The omega nodded. “Is your wrist okay?” Before Louis could answer, he felt a rush of calm wash over him, as though he took a shot of whiskey. He watched as Liam closed his eyes and smiled.

Louis cleared his throat, having forgotten for a second that he had even fallen. “I think so. I didn’t put all of my weight on it, at least I don’t think I did. I’m sure Harry will insist on wrapping it when we get upstairs either way.”

“Good, that’s good.” They stood there awkwardly, Liam’s hands still holding Louis’s arm, both just staring, neither saying anything.

🌈 just me and you (sweet endings too) by mywonderwall

gryles | 5k | explicit

Nick swoops down to kiss him, unable to help himself. “I want this to be all about you, alright? Nothing gets me hotter than you feeling good.” It’s true, and it seems to be something that is very Harry-specific for Nick. Or maybe it’s the whole “being in love” thing. Turns out, it’s not as overrated as he once thought. Under Your Skin, Over the Moon

🌈 Love and Hate (on Tour!) by lastdirection

gryles | 5k | mature

Nick reluctantly uses his holiday time to go on tour with his boyfriend’s band. While his boyfriend’s best friend seems to hate him, Nick can’t bring himself to care, honestly.

🌈 we could be the ocean (or nothing at all) by caujinary

ziall | 4k | general audiences

Zayn finds himself helpless to the call of Niall’s sea blue eyes.

🌈 Welcome To the Family by Chai_tea_bea

ziam | 3k | not rated

Zayn just wants his baby, and the universe grants him that wish, but it takes longer than he would've liked it to. It's all worth it though, when he remembers that he gets to be a dad, and gets to watch the love of his life be a dad.

🌈 Bluebirds Fly by @lh-home --- [fic post]

horville | 2k | explicit

Orville gets railed by his little bluebird on Harryween.

🌈 Louis-my-hedgehog by ColThKnighthold

zouis | 1k | teen and up

In which Louis has not a nice childhood, but does find love in the end

🌈 Naughty naughty by FeatherLight55

ot5 | 1k | mature

Subs Niall and Zayn are very sneaky, going out clubbing in the middle of the night. Turns out, the Doms knew all along and they are not happy.

🌈 Virginia is for Lovers by @haztobegood --- [fic post]

narry friendship | 1k | general audiences

Harry and Niall go hiking in the Appalachian Mountains.

🌈 never seen anything so obscene by sunflowerrry

gen | 596 | not rated

Louis is performing live in Mexico and decides to do things a bit differently.

🌈 Snap, Crackle and Pop by Purple_Pixie143

tomlinshaw | 300 | mature

Just trying to clear these dust mites outta my head

#rare pair roundup #june 2022

32 notes · View notes

kimvvantae · 4 years ago

Text

puzzle; 8 (FINAL)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex

rating: 18+

word count: 16k

A/N: finally the last chapter! i am actually feeling very emotional right now. i enjoyed writing puzzle so much and it received so much love since the beginning! your feedback always kept me motivated to write. thank you so much to everyone that followed these two dorks and waited patiently for every update. i hope we can meet again in future works!

hmmm, a little rec?? but i listened to sweet night by taehyung as i wrote this chapter. maybe listening to it will enhance your experience too!

enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

You don’t know how long it has been until Taehyung finds you.

It’s cold. The tears have finally come to a halt, but you’re still sobbing and sniffling. You should probably get up and go home. It’s late. Not safe to be alone on the street like this. You should probably call an uber or something.

Yet, every time you think of Jungkook’s tears, it seems that your own eyes well up with tears all over again.

What makes you snap back into reality is the sound of shoes walking down the stairs.

You get up in a jump, feeling your legs ache in the process, and turn around to see the person you least expected to see right now. Taehyung stops some steps ahead. The light pole behind him marks his silhouette with a halo.

“I finally found you,” he says after a few seconds. He sounds hesitant but somehow relieved.

It makes your heart clench even more.

You make an immense effort to speak, as if words ran over inside your throat and made it stuck. Well, they did, in a sense.

“Taehyung, w-what…?” is all you can stutter. You don’t really need to finish the sentence. What are you doing here? Why did you come after me even though I hurt you?

He looks down and caresses the back of his neck. You notice that he’s nervously fiddling with his car keys on the other hand. Oh. He probably didn’t want to be around you, either.

“Well, you ran away down the street like that. I got worried.”

You shouldn’t.

“It’s… not safe to be by yourself on the street like this. I’m taking you home.”

Please, don’t be kind to me.

It will be much harder if you’re being kind to me.

“Taehyung, I…” you feel yourself squeezing your purse against you, just as nervous as he is. You don’t want to bother him with your presence anymore. “I was about to call an uber. You don’t need to…”

“It’s alright. I’m already here anyway.” He starts to walk up the stairs again without looking back. Without giving you a chance to disagree. “Let’s go.”

It seems that your legs forgot how to walk as you watch him. You don’t want to get inside his car. You don’t want to face him, not right now.

When Taehyung reaches the top of the stair alley, he finally looks back at you in silence.

That’s when you realize that you have to face him. You were never one to run away from the consequences of your actions.

The newest consequence is staring back at you in quiet sadness.

You inhale deeply before going after him.

An awful silence hovers in the air during the entire ride home.

You can’t help but shrink on the passenger’s seat, hugging your own arms tight, your head leaning on the window. Taehyung does not make any attempt to engage a conversation. His presence is suffocating.

Something cold sets in your stomach when he parks the car in front of your apartment’s building. There’s nothing out there to distract you anymore. Nowhere else to run to.

You inhale again.

“Thank you.” you say softly.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything as he rests his hands on his lap. You watch him intently as he gulps, his eyes glued in something ahead.

“So.” He starts, his voice as low as yours. This is painful. It was never your intention to put him in that situation, never. “I don’t want to take a drunk man seriously.”

It’s your turn to gulp. You really really don’t want to explain everything to him in detail. “Mike is a son of a bitch. He got it all wrong.”

“It seems that he got one thing right, though. Judging by Jungkook’s reaction.”

It’s getting difficult to breathe again.

Taehyung turns his head slowly to look at you.

“Are you guys…?”

You honestly feel like jumping out the window, but your feelings for Taehyung make you stay still. He’s a kind friend. He deserves to hear it clearly.

So you take a deep breath before speaking.

“Jungkook and I, we… we were never a real thing. Not really.” It hurts to say this out loud. It seems that you can still hear his broken voice…

There was never anything real happening, right? We were never real.

“B-But recently I realized that I have feelings for him.”

Taehyung nods slowly and sinks on the driver's seat. He rests his chin on his hand, letting a shaky deep breath out.

“Why did you call me today, then?”

“To tell you the truth.”

He gasps softly and shakes his head again. Taehyung has completely broken eye contact with you and his body language looks protective - building an almost visible wall between you and him in seconds.

“Wow. It seems that I was the one who got it all wrong.”

You feel like touching him to give him even a little bit of comfort, yet you know that you’re his main discomfort in the moment. You turn your body in his direction, pleading.

“Taehyung, it wasn’t meant to happen this way. I didn’t want to hurt you, not at all. I know that an apology won't be enough...”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He cuts you. His voice sounds strange, so different from how he has ever talked to you. He’s very quiet, but you can feel the anger and hurt lying underneath. “We never had anything anyway. I was the delusional one here.”

No, not again. You don’t think you can take more guilt for one night. You didn’t just delude him going on that date; you deluded him every time you talked, every time you texted each other. Taehyung saw something more when there was nothing at all - he felt something more, and you were too confused with your own feelings for Jungkook to notice what you were doing.

“Taehyung…”

“I’m feeling very ashamed right now.” He admits with a shaky exhale. “Could you…?”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but you know very well what he meant. Leave.

You nod and open the door into the cold night. You still stand there on the sidewalk hesitantly for a few seconds before whispering a shy “I’m sorry”. Taehyung doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look your way.

When you shut the door, you know very well that from now on, your friendship with Taehyung is also shut.

You’ll miss him really bad.

It feels like you can barely carry the weight of your own body as you slowly make your way to your apartment - which is weird, because you feel empty right now.

Your apartment isn’t as empty as you expected when you open the door, though. Seulgi is standing on the kitchen counter and she smiles wide when she sees you. She looks excited in a way she hasn’t been in months; it seems that she’s about to say something.

Her smile dies as she sees your puffy face and your red nose and eyes.

“Y/N, what happened…?”

For some reason, when you look at her, you start crying again.

Seulgi wides her eyes and runs to where you’re standing, shocked and confused - probably because you have never cried in front of her yet. Never.

“Oh my God, Y/N! What happened?!”

You can’t answer because the sobs won’t let you. You can just rest your face on Seulgi’s shoulder as she hugs you, patting your back. She is so confused that she can’t really think of anything else to do.

After a few minutes of restless crying, Seulgi manages to lead you to sit on the couch and runs back to the kitchen to take a glass of water. She sits by your side and hands you the glass, caressing your hair sweetly.

“Can you talk now, babe? What happened?” She asks again quietly as you try to drink a little bit of water.

You wipe the tears away once again and sniff. This place reminds you of him way too much. It feels that he belongs here, even though it’s not his home. And maybe… maybe he won’t ever step inside, ever again.

“I-It’s J-Jungkook.” it’s hard to speak between the sobs.

“Did you guys fight?” You nod weakly. “Was it that bad?”

Yes. Yes, it was.

After months of pretending, you finally open up to Seulgi. There’s no reason to keep this from her anymore. After Mike’s scandal, that’s probably everything the whole campus will be talking about in the next few days (you saw a lot of familiar faces at the bar).

It seems that Seulgi’s eyes will pop out of her face as you speak.

She stares at you, jaw dropped in pure shock.

“You and Jungkook what?!” is the first thing she exclaims. “Since when?!”

You rest your back on the couch and gaze at the ceiling. The sobs have finally stopped, at least. “Do you remember when I broke up with Mike? When we went to that club?”

“Yes, and you spent the night out…” Seulgi trails off as realization hits her. She stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “That guy you were talking about was Jungkook?!”

You just nod.

Seulgi gasps and rests her back on the couch right by your side, your arms touching. She’s speechless for a while.

“But, like… how many times?”

“I don’t know.” She gasps again.

“That many times?”

You nod. “It was almost daily at some point.”

It seems that she can’t close her jaw anymore. “Where?”

“Here. His apartment. His car.” You frown. “Sometimes a cheap hotel downtown, when you and Jimin were both home.”

Seulgi stays quiet for a little longer.

You side eye her. “You didn’t suspect?”

She shakes her head slowly. “I thought you guys were acting strange for a while now, but I never thought this was going on.” She looks back at you. “Did someone know?”

“Jimin caught us once.” you decide to omit where he caught you. It’s embarrassing to say that you fucked inside Joy’s bathroom out loud and it makes you feel even worse. “But he promised to not tell anyone."

Back to silence. You can almost hear the engines inside Seulgi’s brain trying to process everything you just told her.

“But why did you guys fight?”

You take a deep breath before telling her the rest. Taehyung, Joy, Mike, Yeri. It’s quite painful to explain, but it’s also relieving.

If you thought Seulgi looked shocked before, now it looks like she just found out that Santa is real.

She completely turns her body in your direction, eyes super wide. “Do you like Jungkook?”

You nod softly, staring at your own fingers.

“It’s more than just liking him.” You admit sheepishly.

Then she’s quiet for a long, long time. You decide to finally look up at her.

Now you’re surprised.

“Why the hell are you smiling?”

Seulgi hides her mouth with both hands - as if this wouldn’t let you see the big ass grin on her lips. “I’m sorry. It’s… it’s cute.”

“Cute?” you quirk one eyebrow. “My suffering is cute to you?”

“That’s not what I mean.” she waves her hand dismissively. “I always kind of shipped you two, okay? It’s just that you two looked really good together and you always had such good chemistry and all. But I tried to stop thinking this because, you know, I thought it was wrong to assume that a man and a woman can’t be just friends… and it never looked like you had feelings for him, not at all.”

You stare at her as if she has a second head growing now. “You shipped us?”

“You can’t judge me.”

You cross your arms and sink on the couch even more. This is kind of shocking. “You never thought I liked him?”

Seulgi shakes her head. “Never. Jungkook, though…”

You turn your head to look at her so fast that your neck almost breaks. “What about him?”

She hesitates a little bit before speaking. “Well, sometimes… sometimes I caught him looking at you in some type of way.”

There it is again. The fast beating of your heart. It’s ridiculous that, even though you’re this miserable, you still feel this spark of happiness inside of you.

For fuck’s sake, Y/N! I’m in love with you!

You press your lips tight in an attempt to hold back the uninvited smile. It’s not appropriate to feel happy now; it feels that you don’t even have the right to feel happy at all. But his confession is hitting you just now. Hitting you like a truck.

God, if only you could go back in time. If only you could just make him shut the fuck up and listen to you. Why did he have to be so damn dramatic?

I love you too, dumbass! Now stop being a cry baby and kiss me!

What if Jungkook never gives you a chance to explain yourself? He can be hard-headed when he wants to. What if Jungkook never lets you get close to him again, what if your intimacy finally dies, what if you get so distant that when you’re in the same room you can’t bear each other’s presence anymore? What if from now on, there won’t be any Jungkook to steal your fries when you’re not looking, or to let you steal his clothes even though he pretends he doesn’t know you’re taking them, or to help you understand a difficult assignment, or to annoy you because he’s bored at 4AM, or to tell you the things no one else would be brave enough to tell you or to just be there when you needed someone the most?

Your brain can’t even comprehend what life without Jungkook is.

A mix of despair and hurry makes you get up in a jump.

“I’m going to his apartment.” Your breath is irregular, adrenaline taking control of your actions. “I-I need to talk to him now.”

“Hey, hey!” Seulgi gets up in a jump and puts her hands on your shoulders, forcing you to stop. “Y/N, you’re not okay. And you said Jungkook is drunk. Do you really think you’ll manage to have a civilized conversation right now? He’s probably still angry, maybe he won’t even listen to you.”

“I don’t care. I’ll shout on his door until he listens to me.”

Seulgi holds you in place again when you try to free yourself from her grip. “This is not a good idea and you know it.” She looks at you very seriously. “Take a shower, Y/N. Go to sleep. Tomorrow you’ll both be cold-headed and able to talk.”

“B-But,” you feel the tears coming back. Fuck. You hold Seulgi’s arms weakly. “But he needs to know the truth. He needs to know I like him back.”

The black-haired girl frowns. “Like him back…?”

You nod and look down. “He… he said that he’s in love with me.”

“Really?!” Seulgi huffs and taps your forehead lightly. “Then why are you so desperate?! He loves you back, dummy!”

“But I’m scared, Seulgi.” You sniff.

She rolls her eyes and pushes you into another hug. “Everything will be okay, Y/N. There’s no need to be worried. You already know the most important. Tomorrow you go talk to him, alright?” She chuckles softly. “Never thought I’d see you acting like this.”

You sniff again. “Now you understand how it is to deal with a stupid lovesick roommate.”

“Ouch.” You notice how she pats your back a bit aggressively. “But for real, Y/N… I’ll always be thankful for what you did today to me and Irene. Even though it was none of your business. And I’ll probably beat you up if you ever intervene in my life like that again-”

“Wow, I really see how you’re thankful, Seul.” She chuckles again.

"And I'm kind of offended that you hid this from me for so long."

"We promised we wouldn't tell anyone about this!"

"Alright, alright." She sighs. “I love you so much, you crackhead. And Jungkook loves you, too. You don’t need to be sad anymore, okay? Just take a shower and go to sleep now.”

You nod weakly.

Maybe she’s right. You’ll have enough time to talk to him tomorrow.

But you don’t think you’ll get any sleep right now.

***

[you]: jungkook

[you]: can we talk?

[you]: we really really need to talk

[you]: can i go to your place?

[you]: please

[you]: i know you’re reading

[you]: stop ignoring me

[you]: jungkook

[you]: JUNGKOOK

You sigh heavily. This is so frustrating. He didn’t even leave you on read - you’re sure he’s just reading the texts on the notifications and swiping them away. He didn’t block your number, which is a good sign, but this is already getting on your nerves. You’ve been texting since early in the morning (because you couldn’t sleep) and it’s already 5PM.

“He’s ignoring my texts.” You whine to Seulgi as you enter the living room.

“You said he had things to do today, right? Maybe he’s actually busy.” She says as she checks her makeup on the mirror. It’s been a long time since you saw her getting all pretty like this; she did her nails, made curls on her hair, put on that green skirt she bought months ago but never wore it. This is what being happy and in love looks like. Pretty, well-dressed, nice hair, healthy skin and all.

Meanwhile, your hair looks like a bird nest, you’re wearing the ugly Naruto t-shirt you have since middle school, your entire face is swollen and you have bags under your eyes. This is also what being in love looks like, unfortunately.

“Why don’t you just go to his apartment already?”

“You told me not to do it.”

“I told you not to do it yesterday. Today he’s not drunk anymore.”

You cross your arms. “I’m… I’m still kind of nervous.”

Seulgi turns around and looks at you and quirks her eyebrow. There’s the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I never thought I’d see you nervous because of anyone. You look like a teenager…”

"I swear to God, if you say that you think I look cute one more time I'll fucking kill you."

Seulgi laughs and runs to you again, putting her hands on your shoulders. "Y/N, do you remember how you were always telling me that I was complicating simple things?"

"Yes."

She lifts her eyebrows. "So."

You roll your eyes and huff. "But it's not that easy!"

"Now you understand how I felt, huh?" Her eyes soften again. "For real, though. If you show up at his door he won't ignore you, I'm sure. Just go."

You sigh again and nod. "You're right. Just… let me build some courage, okay?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" She looks a bit worried. "I could go out with Irene another day."

"No, no. Go on your date." You wave your hands. "I'm not gonna die. Also, your pussy must be dusty after so long-"

She smacks your shoulder a bit too strongly as you let yourself laugh for the first time today.

When Seulgi leaves, you still stand in the middle of the living room for a good while. Like a Sim whose action has just been cancelled.

Whoever is playing you is really evil for putting all the wrong people in the wrong places past night.

You know that you’re not being rational. You should have gone to his house a long time ago… but something holds you back. Perhaps because now there’s no turning back. You know what you feel for Jungkook and you know what he feels for you - your relationship got completely out of its comfort zone, and now you can’t even pretend anymore. Things won’t ever be the same.

Maybe Jungkook is ignoring you because he’s embarrassed of what Mike did. He basically exposed you two in front of his friends. Sure, that’s none of no one’s business, but still… Jungkook didn’t want anyone to know about it in the first place.

You stare at your phone for a good while. Your reflection on the phone’s screen stares back at you in disgust.

For the hundredth time today, you unlock it and open Jungkook’s number. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard hesitantly.

[you]: jungkook i know youre mad at me and you have all the rights to be but

You frown and delete the text. It doesn’t sound good.

[you]: can you stop being dramatic and just text me back already?

You feel tempted to send this one, but if Jungkook’s angry, this will only make the situation worse. You sigh and try again one more time

[you]: i just really want to talk. you didnt let me speak last night. i know youre probably busy but please. i wont take much of your time

This one sounds about right. You tap the send button.

Then, your fingers mindlessly type one more text. It makes your heart beat fast just looking at it.

[you]: i love you too

You want to send this one so bad.

But you don’t.

Because this isn’t something to be told by text.

Coward! the angry voice of your consciousness yells in your mind. Stop being a coward! You’re an evolved human being, not a stupid teenager! Get this ass up the couch and go meet him!

You get up in a jump.

“I’m not a coward!” you say out loud. If you weren’t this out of your mind, you would have noticed how stupid it was to scream encouraging words by yourself in the living room.

But you don’t care right now.

You don’t care that your face is all puffy and the dark circles around your eyes make you look like a raccoon. You don’t care that you’re wearing your ulgy Naruto t-shirt with old ketchup stains, and you don’t care that you’re wearing the sweatpants that fall down your butt as you walk, and you don’t care that your hair looks like a living animal.

You just straight out leave your home and march to his. Flip flops and all.

Your heart beats at a stupid race as you walk, the sun already disappearing behind the buildings. The anxious part of your brain keeps reminding you that you don’t know what to say when you meet him and you don’t know what his reaction will be, but you shut this whiny voice up. Being with Jungkook always meant that you didn’t have to think a lot in the first place. Being with him is natural, it takes no effort. When you see him you’ll know what to say. You’re sure.

Yet, you can’t help but feel more and more nervous as you enter his apartment building (you never needed to ask permission to enter). You close your hands in fists, gulp multiple times, your heartbeat sounds like drums on your ears.

Your hand hovers over the door.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself. It’s real. It’s happening. Come on. Don’t be a coward.

After taking one more deep breath, you finally knock on the door.

There’s noise inside. Steps. Fuck, you’re shaking.

You hear the sound of the door unlocking and you hold your breath ready to face him-

Jimin.

He widens his eyes and blinks.

“Oh. Hi, Jimin.” you say awkwardly. Why is he looking at you this way? “Hm, is Jungkook home?”

Jimin looks hesitant for a moment.

“No.”

It’s your turn to widen your eyes. So that’s why he isn't texting you back. This makes you a bit relieved.

“Is… is he working?” You can’t hide your disappointment.

“Not yet. He starts tomorrow.”

You put your hands on your waist and walk from side to side as Jimin just watches you in silence.

“Jimin, at what time he’ll be home tomorrow? Do you think it’ll be too late in the night? I really need to talk to him, but that fucker keeps ignoring my texts.”

You don’t like the face Jimin is making now.

You really don’t like it.

He scratches the back of his neck and frowns. “He… he didn’t tell you?”

This makes you stop.

“Tell me what?”

Jimin exhales and gulps.

“He told you that he’ll start working for Mr. Choi, right? That director.”

“Yes.” Each word of his makes you more and more worried.

“So… this project he’s involved in…” Jimin licks his lips before continuing. “It’s overseas.”

You stare at him in silence as this information sinks in.

“Overseas?! Are you telling me he fucking left the country?!”

“Yes.”

You can’t believe what you just heard.

“B-But- yesterday Jungkook and I were planning to go out! This makes no sense!”

“Well,” Jimin looks hesitant again. “In fact, his flight is tomorrow morning, but he left earlier because we kind of had an argument.” He sends you an apologetic gaze. “He was drunk yesterday and all and I was trying to calm him down and I might have accidentally let it slip that I knew about you two, and this kinda pissed him off even more because, well, he was drunk and you know how Jungkook gets stupid when he’s drunk, so I think he left to his parent’s house and he’ll head to the airport tomo- wait, are you crying?!”

You sniff and hide your face behind your hands.

“Oh my God,” Jimin sounds confused and borderline panicked as he watches you start sobbing again. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“B-Because h-he-!” you can’t fucking speak anymore.

Jimin puts a hand on your back and guides you to sit on the couch. He brings some tissues and pats your back awkwardly as you cry and sob like stupid.

“W-Why didn’t he tell me he was l-leaving?” you ask yourself.

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, it’s not like he’s leaving forever. It’s just for this project. He’ll be back by the end of the week.”

“B-But he would’ve told me something so important!” You blow your nose. Jimin frowns. “I didn’t know this project was so huge! What, is it a movie or something?”

“It’s a music video.” You stare at Jimin in disbelief. “Jungkook has been around the recording studio with Namjoon and Yoongi a lot. He ended up meeting Mr. Choi, who has been directing some music videos for Big Hit Records’ artists. He liked Jungkook’s work and invited him to work as an assistant… I mean, the assistant of the assistant, as Jungkook himself said.”

You exhale, feeling your shoulders drop. “Why didn’t he tell me this?”

Jimin’s eyes soften. “Your friendship hasn’t been in the best shape these days, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

You rest your elbows on your legs and hide your face behind your hands again. You didn’t want to be crying this bad again, yet you just can’t stop. You don’t even know why you’re crying anymore. Jimin just caresses your back in silence as your sobs start quieting down.

“You were right,” you say at some point.

“What?”

“When you told me not to hurt him. I was hurting him and I didn’t even realize. I’m so stupid.”

Jimin tilts his head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Y/N. You were both stupid.” You side eye him.

“Jungkook said that he’s in love with me.” This makes him quirk his eyebrows.

“Oh.”

“You don’t look very surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Did… did he tell you?”

“No.”

“Was it that obvious?”

Jimin presses his lips together hesitantly. “Do you want me to comfort you or do you want me to be honest?”

“Be honest.”

“It was pretty fucking obvious that he’s in love with you. At least for me.”

You exhale and swipe your hands over your face. “I’m so stupid!” you repeat.

“Look, Y/N, to be honest, I think Jungkook is the most stupid. He was torturing himself with this fuck buddies thing, you know? He agreed to it in the first place. Everyone knows that this type of thing shouldn’t involve feelings, but he was the one to throw himself into it while he already had feelings.”

“It’s not like he’s the only one, though.”

Jimin seems about to say something, but he stops and stares at you, jaw-dropped.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

You rest your back on the couch. “I mean that I was also stupid enough to throw myself into it while having feelings.”

He’s quiet for a few more seconds.

“Do you mean that you like him back?”

You don’t answer.

Much like Seulgi, it looks like Jimin just discovered something world-shocking. “Since when? Have you liked him since the beginning?”

You sigh sadly.

“No, I haven’t. To me, it was just fun. Until I realized that he was getting too far from my reach and- and I realized that Jungkook has never been too far, never, and I don’t know what to do when he’s not around.” You sniff. You’re not talking to Jimin anymore at this point; you’re talking to yourself. “Y-You know, now that I think about it, I… I guess I understand why it was always so good. Not just because he fucks good or because of his big dick-”

“I don’t need to hear this, do I?” Jimin whines in disgust.

“-but because it was him.” One more tear rolls down your cheek. “It was good because it was with him.”

The way you always felt comfortable to be naked in front of him. How it was always lighthearted and fun and exciting. You had good sex with other people before, but never like this. Maybe because these other people didn’t have Jungkook’s handsome smile or because their eyes didn’t gleam with excitement the way his does or because they didn't smell like baby powder. Or maybe because it was never scary to be exposed in front of him because he already knew everything about you - there wasn’t really anything else to expose.

Jungkook felt like home.

Now, you feel homeless.

You wipe the tears away once more and look at Jimin-

“Why are you smiling?”

Doesn’t this scene look familiar?

“I’m sorry, it’s just that- wow, I don’t even know what to say.” Jimin doesn’t even try to hide his smile. “I’ve been waiting so long for this. Like, I kind of suspected that you had feelings for him, but I couldn’t be sure because you’re a hard bitch to read. To be honest, when I saw what you two were doing I wanted to kill you because you couldn’t be this blind to not realize how he feels about you-”

“Can you stop being honest for a moment?”

“Oh.” Jimin gulps, but he can’t stop smiling. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh again and cross your arms. “What if he never lets me explain myself, Jimin?”

“Stop the drama.” Jimin’s voice hardens suddenly. “You two are very similar in this sense, you know? I’m sure that Jungkook will listen to whatever you have to say. And he’ll be away for just four days! It’s not like he’s leaving forever.”

You sit there in silence for some moments. You’re sure that if you tell that you’re scared to talk to Jungkook, he will probably beat you up. He never had that much patience.

Jimin exhales heavily and gets up. “Wait a minute.” You watch as he walks into Jungkook’s empty bedroom, frowning. He stays there for a little while. When he comes back to the living room, he stops in front of you and hands you something.

“Jungkook’s gonna kill me when he finds out, but I don’t care.”

“What is this-?”

“Just take it already. And watch it when you’re back home. It’s so personal that I got uncomfortable the first time I watched it.”

“Then why are you giving it to me-?”

“Just fucking take it, Y/N!”

You take the small device before Jimin makes you swallow it.

He smiles sweetly.

“Everything will be fine, okay? Don’t worry. I’m always right.”

You stare at the small black pen drive in between your fingers.

This time, you genuinely hope he’s right.

You had honestly forgotten how it feels to get drunk.

At the same time that the dizziness feels familiar, it's also hitting you like a truck. Your friends didn't believe you when you said that you'd stop drinking, yet you've been loyal to your word. Of course, it's not like you didn't drink anything in all those months, but a single beer isn't the same as a pack of beer.

The way your body's responding to the alcohol in your system isn't right. Your stomach is already tangling around itself, you can't walk a straight line from the couch to the kitchen counter without feeling that there's holes opening on the floor, and your thoughts are more incomprehensible than usual. You'd usually not get drunk so fast - and surely not with just beer. You're the girl that was still very sober after many tequila shots that time a random date of yours was trying to get you drunk - he ended up drunk after a few shots, of course, and you left the son of a bitch alone while he vomited on himself.

Being in love sure has changed you a lot.

Look, it's not the first time you drink to forget about your problems. You've been doing that since high school and you're tired of hearing Jungkook say how this behavior is unhealthy (he's right, as usual). This time, though, you're not forgetting about your problems, you're just thinking about them more.

It doesn't help that you're listening to Seulgi's playlist on Spotify called "i miss you irene." You laughed your ass off when you found out she really made a heartbreak playlist and named it like that. "You're torturing yourself, Seulgi," you told her. I mean, why would someone sad listen to songs that will only make them more sad?

Well.

Here you are now, laying on the carpet as Spending my Time by Roxette is blasting on the speakers.

People really knew how to write heartbreak songs back in the 90s.

"Fuck you, Jungkook." you mumble, staring at the ceiling. "I'm shoving alcohol up my ass. You can't tell me what to do."

Jungkook, that fucker. Why didn’t he listen to you? Why didn’t you shut him up? If there was a way to go back in time you’d do it. You wouldn’t have kissed Taehyung, you wouldn’t let him get the wrong impression. You wouldn’t have encouraged Jungkook to be with Joy. Fuck, if you could go back in time you would have woken up that first morning in Jungkook’s bed and said that it meant a lot to sleep with him, that you were willing to not be just friends anymore.

(Of course, back then you didn’t feel that way, but you’re drunk and sad. Give yourself a break.)

Now, you can’t tell him what you feel because he’s somewhere overseas. He probably bought new clothes for such an important occasion. You imagine him being in a real set for the first time, his eyes gleaming as he watches the staff working, him trying to hold his excited smile back because he’s supposed to look professional and-

You sniff. You have a stuffy nose. Fuck.

You're so drunk that you can't really control your actions anymore. If Seulgi were here, she would probably stop you. But she's not here. She's somewhere with Irene.

So you take your phone, tap the Instagram app and start typing.

[@you]: hell o 😅😂🤣😊

[@you]: its been a log time how u doing???

[@you]: what if we meeet????

And unfortunately, she replies.

[@yerimiese]: hi 🤗

[@yerimiese]: yeah, sure!

[@yerimiese]: when can we meet?

It’s the back pain that makes you wake up the next day because you slept on the floor. You’re dizzy and confused, your poor brain trying to understand what’s happening, why you’re on the floor, why there’s so many empty beer cans around you and why your phone is flashing with notifications from last night.

When your sight finally adjusts to the light your phone screen produces, your eyes widen and you stand up in a jump, making your back ache even more.

Did you seriously DM Yeri and she seriously agreed to meet you?!

It’s currently 11:40 AM - and you agreed to meet at noon.

You run to your bedroom so fast that it makes you dizzy and you end up hitting your hip against the doorframe and it feels like you fucking broke it. You just have time to wear the first clean clothes you see laying around, tie your hair up and run to take the first bus you see.

You could’ve just told Yeri that you weren’t going anymore, of course, even though she agreed to meet you and it would’ve been kind of rude. You know it’s going to be the most awkward moment ever to see her after so long, especially now that you have feelings for her ex. Gosh - you’re already feeling so much embarrassment that you feel like jumping out of the bus and running back home. Why the fuck do you always end up doing stupid things when you’re drunk?!

But again - it’s that same chaotic side of you that makes you stay inside the bus and meet her. This chaotic side takes a good portion of your personality, it just gets more outgoing when you’re drunk. The same chaotic side that made you start some friends with benefits bullshit with your best friend just because you liked the idea of not being caught and the same chaotic side that made you passive aggressively flirt with Taehyung when you didn’t really want anything with him-

How the fuck did your friends even stand you?!

You’re forced to stop the existential crisis when you see that you arrived at the park. You feel a shiver run down your spine.

Yeri is sitting on the bus stop.

She looks prettier than you remember; her hair is short and blonde now, which makes her look more mature. Yeri was always one to walk around well dressed, but right now it feels almost humiliating that she's all pretty when you literally look like a scarecrow.

She smiles awkwardly and gets up. You didn't even say anything yet and it already feels awkward.

"I’m so sorry, Yeri,” is the first thing you say as you approach each other. “Did I make you wait too long?”

“No! It’s alright. I also got a little bit late.” She says, smiling prettily. Pretty is a word that overall describes her very well. “So, how you’re doing?”

“I’m doing fine!” You’re doing anything but fine at the moment. “What about you?”

“I’m fine, too.”

Silence.

My good Lord.

You start to regret all of your life choices right here and right now. You don’t see this girl in almost a year, you’re not close anymore, you know nothing about her life. Why the fuck did you even come anyway?! The awkwardness is so big that you can almost touch it.

There’s also a small and annoying thought that grows as you watch her - a thought you try very hard to ignore, but you can’t - that this is the girl Jungkook used to fuck before he started fucking you, that he used to go down on her and that he used to be inside of her and that those pretty lips of her once were around his cock and for some reason you start getting really angry-

“Do you wanna have a drink?” Yeri suddenly says.

You blink. “Hm… it’s 12PM.”

“And?” She quirks an eyebrow.

She’s perceptive, this one. Nothing’s better to break the ice than alcohol.

You don’t even know what you’re doing here anyway, so who cares?

“Sure. I know a bar nearby.”

Yeri slams the empty glass on the counter and stares at you, shocked.

“Mike did what?!”

You nod and swallow one more shot. Your tastebuds are so used (even calloused) from this bitter taste that you don’t even scowl as the drink slides down your throat. “Yeah. It seems that he was cheating on me for a while with that bitch. I caught them inside the lab.”

Yeri stares ahead. She looks speechless. “I will be honest… I heard that he was cheating on you, but I never thought this happened.” She shakes her head slowly. “Why the fuck were they inside a lab anyways? Are they stupid?”

“The lab was deactivated. That part of the science building was being renovated.” You sigh. Reviving those memories is kind of painful right now, especially after what Mike did to you some nights ago. Honestly, he could die and you wouldn’t care. “I was looking for him. His friends told me he went in that direction… well, kinda weird that they snitched on him like that. Maybe they really didn’t know. Anyways, I still don’t know how they got the key to the lab.”

Yeri nods. “Wow… I am really, really shocked. You guys were a pretty couple.” She gesticulates with her hand. “One more shot, please.”

“Me too, please.” You say.

The bartender looks at you two with visible worry. There’s no one else in the bar - who the fuck drinks so much this early? Wait, why is this bar even opened this early? - so he’s obviously hearing your whole conversation. You wonder what’s his opinion on your fucked up love life.

“Are you sure, girls? Shouldn’t you slow down a little bit?” He asks hesitantly.

You wave your hand dismissively. “Nah, we’re good.” You’re still not dizzy, just a little talkative. Getting drunk yesterday seemed to awaken all of your high tolerance superpowers. Pretty Yeri also isn’t one to get drunk that easily.

“We’re strong girls.” She reassures. The bartender shrugs as he prepares two more shots. “You seemed to like him a lot.”

“I did.” You admit.

“And he seemed to like you, too. I never expected that. Well… to be honest, Jungkook sometimes told me that he didn’t like Mike and that he was sure that he wasn’t a good guy.”

The sudden mention of his name makes you freeze. You realize that Yeri freezes, too. It seems that she’s also surprised for bringing him up like this. Yeri looks down at the new shot the bartender just placed in front of you two.

“It seems that he was right. As usual.” She finishes in a much lower voice, drinking her shot in one go.

This single sentence makes you realize that “Jungkook” is still a delicate topic for her. Of course it’d be - you don’t know much about their break up, but you sure know it was anything but friendly. Jungkook got pretty fucked up for a few weeks after their break up - and the fact that he refuses to talk about it to this day is enough of an indication.

Shit.

“Anyways, it didn’t stop there.” You decide to go back to your suffering for now, so she can get distracted. “The day before yesterday I bumped into him. He was drunk and made a scandal. Called me a bitch in front of everyone.”

Yeri gasps and looks at you wide eyed. “What? Please, tell me someone punched the fuck out of him!”

“Yeah, my friend did before I could.” You’re not telling her which friend, of course. “It was satisfying. Still made me feel really bad, though.”

“You shouldn’t. You did nothing wrong, Y/N. He’s the son of a bitch here.” Yeri reassures.

You nod and drink. “But enough of talking about my depressing love life. What about you?”

Yeri sighs, holding the small cup with both hands. “I’m doing fine, I guess. Didn’t really get serious with anyone yet. I’m seeing a guy, though. I don’t think I like him yet, but he’s about right. Who knows?” She says, shrugging.

You nod slowly. We’re getting into dangerous waters now. “I’m glad we’re both moving on, I guess.”

Yeri goes quiet for a while.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

A deep silence settles after this. You stare at the empty cup blankly, feeling the tension building up.

"I… have to be honest." Yeri starts quietly. "It was surprising that you called me after so long." She taps her nails on the counter slowly. "And I have the feeling that you called me for a very specific reason."

You nod slowly. She's not stupid. "You're right."

Yeri hesitates for a second. "You didn't… Jungkook didn't ask you to come here to talk to me, right?"

You almost gasp. Jungkook doesn't even dream that you're with her right now. "No, no. He didn't. You know I'm kinda nosy, but I have my limits too."

Yeri quirks her eyebrows and nods. You really hope that this tiny thing you saw deep in her eyes wasn't disappointment. You really hope that deep down Yeri doesn't still like him.

"So… why did you call me, then?"

You sigh. She came all this way just to meet you, so you have to at least be honest right now.

"I was drunk yesterday when I texted you."

"Oh." Yeri widens her eyes. "I thought there was something wrong with you by the way you were texting."

You chuckle. "But… I did call you because of Jungkook, somehow." You say carefully, She stiffens. "I know it's kinda cruel to do this. If you want to simply leave or if you want to slap me, I won't judge you. But… we had a really ugly fight these days and I don't know what to do. I was hoping that maybe… maybe you could help me understand him."

Yeri goes very, very quiet after this.

"Did you guys fight because of me?" She asks after a while.

"No and yes." Yeri was one of the things that got you overthinking anyways. "I… I really need to know. Again, you don't need to tell me if you don't want to. But… why did you guys break up?"

Yeri turns her head slowly to look at you. There's something very serious and hardened on her eyes.

"He never told you." It wasn't a question. You shake your head. "Well, I figured he wouldn't." She looks back to the cup between her hands; you can see she's thinking hard. "Y/N, I always admired your friendship with him. What you have is something truly special. Maybe you won't want to know why. Maybe I don't want to tell you because I don't want to destroy your friendship."

"My relationship with Jungkook won't ever go back to what it used to be anyways. I don't care."

Yeri looks surprised. She still hesitates for some moments - what makes your blood boil in expectation - but finally sighs and nods.

"Alright, then." She crosses her arms. "I broke up with him because of you."

You stare at her, jaw dropped.

"What? What did I do?" You ask, genuinely confused.

"You did nothing." She chuckles drily. "That's why I couldn't hate you, you know. And I tried to hate you really hard."

You don't know what to say. Some girls Jungkook had some sort of relationship with were very jealous of you, you knew, but Yeri was different. "Were you… were you jealous of me and him? But Yeri- you know we weren't like that."

This is not a lie. You weren't like that while they still dated. You were too stupidly in love with Mike to notice the person that was standing right by your side all along.

"I know." She nods. "I know you didn't. But Jungkook did."

You freeze.

"What?"

Yeri finally looks at you again - clear sadness on her eyes.

"Jungkook loves you. Not in a way a friend does."

You’re absolutely speechless.

Your heart is beating so fast that you think you’re about to faint. Your brain malfunctions and it seems that you lost the ability to speak for a few moments. This shouldn’t shock you - Jungkook confessed his feelings himself not long ago, and Jimin also said how he knew about Jungkook’s feelings - goddamn, even Seulgi noticed it a little bit. But back then? When he was still dating Yeri?

“B-But Yeri-” you hate the way you’re stuttering and you hate how Yeri is telling you something she obviously doesn’t like, but you still feel so fucking happy and fuzzy inside. “Jungkook was in love with you. I’m sure.”

“I thought so, too. And he thought he was in love with me.” Yeri stares ahead again, and in this moment you realize that yes, it still hurts her. “You know… Jungkook was too much like a dream.” She chuckles to herself, as if she can’t believe in what she’s saying. “He was perfect in every sense. His good looks, the way he was always so sweet… God, even the way he’s in bed.” Yes, he’s unbeatable in bed, you want to agree. “Too perfect to be true.”

Yeri goes quiet again for a while. She stares at the cup as if it’s showing her something important she can’t look away from.

“I started to realize why it was so perfect.” Her voice sounds painfully fragile. “He was trying too hard. Always trying his best. At first I thought that it was a good thing… We all want someone that’s always trying their best for you, right? But then… then, I started to watch how he acted when he was around you. Y-You know what’s worst in all this? It’s not like you two gave me actual reason to be jealous. You were never touchy around each other. You were even dating back then, and you two avoided going out together because Mike and Jungkook never got along well. I know it.” She sounds like she wants to cry. It makes you feel really, really bad.

“But… fuck, it was the way Jungkook acted with you, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, that smile he just showed when you were around. With you, he wasn’t trying anything. He didn’t need to try. I saw how he was so comfortable around you and… well, I didn’t need to be a genius to understand that he was so stupidly in love with you that it got him blind.” Yeri inhales and exhales deeply. “Jungkook was too much like a dream. But everyone has to wake up sometime, and I didn’t want to be there when he woke up from his. So I left him before I could get any more hurt.”

You can just stare at her, jaw dropped, adrenaline making your breathing shaky.

“Yeri, I never… I didn’t…” you stupidly stutter.

“I know you didn’t.” She nods. “I even pitied Jungkook, you know. Because he didn’t want to see what he really felt, and because you obviously didn’t feel the same.” Yeri chuckles. “That’s why I can’t hate you. That’s also what gave me some sense of revenge. At least he’s suffering a little bit.”

You’re both very, very quiet for some time.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly. She doesn’t know you’re apologizing for putting her under the torture of telling those memories that are still painful for her. You weren’t expecting that Yeri still felt so affected by her past relationship even after so long.

“You don’t need to apologize.” She shakes her head slowly. “It wasn’t meant to be. That’s all. We would both keep suffering like that.” Yeri exhales again and looks at you. “Well… I guess I’m going now. I really hope I didn’t completely kill your relationship with him.”

She didn’t.

She quite helped to save it, actually.

Yeri takes some money from her purse and puts it over the counter, paying for her drinks. As she gets up from the stool, you say:

“Thank you for telling me, Yeri. I really wish you all the happiness you deserve.”

The blonde girl opens a small smile. You see why Jungkook fell - well, at least thought he fell - for her. Maybe Yeri doesn’t know it, but she also looks like a dream. You just hope she’ll find someone that will wake her up to see the most beautiful, warm and lovely reality.

“Thanks. See you around.”

She leaves.

You just sit there, all alone, staring at the counter.

Well- not exactly alone.

The bartender is furiously side-eyeing you.

“What?” You ask drily.

He presses his lips together. “I don’t think I should say anything…”

You tilt your head. “Go ahead. You heard everything anyway.”

The bartender stops in front of you. There’s something wise about him. That’s probably the result of hearing hundreds and hundreds of love stories every night - day, in your case.

“That dude you guys were talking about,” he says. “Your friend. You like him, right?”

You stare at him seriously. “Why would you think that?”

“Because your eyes lit up so much as she talked that I thought you were going to explode.”

Fuck. You can’t even pretend anymore. You avoid his gaze, embarrassed, and nod. “I do.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Then, and excuse my intrusive ass, what the fuck are you waiting for?” He almost looks annoyed, as if he’s having to explain something painfully obvious. “Go after him, woman!”

You stare at him.

He’s right.

What the fuck are you waiting for?

Oh, right. You’re waiting until he comes back, because he’s fucking overseas.

It makes you so, so angry. After everything you just heard, after everything you’re feeling right now, you wanted nothing more but to run to him and make him listen to you. You want to see him, to hug him, to make him understand that he’s your most important person in the world, that you can’t see yourself in a world where he isn’t around.

But guess what - you’ll have to wait three days to meet him.

You look so grumpy on your way back home that people deliberately avoid looking at you. Seulgi and Irene are there when you arrive; Seulgi looks worried, Irene looks confused, you just decide to say you’re alright and lock yourself inside your bedroom because you can’t physically look at a happy couple right now.

You throw yourself on the bed and scream against a pillow.

If someone told you you’d be feeling so many things when all of this started, you wouldn’t have believed. You were always someone to continuously keep the fuck it button pressed - or at least, you pretended you did. Like that, you could trick your heart into believing you weren’t hurt by some jerk who cheated on you, that you didn’t feel like a piece of shit for drowning your problems in alcohol, that you didn’t care that most of your “friends” just cared about you when it came to parties and having fun, that there was never really anyone that truly took you seriously in a relationship.

It’s really easy to pretend those things aren’t real. But it’s just like Yeri said - one moment, everyone has to wake up. To you, waking up means facing the consequences of your actions, to face your feelings.

And it really hurts right now.

It also reminds you that the person you’d usually let your guard down for was Jungkook. You were never embarrassed to be weak in front of him - and it was the other way round. You were always in tune. Always in synergy.

This makes you remember the little black pen drive laying on the nightstand.

You sit in a jump, taking your laptop and the pen drive. Just feeling the device between your fingers makes you feel nervous… that’s why you still didn’t check what’s inside of it yet. Jimin said it was something personal. You’ve been hesitating to see whatever it is.

It can’t be bad, can it?

You plug the pen drive in your laptop.

The files tab pops up. There’s actually only one file inside the pen drive - a video. It’s called euphoria final test i swear to god.

You chuckle. This is so Jungkook.

Your finger still hovers over the touchpad hesitantly. It looks like one of Jungkook’s test videos - you’ve seen plenty of those. Nothing new. Nothing to be scared of. You double click.

The video opens up and fills up the screen.

It’s a vertical video recorded on selfie mode. Jungkook is walking down the university hall; he has a playful smile on his lips. The video shows you walking by his side, a grumpy expression on your face.

You remember this. He actually posted this on his Instagram stories around one year ago. His hair was way shorter back then. Why does he still have something so silly?

“Y/N’s team lost the championship.” Jungkook says. Of course he looks happy. He roots for the rival team. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Fuck you.” Is all you say.

Jungkook laughs loudly.

Another video.

A song kicks in.

It starts with the sweet melody of a piano. You frown, not recognizing this song at all.

Then the voice of the singer kicks in, and you feel your whole body freezing.

It’s Jungkook’s voice.

He sounds soft and angelic as you’ve always known - only this time, through professional mics and mixing. This itself is already shocking. You always felt blessed for being one of the few people to know of Jungkook’s singing ability, but this is different. He sounds like a professional singer, someone that makes a living out of it.

You remember Namjoon’s voice.

Hah, Jungkook didn’t tell you yet? He has been working with us! We’re doing a good job. He lent his voice to record some demos.

You then remember what Jungkook told you.

I… I kind of helped them write a song. I felt kind of inspired. It was just for fun, though.

Maybe I’ll let you listen to it any other day.

Is… is this the song he was talking about?

Jungkook’s sweet voice sings:

You are the sunlight that rose again in my life

A reincarnation of my childhood dreams

I don’t know what these emotions are

Am I still dreaming?

Your breathing is irregular. Your fingers are shaking slightly.

Because as if his voice wasn’t enough to singlehandedly make you feel completely lost, the video is still passing on.

Videos of you.

You sitting on the university’s library, reading a book. You crying that time you ate tacos that were way too spicy, Jungkook’s laughter from behind his phone ringing softly over the song. You playing Just Dance with Seulgi, ridiculously trying to follow the doll’s moves on the TV. You running after Jungkook down the hall as he laughs because he stole your last cookie. You dancing around your kitchen as you prepare breakfast. You and him singing to Staying Alive that night at Burger King, both of you visibly drunk. Your shocked reaction as you watched a plot twist unfold on the TV - an anime he insisted so much for you to watch that you ended up watching.

I hear the ocean from far away

Across the dream, past the woods

I'm following this clarity

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

You remember some of those videos. He posted some of them on his Instagram or Snapchat. Some of them you sent him yourself. Some of them, though, you had no idea that existed. Videos of you doing… nothing. Scrolling down your phone. Reading a book. Watching TV. Some of them look more professional - those are from the times you accepted to be his “model” so he could test his techniques, yet he never let you see any of those videos.

Just you.

You, you, you and you.

Were you wandering around

Looking for an erased dream too?

It’s different from what destiny suggests

We share the same painful views

Won't you please stay in my dreams

Yes, both of you had erased dreams. Your erased dream was Mike. His erased dream was Yeri.

Jungkook thought that you would never be more than friends. What he felt, though, was different from what he thought destiny suggested.

The way you drifted apart from each other. The pain you went through, watching your friendship slowly die. You shared the same painful views.

You don’t know at what moment you start to cry, but now, tears are freely dripping down your cheeks.

Even if the earth crumbles

No matter who shakes this world

Don't let go of my hand

Please don’t wake me up from this dream

You remember that time you were looking at the pictures Jungkook took at a wedding, and you noticed how the groom looked at his future wife with overflowing love. You wondered to yourself if someone has ever looked - or ever would - look at you the same way.

Well, sometimes… sometimes I caught him looking at you in some type of way.

It was the way Jungkook acted with you, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, that smile he just showed when you were around.

You’re not seeing him in this video.

Yet, it shows how Jungkook sees you. And you can’t help but think… in his eyes, you look beautiful.

He sings beautifully. Passionately.

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

Euphoria

Close the door now

When I’m with you I’m in utopia

As the song slowly ends, the screen shows a last shot from a very old video you didn’t even remember. It’s from your graduation day from high school… actually, a video your mother recorded. The difference is clear from how shaky the camera is. You can’t help but think you look too goofy in your old school uniform.

“Y/N, it’s your graduation day! Next year you’ll live by yourself in a big city!”

“Thanks God. Less bills to pay for,” you hear your father jokingly say somewhere out of sight. You roll your eyes, but still laugh.

“Thank you so much, Dad. I see how much you love me.”

“But I love you, sweetie!”

“Shut up, darling. I’m trying to do an interview.” Your mother shushes him. “So, how do you feel, Y/N?”

You look thoughtful for a moment. That stupid teenager on the screen looks so full of hopes and courage. So young, so naive. “I’m a little bit scared, but I’m excited.” You say.

Then you smile, as if remembering something very important.

“Besides, Jungkook will live next to me, so I’ll be alright.”

The video ends.

You just sit there, sobbing uncontrollably for the next few minutes.

When you clicked that file, you never expected this.

You never expected to feel so loved with just a video.

At the same time, it makes an urge - the strongest urge you’ve ever felt in your life - flow through you. You need to tell Jungkook how wrong those lyrics are.

He doesn’t have to keep dreaming anymore. You’ve woken up from your own dream - and you’re ready to show him the real world in which you love him back, unconditionally.

Irene and Seulgi look worried as they see you marching out of your bedroom, sniffling, tears streaming down your cheeks. Before Irene can say anything, you put both hands on her shoulders and look at her seriously.

“Remember when you said you owed me one? That you’d help me with whatever I needed?”

Irene starts to look scared. “Yes.”

“Were you serious?”

“Of course!”

“Good. Then I need you to buy a flight ticket for me. Today.”

“Are you sure that’s the right hotel, Jimin?” you ask out of breath, your phone almost falling as you balance it between your ear and your shoulder, your hands busy holding your passport and flight ticket. You, Irene and Seulgi run inside the airport, looking like three crazy women in a dangerous mission - which isn’t too far from reality.

“I’m sure, Y/N!” Jimin says through the phone, starting to sound a little bit annoyed. “God, you asked me this a hundred times!”

“But I need to be sure! Can’t you ask him once again?”

“He will start to get suspicious. I already had to make up one hell of an excuse to make him tell me which room he’s in without sounding creepy.”

“Room 23, right?”

“Room 32!”

“So, is he sure that’s the right hotel?” Irene asks.

“Yes.”

She clicks something on her phone. “Good. It’s not too far from the airport. You’re lucky there was a room available!”

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” Seulgi asks, looking borderline panicked. “You’re not going to die if you wait a few days until he comes back.”

“Yes, I am going to die if I wait any longer.”

“So dramatic.” Jimin says over the phone. You can even see him rolling his eyes.

“Shut up!”

“Why are you telling me to shut up?!” Seulgi asks, offended.

“No! I was talking to Jimin!” You finally hold the phone with your hand. “Okay, Jimin. I’m hanging up. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Don’t fucking die out there.” Jimin says, but you can hear the smile on his voice. “Good luck!”

You shove the phone inside your back pocket and turn around to look at them.

“Y/N, I don’t trust you alone in a foreign country.” Seulgi says. She does look panicked.

“I don’t trust myself either, but it’s alright.” You reassure her - but she only looks more nervous. You didn’t even bring a suitcase, choosing to just take a backpack with a few clothes and extremely necessary items.

Irene takes something from her wallet and hands it to you. “Here’s my credit card. I will text you the password later.”

You widen your eyes. “Irene, that’s not necessary…”

She shrugs in a dismissing demeanour. “Of course it is. How will you survive out there without money?” This kinda reminds you that this is only one of her credit cards and that whatever money you spend won’t really mean much to her. Still, you take the card hesitantly, making a mental promise to not spend more than the utmost necessary. “Your room is booked. You can ask a taxi to take you directly to the hotel. There’s no way to get lost.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that…” Seulgi says under her breath.

“Seulgi, I will fucking beat you up.”

“Sorry! I’m nervous!” She admits.

Your gaze softens. “I promise I won’t die, okay?”

She steps closer and hugs you tightly. “Be safe. Huh, you’re so stupid, but this is so romantic! It feels like I’m watching a Netflix romcom movie in real life!”

“Why do you always have to bring Netflix up?” Irene wonders under her breath. Seulgi sends her a menacing glare as she steps back again. “Anyways, if you need anything, please call us. Call us as soon as you get out of the plane. Keep us informed.”

“Okay.” You jump over to hug Irene; she gets visibly surprised, not really the type of person to appreciate a lot of physical contact. “Thank you so much, Irene! You’re saving my life!”

“The same way you saved mine.” She giggles. “Now go, unless you want to lose your flight!”

You wave them goodbye one last time before walking to the check-in area.

Yeah. You know that this is very, very stupid to do. You could wait three days. But when your impulsive, chaotic side takes control, you can’t really hold it back. That’s why you get inside the plane even though you’re really fucking scared of flights, going to a country you know absolutely nothing about.

But it’s alright. You’ll be with Jungkook, so it’s alright. Even if he rejects you - it’s alright.

Your chaotic side says that you’ll annoy him until he at least listens to you - and this time, you don’t think your chaotic side is all that wrong.

You get lost.

Which is dumb, because there were lots of information boards around the airport. Maybe that’s why you got lost - too much information, your peanut-sized brain couldn’t process all of that. After walking around the gigantic place for a good thirty minutes, only stopping to buy something very important on a vending machine, you find the exit and the taxi area. The taxi driver sees how desperate you are and it looks like he pities you.

Irene was right; the hotel is only twenty minutes away from the airport. It’s not a super hotel, but it looks like it’s much more expensive than you’d be able to pay (you couldn’t even pay for the flight tickets anyway).

You get more and more and more and more nervous at each passing minute. You feel like you’re about to fucking explode as the receptionist types something you can’t see. When he gives you the key card for your room, you feel goosebumps run down your spine.

It’s now.

Getting inside the elevator, you press the button to Jungkook’s floor. You don’t even want to drop your things in your own room before meeting him. You’re so nervous that, if you wait a little bit more, you’re sure that you’ll pass out.

Every step of yours on the corridor’s carpeted floor echoes in your ears. Your heart beats furiously. Your hands are trembling slightly and you feel cold in your stomach.

Room 23.

You stand in front of it, frozen.

Oh my God.

As expected, you don’t know what you’ll say when you see him. You tried to plan a speech the entire flight as a way to forget you were thousands of feet away from the ground and how fucking scared it made you, but you couldn’t think of anything.

You inhale and exhale deeply. It’s alright. It’s Jungkook who you’re talking about. You’ve always known how to act around him. Right now it’s no different.

Finally, you knock on the door.

“J-Jungkook?” You call, your voice failing slightly.

No response.

Weird. Jimin made sure that Jungkook wouldn’t be working anymore at this hour.

“Jungkook, it’s me. Can we… can we talk, please?” You say a little bit louder, knocking on the door once more. You can't hear any noise coming from inside the room. Come on, Jungkook. You have to open the door before any security guard can drag me away from here.

Your breathing is difficult. Your hands are trembling slightly. It feels that the floor is opening holes under your feet.

"Jungkook, I know you're mad at me. But please… please, let me at least explain myself." It's stupid how you already feel your eyes welling up with tears. Since when you became such a cry baby? Your chest tightens, hurts. "Y-You can't just leave me outside your room like this. Stop being a jerk. I need to tell you… I-I need to tell you that I lo-"

"Y/N?"

You freeze.

You turn around, looking at the exact opposite room in the hallway.

It's him.

Jungkook still holds the doorknob, indicating that he just opened it. He's barefoot, wears shorts and a long sleeved shirt, all black. His damp hair falling slightly over his eyes indicates that he probably just took a shower.

His eyes are so widened that it looks like they're about to pop out of his face.

He sincerely looks at you like you're the weirdest thing he has ever seen in his life.

"W-What-" he stutters, looking like he can't form a coherent sentence. "What the fuck?!"

You're still frozen in place.

You turn around again, looking at the door you were knocking on.

Room 23.

You look back at Jungkook again - the sign on his door.

Room 32.

"Oh." Is all you can say.

Shame suddenly makes your shoulders weight. You really, really hope there's no one inside Room 23.

You both stand there, staring at each other with widened eyes like two scared chipmunks. Your neck and face feels very, very hot.

Jungkook looks like he's recovering from the shock. He didn't hear anything you said, apparently.

"W-What exactly are you doing here?" Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side. He frowns, looking at you like you're an exotic species.

"Oh." You repeat. Your brain is malfunctioning. You step closer, simply showing him the plastic bag you're holding. "I-I brought you this."

His eyes go from you to the plastic bag and to you again.

"It's banana milk." You explain hurriedly. He widens his eyes slightly. "I mean- it's this country's equivalent of banana milk, I guess. It's the closest thing I could buy in the vending machine."

Jungkook raises his hand slowly and takes it. He's moving carefully, as if this exotic species can jump on him and bite him at any moment.

"Did you take a 5 hour flight just to buy me banana milk?"

"Yes." You agree mindlessly. You feel your entire body burning now. "A-And I also came here to talk, because your dramatic ass didn't let me speak the other day."

Jungkook quirks one eyebrow and crosses his arms slowly. "Alright. I'm listening to you now."

He stares at you very seriously.

His gaze is overwhelming. It almost feels that you're getting small under his eyes. Gosh - you've been wanting to see him for days, but right now, when he's right in front of you, you can't say a damn thing, your brain completely overheating, your braincells melting. You thought you'd know how to act when you met him - but ha, guess what? You don't.

And that motherfucker is just standing there, waiting for you to speak. Just staring at you.

You hold the doorknob in a swift moment and close the door on his face, just letting enough of it open so he can still hear you.

"What-?" He gasps from inside the room.

"Shut up, okay?! I just can't speak looking at you right now." You hold the doorknob so tightly that your knuckles get white. You hate the way your voice is trembling and you hate the way your sight can't really focus on anything around you - that's just how nervous you are.

Jungkook doesn't say anything. You feel him leaning on the other side of the door, waiting patiently.

You inhale and exhale heavily.

"You got so fucking angry at me when I said you were my best friend that night.” You start, not really knowing where you’re going with this. You don’t even know if it’s possible to convey everything you feel through words only. “But you know, it’s- it’s true. You are my best friend. But what you didn’t let me explain is that you’re not just my best friend.”

Your heartbeat thunders on your ears at each word. You can’t see Jungkook’s expression, and at the same time it helps you keep talking, it also makes you more anxious.

“Y-You’ve been with me through everything. You were there with me when I broke my arm when we were kids, and you were there to help me when I thought I wouldn’t get into college, and you were there with me to celebrate when I got into college. It’s even embarrassing that you’ve seen all of my lowest moments.” You rest your head on the door, staring at the carpet under your feet. The first tears roll down your cheeks. “You know everything about me and sometimes I hate it. You’re like… fuck, I hate how cheesy this sounds, but you’re like a part of me. A-And you’re the best part, because- I don’t know how to explain, but you’re always the one making my average self want to be more.”

Normal you would never say something like this. You’re far from being an emotional person and you’re shit with words. But right now you’re crying and sniffling and trembling and you can’t shut your mouth anymore.

“Please, you have to believe me. I would never purposefully hurt you. Whenever I see you sad I die a little bit inside, and to know that I was the cause of your sadness is fucking killing me. It’s killing me.” You sob. “I don’t want to be the cause of your sadness ever again. I-I want to return all the good things you’ve done to me. So, please… I know I’m a pain in the ass to deal with, b-but if you’d let me be by your side… if you’d just bear me a little bit longer until I become someone that you’d want to be with-”

Jungkook opens the door.

You hear him whispering under his breath wait, wait, wait, interrupting you. Gently, he puts his hands on your arms and pulls you inside the room, closing the door right after, so now your back is against the door - right in front of him.

He stares at you, lips parted, eyebrows slightly knitted together. He looks stunned. Very, very confused. And very hopeful.

His starry eyes are welling up with tears.

“What… what do you mean with all this?” Jungkook asks softly. He almost sounds scared. “What do you really mean?”

You stare at him in silence. His beautiful face. His beautiful self.

You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“I love you.” you confess, your voice cracking slightly. “I-I fucking love you. I’m sorry that I took so long to realize.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen.

The next thing you know is that his lips are against yours.

He drops the plastic bag full of banana milk on the floor, holding the back of your neck with one hand and pressing your body against his with the other. He tastes like toothpaste and tears; you can barely breathe, adrenaline rushing through your bloodstream, your fingers grabbing the strands of his damp hair.

When he finally lets go of your lips, you’re both out of breath and trembling.

Then, he smiles - and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

He wipes the tears away from your cheeks as his own cheeks are wet with tears. His eyes are smiling too, and you think that you want to keep that smile forever.

“Y-You have… you have no idea of how long- how long I dreamed of hearing this,” Jungkook says quietly, his voice cracking a little bit. He giggles, frowning his eyebrows slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing right in front of him. “I can’t believe you took a fucking plane to bring me banana milk! How can I stay mad at you when you do this type of thing?!”

You start giggling too. His warmth, his scent of baby powder, the way his eyes are shining as much as diamonds - this is something you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t know you’d ever have.

“God- I fucking love you, too.”

Your heart feels filled.

You smash your lips on his again.

It’s desperate and intense and makes your senses completely dizzy.

You feel the backpack dropping from your shoulders right before Jungkook lifts you up as if you weigh nothing and you circle your legs around his waist. Without breaking the kiss, he carries you to where the bed is, sitting down with you on his lap.

Adrenaline and excitement washes over your body in anticipation. It’s even familiar at this point - his gaze clouded with want, your heavy breathings, hands grabbing and caressing everywhere they can find. Jungkook moans quietly against your lips as you grip his hair tightly, humping your clothed core very slowly against his growing erection.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispers in that deep voice that makes goosebumps run down your skin, his lips against your neck as he kisses and sucks it. You giggle.

“We fucked just a few days ago,” you point out.

“I miss this everyday. All the time.”

You hold his face, forcing him to look at you.

You might be shit at words, you might not know how to express yourself that well. But one thing you know better than anyone else is how to make him feel good.

So, softly, you push him back until you’re hovering above him and he’s propped up by his elbows.

You don’t say anything. You just smile and start to take his shirt off.

He doesn’t complain.

Your hands roam his exposed skin as you kiss and suck his neck gently. While your lips are still glued on his neck, one of your hands travels to caress his clothed member. Quiet moans come from the back of his throat. Slowly, you kiss your way down his chest and stomach - until you’re kneeled in front of his opened legs.

Jungkook is breathing heavily in anticipation. Maybe it’s the sole sight of you biting your bottom lip as you manage to get his member free from his boxers and shorts that makes it throb. He has to gulp when he sees you spitting on his dick, the feeling of your spit trickling down his member making goosebumps roam his skin.

You hold his member and start to bump it slowly at first - which makes waves of pure pleasure wash over Jungkook, stunning his senses. He hisses when your lips envelop the head of his cock, sucking it. His eyes are half lidded, lips slightly parted, Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps. He looks so beautiful as he’s being pleasured.

You start taking more of him inside your mouth until you feel him on your throat; Jungkook moans louder. You bob your head up and down his length, taking turns between sucking and bumping his member with your hand, your spit making it easier and producing obscene sounds. Jungkook hisses and groans and moans and then he’s grabbing your hair, making you take more of him inside your mouth. You don’t complain. You just want to make him feel the best he has ever felt.

This time, though, it’s being much quieter than what it usually is. Jungkook just swears a little under his breath. No dirty talking.

His face and neck are covered with blush, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead, his face distorted with pure pleasure. His moans are getting more constant and louder. You wouldn’t mind if he cummed in your mouth right now, but Jungkook hisses and takes his hand off your hair.

“Oh my God- stop. Stop. Come here, babe.”

You decide to just do as he said. As soon as you prop your knees on each side of him, Jungkook sits up again and starts to get rid of your clothing hurriedly - first your pants, then your coat and shirt. When he unclasps your bra, he immediately takes one of your breasts on his mouth, making you moan quietly. His hand pushes your panties to the side to meet your already wet core; you moan louder as he gently caresses it. You unconsciously start moving your hips against his hand, his movements adding more pressure over your clit, his lips still licking and sucking your breasts.

Jungkook decides this was enough to get you wetter. He pushes your panties to the side, holds both sides of your hips as you guide his member to your entrance.

Both of you moan as he enters.

You close your eyes tightly, the feeling of being stretched by him so familiar and so delicious. Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you start to guide yourself up and down on him, never breaking eye contact, watching him carefully. Every deep moan coming from him makes you shiver. The pleasure, the sound of skin hitting skin - how many times have you done it before? You don’t even remember. Yet, right now, it somehow feels fresh and new.

Maybe it’s because there’s more in Jungkook’s eyes than just lust. Maybe it’s because you notice how he watches you with adoration. And maybe it’s because you watch him with the same intensity, the same feeling.

Jungkook grabs the skin of your hips tightly as you increase your pace. He loves your face contorted in pleasure, he loves the sight of your boobs jumping at each move, he loves to feel the soft skin of your ass on his hand. He loves it. Both of you are really sweating now. You kiss him deeply, never decreasing your pace, your tongues entangling around each other, grabbing the strands of his hair.

God, how much he loves it.

He loves it much more now, because he sees how this time, he’s not the only one feeling something beyond physical pleasure. He knows you too damn well. It’s just like that morning at your house. You’re feeling it, too.

You love him, too.

Thinking about it makes him smile. You think it’s simultaneously the hottest and the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

Jungkook simply circles his arms around your waist and completely switches positions, throwing you on your back on the bed, which makes you giggle. He finally gets rid of your panties and hovers over you, thrusting inside of you once again.

His pace is fast and steady from the beginning. Your moans get higher and higher, louder and louder. You love how his face is so close to yours, how strongly he’s hitting you, how he tightly intertwines his fingers with yours (Jungkook really is the type to intertwine his hands when having sex!)

It’s ridiculous how you feel your eyes welling up with tears in a moment like this.

This moment… It’s not just bodies connecting - it’s souls.

You used to think you and Jungkook didn’t match; you were opposites in many ways. Jungkook is an introvert, you are an extrovert. Jungkook prefers quiet places, you prefer parties. Jungkook works out, you’re too lazy to do so. Jungkook hates coffee. You can’t live without it.

But, it’s in this moment - when he’s inside of you, when all of your senses are stunned by pure pleasure, when everything you can smell is him and everything you can hear is the sounds of bodies against bodies and when everything you can see is his beautiful starry eyes looking right back at you - is when you realize how wrong you were all along.

You’re like two jigsaw puzzle pieces. They need to be different to match. They are different, but when you put them two together, they complete each other.

You’ve always matched.

Seulgi didn't expect to find Jungkook standing in the kitchen when she came home.

Of course - you told her that the flight back home was scheduled at night and you'd probably arrive in the morning. This shouldn't be surprising. Yet, Seulgi still widens her eyes when she sees Jeon Jungkook cooking breakfast, his hair a mess, his face slightly swollen - an indication that he just woke up - wearing shorts and a white t-shirt.

He turns around and smiles. "Oh! Y/N didn't tell me you were coming back so early." He sounds a little bit surprised.

Seulgi notices it immediately.

That smile on his face and those gleamy eyes are just shown by someone that had a long, steamy and tiring night of sex.

Sure, Seulgi knows that you and Jungkook made up - and that you've been fucking for months now - but damn, it's still shocking to see it with her own eyes, considering that you only looked like good friends.

"I didn't know I'd come back early, too." Seulgi says, sitting by the tiny kitchen counter. She was expecting to spend the weekend at Irene’s penthouse, but she had to work. This is one of the reasons why Seulgi loves Irene; Irene could just enjoy her fortune and do nothing, yet, she decides to actively work for the company. She’s admirable.

"Do you want breakfast?" He asks over his shoulder.

"Well… I already had breakfast, but this is smelling really good." She admits. Jungkook nods and proceeds to prepare one more portion. She just watches in silence as he works around the kitchen (and she's also surprised that he knows where everything is, every pot, every spoon, literally everything). He hums quietly, that tiny satisfied smile never leaving his lips.

Seulgi thinks she has never seen him so happy.

It's kind of adorable.

"So, how was your job?" She asks.

"It was great!" Jungkook says excitedly. He chuckles. "I thought I was going to be the assistant of the assistant, but actually I was everyone's assistant. I didn't really do much, but it was great anyways. It's totally different to study about it and see how things work in real life."

Before Seulgi says anything, she sees you coming from your bedroom.

Your face is swollen and your eyes are barely opened; it seems you're not even seeing where you're going. Your hair is a complete mess. You wear one of Jungkook's shirts and Seulgi suspects you're not wearing anything under it.

She watches as you walk on a beeline straight to Jungkook and hug him from behind, burying your face on his back.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" At least that's what she thinks you said, because your voice sounds muffled.

"Because you looked so funny that I didn't want to wake you up." He says softly. Seulgi can hear his smile. "You were drooling and all. I even took some pictures."

"You didn't."

"I did." Jungkook giggles when you punch his back, but still keep your body glued on him.

"Fuck you. What are you cooking anyways? It smells too fucking good." You mumble.

"It's my special recipe." Jungkook moves to take something on the cabinet. You go along. "I can't cook if you keep smashing me like this."

"I don't caaare."

"Since when do you like hugging so much?"

"You didn't know girlfriend Y/N. Girlfriend Y/N likes long hugs."

Jungkook chuckles again. "Nice to meet you, Girlfriend Y/N."

Seulgi just stares, jaw dropped. From all the things she thought she’d see in her life, this is the most unexpected.

This is so cheesy. So not you. Not even when you were dating Mike you were like this.

And Jesus- she has never seen you look happy like this.

You turn your head to look at Seulgi, and she watches awkwardly as you let go of Jungkook and proceed to walk in her direction. You kind of look like a really happy zombie.

“Oh, good morning, Seul. Don’t be jealous. I love you toooo.”

And you throw your arms around her shoulders, hugging her so tightly that she almost falls from the stool.

The only person that doesn’t get shocked at your relationship is your mother.

You casually called her just to talk and gave the news. What she said?

“Well, finally.”

Everyone else is utterly shocked.

When Hoseok saw you kissing each other goodbye the other day - it was just a peck - his eyes got so wide that it seemed they were about to pop out of his face. He stared at you and him, completely shocked, as Jimin just laughed. That was pretty much everyone’s reaction.

You and Jungkook were never the type to be too touchy. It’s still kind of awkward to hand hold in public or call each other things like babe or love. You physically cringe just thinking of calling him “babe”, honestly.

It’s weird, because you’re “officially” dating now, but your relationship isn’t all that different. All the overwhelming awkwardness between you is gone (thankfully), so now you do what you always did; you swear at each other, you have your violent ways of showing affection, he still ghosts you because he’s too busy playing whatever game. The only difference is that now you can fuck without feeling guilty (and oh boy, you’ve been fucking a lot these days) and there’s a lot of kissing. There wasn’t that much kissing back then.

You thought it was impossible, but sex is even better now. It’s more exciting and even funnier - especially because there’s no awkwardness weighting in the room after you both reach your climaxes. Instead, there’s giggles and hugs and soft kisses. You also sleep at each other’s places now, which is good.

To be honest, if you think really hard about it, you’ve been lowkey dating for years. It’s just that now, you fuck a lot.

When you tell him this, Jungkook just chuckles. You don’t think he’s really listening to what you’re saying, though - nor you’re thinking straight anymore. You went out with your friends at a karaoke and, as expected, ended up drinking way too much; you and Seulgi had a singing competition in which none of you won (Irene just sat there looking absolutely embarrassed), Jimin sang a little bit but disappeared at some point (Jungkook said he noticed some hot guy in the side room), Hoseok got so emotional singing Haru Haru by BigBang that he started crying as Seokjin laughed so hard he almost choked, and Jungkook didn’t sing at all (because everybody knew he’s actually good at it and he would humiliate everyone else), until Jungkook silently asked if you wanted to leave (and you did) and you two left before anyone could notice (they were too drunk to notice anyway).

Since he’s drinking, you took a bus. The wrong bus. You’re at the other side of the city now, sitting on the bench of a park, watching the sun rise. It sounds romantic, but really, everything you see is heavy traffic and the grey pollution line in the horizon, almost blocking the sun.

Not that you care.

“We did everything backwards.” Jungkook says, his voice low and a little bit husky. His eyes look heavy because of the alcohol. You love how his hair is tied in a tiny ponytail. “People usually are friends first, then go out on dates, then they fuck.”

“We jumped straight to the fun part!” You say as if it’s obvious. He giggles again.

Peaceful silence. Jungkook watches your intertwined hands sitting on his lap, a small smile on his face. You can see that, even though he’s right by your side, his mind must be far, far away. He’s clearly sleepy. It’s silly - you know this guy almost your entire life, you already have memorized each detail about him - but you can’t take your eyes off of him right now.

You inhale.

“You know.” You start absently. “I saw the video.”

Jungkook frowns and looks at you. “What video?”

You’re trying really hard to hold back a smile.

“I think it’s called euphoria final test I swear to God.”

His eyes widen.

“W-What? Who showed you?!” He groans. “Jimin. Oh my God- I’m gonna fucking kill him!”

You start laughing as you see blush creeping on his cheeks and ears. He hides his face behind his hands and moans painfully.

“Why are you so embarrassed?” You ask, endeared, trying to get his hands off from his face, but he won’t let you.

“You weren’t supposed to watch that! It’s- it wasn’t- ugh!”

“But the song is beautiful, Kook!” You try, still laughing.

“Yeah, the song is alright, but the video?”

“What’s wrong with the video?”

He finally side eyes you for a few seconds. The blush on his cheeks gets redder. He hides his face again, groaning.

“You weren’t supposed to find out about that. Shit, I can’t look at you anymore. I wanna fucking die.”

“Stop being so dramatic!” After a lot of effort, you finally manage to cup his face with your hands. Still, he avoids your gaze. “Hey, hey. Look at me!”

He does.

He looks sheepish and it’s adorable.

“I loved it. Every second of it. You’re so damn talented.”

“B-But I didn’t write the song alone… Namjoon takes most of the credits with the lyrics. I just helped a little bit. A-And you know, it was just for fun, it’s not an official demo or anything-”

He’s forced to shut up when you peck his lips.

“I love you.”

He knits his eyebrows a little bit.

“You like to say this a lot.” He notices quietly. “I didn’t know you were this type of person.”

“I’m not.” You agree. “But it’s because it’s you.”

You’ve been “officially” dating for, what, almost two weeks now? People usually don’t say “I love you” this early. But this isn’t the beginning for you two. It’s more like a progression. It feels natural, like it has always been with him.

It feels like home.

Jungkook avoids your gaze again. The blush hasn’t gone away. “I don’t know what to do when you say things like that- why are you crying?!”

It’s Jungkook’s time to laugh at you as you try to wipe the tears away. He pulls you to rest your head on his chest, hugging you tightly.

“I am supposed to be the emotional one here, not you.” He says, still laughing.

“Shut up. I’m drunk.”

“Yeah, sure.” His laughter slowly dies until it’s just a quiet giggle. You feel his scent, hear the beating of his heart. Jungkook kisses the top of your head gently, caressing your back. “I’m gonna be so embarrassed when I remember I said this tomorrow,” he says softly against your hair. “But I think I’ve loved you ever since that first day of school when we bumped into each other on our way.”

You bury your face on his chest even more.

Everything around you is blurred and distant. It seems that nothing really matters besides right here, right now - as if you’ve never realized what you’ve been waiting for your whole life. This moment.

Him.

The puzzle is finally complete.

#btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook

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erimeows · 3 years ago

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Intervention, Baby

Unlike many of his Autobot counterparts, Prowl adored organics- especially the ones on earth, whether that be the plants, animals, or humans.

His favorite, though? You. You by far.

After arriving on earth, Prowl had become obsessed with people watching, usually taking long strolls around the city or going to public parks to watch how humans lived their daily lives. Something about the human species by itself was captivating, but when he’d seen you for the first time, (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair shining under the bright sun as you walked into the local flower shop, he had been completely and utterly enthralled. He’d known that he was supposed to avoid interactions with humans that weren’t necessary according to Prime, but he hadn’t been able to help himself that day. So, he’d gone into the flower shop and sparked a conversation with you to figure out exactly what it was that had him so interested; what it was about you that was so different than the other humans he watched.

You had just moved to Detroit from your hometown for a new job, which explained why he hadn’t seen you before that, and as he’d talked to you that day, he became more and more intrigued. You’d started renting a house nearby, with your very own flower garden, which you showed him that day. He hadn’t been able to tell you much at the time about Cybertron for security reasons, but what he did tell you about himself, you listened to intently. You were a great listener, with kind eyes and a bright smile that made his spark stop at times.

Prowl had been a cautious bot. Whatever caution he had maintained since being on earth had flown out the window with you, though, as he fell quickly, often sneaking away from the Autobots to spend time with you at your house or visit you at your job. A strong friendship was quickly formed, and with how much he was gone, his teammates quickly became suspicious.

It started with questions, the others asking where he was all the time and why he was suddenly so interested in stopping by flower and gardening shops whenever they were out. Naturally, Optimus was the first to figure it out, asking if he’d met someone and then leaving the subject alone when Prowl avoided the subject. However, Bumblebee was the next to catch on, and he had no sense of personal boundaries, so he dragged Bulkhead along to follow him to your house. While it wasn’t the best first impression, that was how you met Bumblebee and Bulkhead, and eventually Optimus and Ratchet as well- since the secret was out in the open now and no one seemed to disapprove of you, Prowl had started bringing you around the Autobot base.

The rest was history, but the more Prowl developed his relationship with you, the more fearful he became for the future. He was a wise and emotionally mature bot, he figured, but he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you. He had fallen in love. He was cybertronian, you were human, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to initiate anything- not that he thought you returned the feelings anyways. No, you were too pure and sweet, kind and beautiful, fragile and soft. He feared hurting you most of the time. He feared falling deeper. He feared starting something he couldn’t finish and leaving you hurt in the end, but each day he spent with you only made it worse.

Why did he love you? Why couldn’t he have fallen for another Autobot? Why a human? The thoughts plagued his processor constantly, but when you reached over to grab one of his digits and pull him along to show him something in your garden or smiled up at him, he couldn’t help it. You were so soft and delicate, but you still treated him like you would anyone else. You weren’t scared of him, you always offered a listening ear when he needed it, and you opened up to him in return.

Warm, bright, radiant- Prowl felt like you were all of the things that he wasn’t, and as he returned to base and walked into the main room, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Spending time with you seemed exhausting nowadays. He always left with a troubled processor and an uneasy feeling. Was it right to keep seeing you when he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere? Would his unresolved feelings get in the way of your friendship? What was he to do at this point? As much as he’d tried to simply make the feelings go away, he couldn’t; couldn’t develop an interest in anyone else, couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about you to kill his attraction, couldn’t will it away. Nothing worked, so he drowned himself in it, and while he would have loved to sulk for a little bit, his attention was captured by his team.

He’d walked into... Something, though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was yet. His entire team was crowded onto the living room couch, silent, staring up at him. Seeing them all in one room at the same time was rare when they weren’t sharing energon or working against the Decepticons, but seeing them all in one room and quiet? Something was wrong.

“Where did you just come from, Prowl?” Bumblebee, who was sitting in the middle of the couch with Bulkhead to his right, crossed his arms as he asked the oddly accusatory question and leaned forward.

“(y/n)’s, why?” Prowl answered. He was so uneasy that he found himself shifting his weight from one pede to the other and averting his gaze. While he wasn’t normally avoidant like that, when it came to you, he couldn’t help how nervous he got.

“Don’t worry about it, but-” Bulkhead started, letting out a nervous chuckle.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward. Optimus Prime, next to Bulkhead on the edge of the couch, wouldn’t even look at him. Meanwhile, Ratchet, who was on the other side of Bumblebee, appeared to be growing increasingly agitated with each second that passed.

“What is the meaning of this?” Prowl finally demanded, which made Bumblebee stand up and point right at him with a huge grin.

“Intervention, baby!” The yellow bot cheered.

“Intervention? I’m not abusing substances if that’s what you’re-”

“No, no, that’s not what we’re getting at, you bucket of bolts!” Ratchet groaned and face-palmed. “We’re here to talk about you and (y/n)!”

There were two ways this could go, and Prowl wasn’t sure which one he hated more.

One, his team could be concerned about him spending so much time with a human who had nothing to do with their cause. It was a valid concern and he knew it- spending so much time with you put you in at risk of getting involved with the Decepticons like Sari, and unlike Sari, you had no key or Cyber-organic powers to protect you. You were simply human, and it wasn’t fair to you to put you in danger the way he was. But he was selfish.

Two, his team could be concerned about his feelings for you. Whether for the aforementioned reasons or because they had to watch the two of you interact all the time, he wasn’t sure, but it would make sense. He certainly hadn’t expected them to call an intervention over either issue, though, so all he could do was stand there.

They were staring at him.

It was... Embarrassing, to say the least.

“I don’t see why this would be considered even remotely appropriate- And Optimus, Ratchet,” Prowl glared at the two older bots, knowing damn well that they knew better than to do this to him. “I expect it from these two, but you? I thought you were more mature than this, but I see I was mistaken.”

“Don’t come at us with your maturity spiel when you can’t even mech up enough to tell (y/n) your true feelings,” Ratchet spat.

“Ratchet, you could have phrased that with a bit more tact, but I do believe you are correct,” Optimus agreed with a small nod and offered a smile, glancing at Ratchet and then at Prowl. “While we don’t have the right to dictate what you do, Prowl, it’s become obvious to everybot what’s going on, and... We all support you. You should be honest with (y/n) and tell her the truth. Love is something that should be appreciated and cherished, not hidden away.”

“Yeah! Plus, it hurts to watch you two dance around each other when it’s so obvious what’s going on,” Bumblebee argued. “She likes you back-”

“No, she doesn’t, and even if she did, how would this work?” Prowl raised his voice without meaning to, and the moment he heard how loud his volume was, he paused to take a deep breath and reflect. His team had good intentions, they wanted him to be happy and enjoy a relationship for once, but he was so scared. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? With a sigh, he spoke again, not daring to look at any of his friends. “I’m Cybertronian and she’s organic, and we could have to go back to Cybertron any day now- or, even worse, the Decepticons could kill us. Would it not be selfish of me to confess my feelings for her, start a relationship, and then leave or die? Assuming that she wants anything to do with me, that is.”

“Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but you’ve heard the saying here on earth that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, haven’t you? (y/n) would be more upset if you left or died without telling her the truth than she would be if you told her beforehand. No matter what happens in the end, at least she’d have some closure that way, because she does love you too,” Bulkhead insisted.

“No, she doesn’t,” Prowl mumbled, not having any other defense. Did he think you loved him like that? No, but did he have definite proof that you didn’t? Also no, so he was left without a solid defense, but too stubborn to concede to his friends’ (valid) points. “You’re wrong.”

“Yeah she does, dude, you’re just wrong,” Bumblebee walked over to him and put a servo on his shoulder, meeting his optics, uncharacteristically intense- borderline angry. “How can you even know if you haven’t talked to her about it?”

“How can you know?” Prowl defended and jabbed a digit into the younger bot’s chest plate. The two continued to stare each other down for a few moments before Bee finally sighed and looked away.

“Because I’ve talked to her about it.”

“...Oh. I see,” The black and gold bot took a step back and fidgeted with his servos. He had never expected for you to confide in Bumblebee about such a matter, but then again... Aside from Prowl himself, Bumblebee was your best friend and always had been since he’d started bringing you around. The two of you were similar; innocent, kindred souls with similar interests. Unlike Prowl, the yellow bot brought out your more energetic, fun side, making you laugh constantly, but... He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Bumblebee was a confidant for you, too. Part of him was jealous, but he tried to shove that down with a tense swallow. “I’m going to take my leave, then.”

“That’s what I thought,” The smaller bot smirked, earning a glare from Prowl in return.

“Get bent.”

That entire night and the day after were spent locked in his room reflecting upon everything; his feelings, you, the advice that his teammates had given him during their little “intervention”, the potential consequences of what he was about to do.

Whether he wanted to or not, he knew that he needed to confess. What if one of you died without ever saying anything? What if he went back to Cybertron without ever having the chance to tell you the truth and regretted it? What if you had to leave Detroit someday? It was too big of a problem to leave unresolved given how chaotic and unpredictable your lives were, even if he was scared of what could happen. Plus, half the battle was you loving him back, and if Bumblebee told the truth the day prior, you already did.

So, Prowl sat on your roof. Waiting. You were outside for whatever reason despite it being midnight on a Tuesday in human time, laying in your backyard and admiring your flowers. Since it was a warm fall, they were growing quite well, your pumpkin crop in particular thriving. He’d been watching you for a while; (s/c) skin glowing as the moonlight shone upon your body, (f/c) shorts and a black sleepshirt hugging your frame. Your (e/c) eyes were currently trained on your rosebush, though he was sure you had noticed his presence- even though he wasn’t visible behind your chimney, you had an amazing knack for being able to feel when he was there, visible or not.

“(y/n)?” The Autobot finally spoke, emerging from his hiding place and jumping down into your backyard to stand next to where you lay.

You sat up to look at him with a tired smile. It was late and you had work tomorrow... Something must’ve been on your mind, too. Perhaps the two of you were in sync with your recent concerns.

“Hey, Prowl, you’re up late. Why don’t you lay with me?” Unable to say no to you, Prowl did just that, joining you on the grass and laying with his back on the ground. The stars that littered the sky were fogged up by the city lights, but while he normally would’ve been agitated by it, you were better to stare at, so he didn’t mind too much. “You sat on my roof for a while and didn’t even talk to me. What’s keeping you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, I just-” The ninjabot started, close to denying everything flat out and ignoring the subject of his feelings yet again before realizing that’s what the problem was. He couldn’t open up to you and it was making everything convoluted, so with a sharp breath, he gathered all of his willpower and spoke to you again. “No, you know what? I’m tired of this.”

“What?” You looked shocked at the sound of his agitated tone, eyebrows furrowing together as you sat up and glanced at him, making him sit up as well. Your (e/c) eyes burned into his ocean optics in that moment, and a brief silence washed over the two of you before he spoke again.

“I’m tired of us hiding from each other,” Unable to help himself, Prowl leaned closer to you and reached over to rest a servo on one of your hands. “Be honest, what are your feelings towards me?”

You stopped, your breath visibly catching in your throat. The black and gold bot could immediately tell you were nervous, terrible at hiding your negative emotions like you had been since he’d met you, but he let you have as much time as you needed.

“Prowl, it’s a bit sudden for you to ask something like that out of nowhere. You know we’re friends-” You started, but when you looked closer at his face, you gave him a defeated sigh that made him realize; you knew he knew. “Who told you?”

“So it’s true,” He stated, holding your hand tightly and giving a soft frown. Your face was painted with the same fear and anxiety that he’d felt over loving you for so long now.

Part of him was happy that you loved him back. The other part almost wished you didn’t, wished you could live your life happy and blissfully unaware to avoid the risk of getting your heart broken.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized.

“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetspark?” Prowl asked, tone gentle as he used his spare hand to caress your cheek and leaned in to rest his helm against yours. “I’d be a fool not to reciprocate, but I want to hear it for myself before I do anything. Tell me how you feel.”

“I’m in love with you, Prowl,” You admitted. A couple of tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks, those of which Prowl wiped away with his thumb. “I’ve been captivated since the moment I saw you, and I never planned on telling you. I’m afraid of you getting attached to me and not being able to handle it if we ever have to separate because I’m sure there will be a day when you have to go back to your home planet. You can’t stay forever, and I can’t go with you.”

“I feel the same way... I love you too, (y/n)- so much that I don’t think you understand. I held off because I fear having to leave you someday, but I realized that we should take advantage of what time we have left and try our best to make this work,” In between his words, you let out what he assumed was a sigh of relief, making him do the same. Prowl quickly felt the weight of his anxieties leaving his chest and shoulders. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your plump, warm lips, then withdrew to press a few more against your cheeks and forehead. You giggled; a sound he would listen to for the rest of his life if he could. “I think we’ll be alright in the end.”

“I...” You grinned and leaned into him with another laugh. “I think so, too. But who told you?”

“That’s... Quite the story. You see, yesterday afternoon, I got back to the base after visiting you and...”

Prowl smiled as well as he started his story. Things were complicated, and he knew this was risky, but you wrapping an arm around one of his and gripping his hand made him realize just how worth it you were.

Maybe that intervention hadn’t been too bad of an idea after all.

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thebadgerclan · 3 years ago

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SFW Alphabet: Kaz Brekker

Requested by Anonymous

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

With his fear of touch, it takes Kaz a while to be comfortable with physical affection, but he slowly gets there. It starts slowly, with him holding your hand with his gloves on, putting an arm around your shoulders and waist, then holding your hand without the gloves, kissing your forehead, cheeks, and eventually your lips. After a few months of working through his fear, he’s open to holding you for longer periods of time. Kaz wants so badly to be physically affectionate with you, but with his phobia, it’s slow going, but he does get there

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Kaz doesn’t really do “friends”, more like allies. But to have him as an ally, someone you knew you can rely on, that carries a lot of weight in the Barrell. If you ever find yourself in a tight spot, you know you can call on Kaz for help, and he’ll be there, usually with a few other members of the Dregs

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Like I said in A, physical affection is something that you and Kaz have to work towards. But once he’s comfortable with cuddling, it easily becomes one of his favorite things. He likes to spoon you, his arms around your waist, nose buried in your hair, legs entwined. Kaz also likes it when you lay facing him, your head buried in his chest, his hands rubbing your back. He might not admit it, but on bad days, whether with his leg or his phobia, he loved being the little spoon, letting you hold him close and shut out the outside world

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Kaz does want to settle down, but with the Dregs, it’s not really a possibility. So you settle for sharing a room and spending every night in each other’s arms. But you do talk about what your future will be like when Kaz eventually gets a big payout from a job: a mansion, fancy clothes, a massive diamond ring (that’s Kaz’s addition). He cooks well enough to keep himself alive, but to be honest, he’s not the best

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) I feel like he’d be really cold and practical about it, but he’d cry when he’s alone. “This isn’t working, Y/N,” he says. “We can’t be together and work together, pick one.” Once he’s alone in his room at the Slat, he breaks down, knowing he just lost the only good thing in his life since Jordie

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Kaz fully intends to marry you, once he has enough money for a proper ceremony, one that meets every single one of the dreams you’ve had since childhood. He gets you a simple ring, a small diamond on a silver band, and asks you to marry him. It’s a simple proposal, but it’s romantic all the same. “Y/N, darling, I love you more than anything else in this world. Marry me, please, my love, make me your husband.” He proposes after 2ish years of dating, well after he’s gotten over his fear of touch (with you at least)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Kaz has a reputation for being ruthless and violent, but with you, he’s sweet, tender, and unbelievably gentle. Once again, once he’s over his phobia, his touch is always gentle and tender. He never raises his voice at you, he never even thinks about hurting you. You are his treasure, worth more than any amount of money (and when I say “over his phobia”, I mean he’s comfortable with touching you, I know that he has deep seated trauma that will never go away. But, in my opinion, Kaz is able to work through his trauma and work towards being able to touch his girl),

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Again, after working through his phobia, Kaz LOVES hugs. Your arms are a sanctuary, a place where he can ignore the hustle and bustle of Ketterdam, work from the Crow Club and the Dregs, and anything that’s bothering him. He’ll often come up to you and pull you into his arms, chin resting atop your head. His hugs are warm and safe, you know that when you’re in his arms, nothing can hurt you

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

After about 8 months, Kaz is at the point that he’s able to hold your hand without his gloves. You’d been so patient and understanding with him, and he took your hand, risking pressing a kiss to the back of it (something else he’d recently become comfortable with was kissing your cheek and forehead). “Thank you for being so patient with me, Y/N, I love you so much. My girl, I love you.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Kaz gets jealous very easily. If anyone gets too close to you, he’s on edge. Even if it’s Jesper, who has little to no interest in any female, Kaz still is jealous. He comes to your side, either taking your hand, putting an arm around your shoulders, or pulling you flush against him (depending on where he’s at in terms of working through his trauma)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Tentative at first, when kissing is new to him. Light, short pecks on your forehead and cheeks, before progressing to your lips. Then they linger for a few seconds, mainly on your lips, and eventually, he gets to the point where he wants to kiss you every waking second, lips on yours until he nearly passes out. Once he’s really comfortable with kissing, his kisses are passionate, the love he has for you palpable in the inches between you. Kaz likes to kiss you basically everywhere: forehead, cheek, nose, lips, neck, other intimate areas ;D. He likes to be kissed on the cheek, jaw, neck, lips (duh), and his hands. You’re one of very few people who get to see and touch his hands, so having you kiss them makes his heart flutter

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Honestly, he hates them. I mean, remember what he said to that little girl in Crooked Kingdom? He just doesn’t like them, there’s not much room to elaborate on that.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Most mornings, you wake to Kaz’s lips against your temple, his arms around your middle. “Good morning, my love.” He is loath to get out of bed in the mornings and leave your embrace, but he’s got a club to run. Even so, he’ll spend an extra 20 minutes or so just holding you, soaking in your love and presence (This is all after he’s comfortable w/ touch, btw)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

(Same as above, after Kaz is comfortable w/ touch) Kaz tends to work late, so most nights, you have to drag him to bed. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck. “Come to bed, Kaz. It’s late.” He’ll sigh, moan about how much work he has to do, but he;ll let you herd him into bed

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

A loooooooooong time, both in regards to physical touch and the trauma he’s been through. You know that he’s been through a lot, and you don’t push him, because you know that Kaz will tell you when he’s ready. And sure enough, he does. Slowly, he tells you about Jordie, the plague, how Rollins swindled him, everything about his past. Time is your best friend in a relationship with Kaz

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

In general, fairly fast, but with you, he’s hardly angry. On a job, Kaz can’t afford to be too patient, when he needs something, he needs it now, and he’s not afraid to do whatever he needs to get it. ��But you’re a different story, with you, Kaz has endless patience. He might snap at you at the start of your relationship, but he always apologizes immediately afterwards. Love is new to him, so he needs you to be patient as well.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Kaz has the memory of an elephant, he has to with the jobs he does, So he remembers every single thing you tell him, important or not.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Cliche, but the first time he kissed you. Kaz was finally comfortable enough with that level of intimacy, and he’d removed his gloves, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you, a long, sweet, lingering kiss. He cried, but they were happy tears.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

You’re dating the Bastard of the Barrell, Kaz is insanely protective of you. Whenever you go somewhere without Kaz, he has a few members of the Dregs trail you, at a distance, just to make sure that if something happens, you’re protected. But if he can, Kaz goes everywhere with you, you on his arm, glaring at anyone who might dare cross you, as if to say “Hands off, she’s mine”

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Kaz leads a busy life, so proper dates don’t happen all that often. But when they do, Kaz goes all out, he books a reservation at the best restaurant in Ketterdam, roses, expensive wine, the works. Other date type things are like a private dinner in his office and simple gifts, like candy and things you’ve mentioned you want

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

It’s not a bad habit, but it’s definitely an obstacle in a relationship: his haphephobia. He can be a little rough around the edges, and he’s pretty resistant to the idea of a relationship until he realizes how hard he’s fallen for you

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Kaz is always dressed and groomed immaculately. A fitted three piece suit, his hair slicked back, fedora, leather gloves, shoes shined to a mirror gleam. He takes pride in his appearance, he came from nothing, and he’s built a little empire for himself, and he’s damn proud of it

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

At first he thinks he wouldn’t, but then there’s a job that goes south, and you get hurt, and I’m talking badly hurt. Life-threateningly bad. Nina patches you up in seconds, but you’re unconscious and weak for a few days. Kaz doesn’t leave your side once, his hand clutching yours. “Please, Y/N,” he begs to your sleeping form. “Please be alright. I can’t live without you. I love you, Y/N, I love you so much. Please, wake up, my love.”

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

On your 9 month anniversary, Kaz got a third tattoo. Above the crow and cup, next to the capital R, now resides your initials

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Kaz cannot be with someone who doesn’t respect his boundaries. If you take his hand without thinking before he’s alright with it, but release it immediately and apologize, he’s shaken but alright. But if you do it and don’t let go or don’t apologize, it’s a massive dealbreaker

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Kaz has trouble sleeping in storms, the rain reminds him of the tide on the Reaper’s Barge. But cuddle him and he’s out like a light

#kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone reader insert

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love-archon · 3 years ago

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A Day With The Genshin Characters: Liyue Edition

Today's going to be a busy day! Check your planner for who you'll be meeting with- as one of the esteemed members of the Liyue Qixing, you cannot afford to be late to any appointment.

• 6:00, Ningguang: Morning Tea

Although you say you love your job, waking up at un-archonly hours has to be the part you like the least. Even getting up at five in the morning, the hour when tigers prowl, is still not enough time to prepare for a meeting with the Tianquan. You rush around frantically choosing the best outfit, fragrance, and hair arrangement to present yourself to Lady Ningguang, and you're halfway out the door when it hits you- you forgot to bring a gift with you!

"Right on time," Ningguang says, pleased. You smile, hoping she won't hear your heart beating from anxiety. "And what a lovely present, too... is there any doubt you were appointed as one of the seven Qixing?" (You can't tell if it's her rare praise, or the sheer altitude you're at within the Jade Chamber, that's making your head spin).

• 7:00, Keqing: Business Meeting

You barely have time to rest before Keqing whisks you away to Yuehai Pavilion. You're very close friends, and you admire the girl for her tenacity and diligence. The conversation flows easily as you walk to your destination under a cloudless sky. It's a wonderfully sunny moment, but the moment the doors lock, you mean business. In the next two hours, you conquer matters that would normally take days to resolve, and the two of you exchange grins.

"There we go!" Keqing breathes a sigh of relief, pushing away the last stack of papers. She holds up her hand, and you high-five. "You know, I like how easily you keep up with me. You even caught mistakes I would have missed... things like this make me even more certain Liyue is better off in human hands."

• 9:00: Check In With Ganyu

With such a hectic schedule, Ganyu is your saving grace. It's always important to check in with her, just to make sure nothing you have planned catches you by surprise, and sometimes you wonder why others rarely do the same. She's quite lonely, and often mentions how nice it is that you speak with her every day and bring her gifts to help with work. It may be part of your job to be courteous, but... it does help her feel less lonely and conflicted with herself.

"Qingxin flowers? Thank you so much." She accepts them gratefully, smiling at you with warm eyes. "I still have that new stationery you gave me, too. You're so kind for remembering the things I like!"

• 9:30: Talk to Beidou

The tea in the Jade Chamber was just a front for Ningguang to spring a request on you- meet with the captain of the Crux Fleet to discuss her... recent smuggling habits. But Beidou merely laughs heartily when you arrive. A crewmate tosses her a sack of Mora, and she slits it open, letting the payment shower over you in a spray of gold. And then, before you know what's happening, you're roped into helping them find a treasure rumored to be lost beneath the waves.

"So, Ningguang though sending her star diplomat would get me to let up, huh!" You blush, wondering how you could be so easy to read under her ruby eye. "I was impressed by your words, and how well you fought by my side. But the annoyance of the Liyue Qixing is of no concern to me."

• 12:00, Tartaglia: TEACH HIM A LESSON!

As the member of the Qixing that oversees diplomacy and foreign relations, it's you that must meet with the Fatui Harbinger. He's quite good at playing pretend- all your underlings believed he was a naive, careless young man, and easily manipulated, too. And all of them ended up suppressing the urge to break something after they were done conversing with him. On your honor as one of Liyue's seven stars, you vow to not make their mistakes.

"You're asking why I don't try to drive you mad?" he said, setting down his fork. You'd caved in and given him one after watching him struggle with chopsticks for far too long. "You're the only one who isn't a bore to talk to, that's all-" so this was on purpose?!- "and besides, I want to challenge you to a fight afterwards! Your vision's getting quite dusty from neglect, comrade. Let's fix that!"

• 2:00, Yanfei: Discussion of Legal Matters

Yanfei's counsel is an invaluable treasure. Especially when dealing with an opponent as vicious as Snezhnaya's Fatui, who deserve to have her wrath unleashed upon them. You walk to her office with a gleam in your eyes, and are delighted to see an equal fire already blazing in hers. For the next few hours, you two take the "suggestions" Tartaglia passed on from the Northland Bank and scheme on how to best tear them to shreds with the law.

"That man-childe's been giving you trouble again, huh," she giggles. "What did he come up with this time~? I've been waiting for an excuse to bring out the latest edition of my lawbook!" And with that, Yanfei slams it down, and the sheer weight of it nearly cracks her desk. "He won't know what hit him!"

• 4:00: Free Time

Of course, "free time" simply means that you have no meetings scheduled for this hour, which lets you adequately prepare for the next day's events. Tomorrow is your appointment with the Feiyun Commerce Guild, which you already know will require great patience and strength of mind. Because the head of the guild, and his eldest son, the future head, are- to put it mildly- not very bright... it's fortunate, then, that the second son Xingqiu has a good head on his shoulders.

"Tomorrow, you should go straight to me instead," Xingqiu informs you cheerily, handing you a popsicle. Apparently, he keeps them around for his friend Chongyun, who's off to complete another exorcism. "I'll be sure to set everything in order." His eyes gleam. "And then, I can tell you the latest developments in 'A Legend of Sword'!"

• 5:00: Catch Xinyan's Concert!

Liyue's one and only rock musician isn't hard to find, thanks to the designated performance spots scattered around the city. You stop by at the raised platform where she's rocking out, where other people are listening as well. Xinyan strikes a peace sign in the air, and her vision glows with energy before the stage erupts with pillars of fire; her audience bursts into cheers and applause, and she's beaming as she leaps down to meet you.

"Wait, seriously? You really changed up the rules a lil' so it'll be easier for me to hold concerts here?" Her eyes shine as they scan the papers- one of the many results of your work today in Yuehai. "Thank you so much! Wait-" she picks up her guitar again, giving it an experimental riff. "Let me think up a quick song for ya as thanks- I insist!"

• 6:00: Wangsheng Funeral Parlor

Lately, you've been sent particularly determined requests from the other nations about allowing tourists to observe the ancient funeral rites. You already know the answer's gonna be a hard no, but the laws written by Rex Lapis state that you must check with the director anyway. She's not there when you arrive, so a consultant, Zhongli, brings you tea while you wait for her. You sit together in the fading sun, waiting for Hu Tao's familiar song to rise above the hill.

Zhongli takes a quiet sip from his cup, closing his luminous eyes. "Although it was Rex Lapis who created the laws, they are not meant to be set in stone. Humans must revise the contract as they see fit, so that it will not erode with the passage of time." Something makes you feel as though it's more significant to him than you know. Then, he smiles slightly. "But, just looking at the people leading the way in his absence, like you... there's no need for me to worry."

• 8:00: Dinner; Request Chef Xiangling

The Wanmin Restaurant, run by Chef Mao and his daughter, is a breath of fresh air. While the rest of Liyue is divided between the "Li" and "Yue" styles of cooking, Xiangling pays the conflict no mind. Instead, she's not afraid to be daring and experiment, blazing ahead without worrying about what others think. You can see some similarities between her and Keqing, but it's best not to mention it after that disastrous banquet they organized together...

"Had a rough day, didn't you?" Xiangling asks, her golden eyes twinkling as she hands you the steaming hot bowl. "Well, for you, I made sure to prepare your favorite dish! I hope you don't mind if I added a lizard or two this time- I'm kidding!" she adds quickly, upon seeing alarm flash across your face.

• 9:00: Return Home

After everything that happened, you're eager to collect the reports from your subordinates and head home to draft new revisions for Tianquan Ningguang to look over (and then, hopefully, get some rest). But as you're walking on the path to your neighborhood, you spot a little girl sitting in the grass, clutching her head. Alarm rises in your chest as you rush over to see what's wrong, and why she's alone- only to realize with a start that she's the child that returned from the dead.

"Thank you for taking Qiqi back to Bubu Pharmacy," she says, reading solemnly from her notebook (where the entire thank-you script is written). Even when you set her down, she's still reading the pieces of paper. "Will you tell Dr. Baizhu where I got lost? Please and thank you, again."

• 10:00: Sleep

In the end, you never did get to those revisions. You can hear your fellow Qixing scolding you in your head, but at least you got plenty of other things done; the well-oiled machine that is Liyue will still keep running on thanks to the tasks you accomplished today. Someday, even the adepti will have to acknowledge the ability of humans... you turn in your bed to feel the coolness of the other side. Speaking of adepti... the night air coming in... reminds you of... "Xiao..."

"I thought you were in danger," the adeptus huffs. The moment you said his name, you'd finally fallen asleep, but it still brought Xiao to you- balanced on the windowsill, hair waving in the breeze. "Still... I'm... glad that you're alright," he admits, glancing at you to make sure you're not awake to hear. "Rest well, bright star of Liyue." And then, with a sound like a sigh- or was it the wind?- he's gone.

#genshin imagines #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ningguang x reader #beidou x reader #xiao x reader #genshin scenarios

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breakyeol · 4 years ago

Text

— WHAT HE LOST

So you got dumped. It sucks, but hey, at least you’ve got your best friends who always seem know exactly what to do to help make you feel better.

┗ Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: friends to lovers au, angst, fluff, smut

Words: 12.8k (I wish I was kidding)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, drinking, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, explicit sexual content ; dom(?)baekhyun, switch sub!chanyeol, switch!reader, their roles ended up being very blurred, you’re the bologna in a chanbaek sandwich, threesome, very mild dirty talk, teasing, oral (f. & m. receiving), gentle throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting, yeol just wants to be a good boy but baek just wants to break the headboard

A/N; the poll I did for this fanfic was so fun!!! I seriously love interacted with you guys and receiving your feedback! I definitely think it’s something I’d like to do again in the future! I hope you guys enjoy the results! PS, I low key suck at writing endings sorry loves.

It’s half past two when you show up in front of their door, clothes soaked and heavy from the rain you hadn’t bothered to shield yourself from, heart bruised and aching from the ruthless beat down it had been forced to endure. It’s been a really long night.

Chanyeol is the one to finally open the door, face flushed and swollen, pink lips dry and pouted, dark hair unruly and disheveled with a ridiculous cowlick you would find incredibly amusing if not for the crushing weight of the night’s previous events still weighing heavily on your chest.

“Y/n?” He rasps, blinking hard twice, as if he hadn’t recognized you at first. You wouldn’t hold it against him, you probably look like a drowned rat in your current state.

A shaky grin pulls at your lips, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hey, Yeol.”

His brows furrow and he swipes a large hand down the length of his face. “What time is it? What– what are you doing here?” There’s no malice in the question, only drowsy confusion as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together in his sleep hazed mind.

Instead of answering, you tip your chin forward and ask one of your own. “Mind if I come in? It feels like my fingers are about to fall off.”

All of a sudden his eyes pop open real wide and he gasps, as if just then realizing that you were standing outside his door in the freezing night air, drenched to the bone. He immediately ushers you inside, appearing genuinely distraught. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Did you walk here or something?”

Combing your wet hair out of your face, you offer a blunt nod of confirmation. “Yup.”

His jaw drops and he splutters in disbelief. “You walked here? In the pouring rain? Are you insane?! It’s the middle of the night! Something terrible could have happened to you! And you’re not even wearing a coat!” He gestures wildly at your waterlogged t-shirt and jeans, all drowsiness gone from his eyes.

“I’m fine, Chanyeol.” You sigh, moving past him and into the warmth of his apartment.

“Y/n, that really wasn’t smart. You should’ve called me.” He insists in that disapproving tone that reminds you of a parent scolding a petulant child.

You turn to him with raised brows, the vague outline of amusement tinging your words, “Would you have woken up?”

“You should’ve called until I did,” he shoots back without missing a beat, following close on your heel as you make your way into the living room and fall onto the couch with a soft grunt, “or you could’ve tried Baekhyun. Or literally done anything other than walk all the way here in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.”

He’s right, of course. It was dangerous walking alone at night, no matter how tough you think you are, bad things can happen to anyone. But the danger of walking the streets at night hadn’t been so much as a second thought when you left. There were far more prominent concerns plaguing your mind.

“Yeah, well.”

A beat of silence passes, and you feel the shift in Chanyeol’s gaze. You don’t dare to look over as he sinks into the space on the couch beside you, though all you really want is to lean into the comforting warmth of his body.

“Hey... are you alright?”

A painful lump forms in your throat at the question. “I—” you wince as your voice cracks, words falling dead on the tip of your tongue. Fuck. Why was it so hard to say?

“Y/n?”

The way he says your name nearly shatters the dam, and you just barely manage to pull yourself together enough to avoid turning into a sobbing mess on his couch. Snagging your lower lip roughly between your teeth, you offer a weak hum that pitches strangely in your throat– which most definitely does not go unnoticed by the boy who knows you too well for your own good.

Chanyeol’s concerned eyes sweep over your expression, those damn eyes that can see right through any mask you attempt to wear, before he speaks again in a voice so soft you could feel the steely grip around your heart ease. “Let me get you something dry to wear. Then we can make some hot cocoa and you can tell me what happened, okay?”

The idea of being dry and warm again was more than appealing enough for you to force the corners of your lips upward and manage a light nod of agreement. “Yeah.”

He shoots you a sweet smile, reaching over with a large hand to affectionately ruffle your wet hair and pushing himself off of the couch before you can retaliate. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move, I don’t need you and all your drippiness flooding the apartment. I’m pretty sure you’ve already ruined our new couch.” He teases lightheartedly, that familiar bubbling laughter erupting from his lips as you swing your middle finger up at him.

You feel yourself deflate somewhat when he vanishes into his bedroom, leaving you alone once more. It was unusually quiet. Though understandable given the time, you aren’t used to the silence of the apartment and find yourself craving Chanyeol’s booming voice and Baekhyun’s obnoxious teasing. Without them, there’s nothing to distract your scrambled mind, and you can’t stop it from lingering on the frustration and sense of betrayal that torments your heart. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sink into the plush cushions, a soft groan escaping your tensed lips.

This. Sucks.

Luckily, you aren’t alone long enough to dwell on it too deeply.

Your head snaps up at the sound of a door thudding shut, a murmur of gratitude on the tip of your tongue, but you are surprised to see a very much still half asleep Baekhyun come stumbling into the living room, donning a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white t-shirt that hugs the gentle swells of his chest. His eyes are barely open as he all but throws himself onto the couch, immediately curling up into your side. You only chuckle, nuzzling your nose into his cinnamon scented hair and petting down his unruly bed head as it tickles your chin.

“You’re wet.” Is the first thing he murmurs into the silence, voice thick and hoarse in his throat. You can’t suppress the shiver that ripples down the length of your spine as his warm breath washes over your icy skin, the sharp contrast in temperature startling to your senses.

“I didn’t notice.” You hum, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

“And cold.” He grumbles additionally, arms coiling tightly around the curve of your waist and tugging you flush against him. The heat of his body is more than welcome, and you’re happy to allow him to cuddle into you. It’s easy to find comfort in his familiar embrace.

“Chanyeol is getting me something else to wear.”

His head tips back at that, and you have to draw away to keep your noses from colliding. Hooded eyes drag slowly over your face, warm and searching. You swallow nervously under the intensity of his scrutinizing gaze and quickly turn away, hoping he hadn’t seen the tell tale signs of your internal turmoil. But it seems both of your best friends are more observant than you give them credit for.

You jolt in surprise as he suddenly grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to face him again. The unexpected proximity has warmth rushing into your cheeks, and you clear your throat, eyes looking anywhere but his face. Nonetheless he still manages to read you like the pages of a children’s book.

“You’ve been crying.”

Instinctively, you try to put some distance between you and him, swatting his hand away and plastering an unconvincing scowl across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His lips part, and you brace yourself, knowing by the look on his face alone that he’s going to push the matter.

“Ah, Baekhyun, you’re awake.” You let out a breath of relief as Chanyeol steps out of his room, a set of black sweats and a towel draped over his arm. Perfect timing. Baekhyun nearly topples over as you jump up from the couch, quickly making your way over to where the younger boy stands. “Y/n, I got y—”

“Thanks, I’ll go change.” You rush out, cutting him off abruptly as you pull the clothes from his arms. You manage a quick smile of gratitude before you’re hurrying past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door more harshly than you intended behind you.

Very subtle, y/n.

“Fuck.” You hiss through clenched teeth, silently cursing yourself out.

Moving towards the sink, you stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror with a weak grimace. You knew you looked like a mess but damn. You really look like you’ve been put through the wringer tonight. Which, of course, you kind of had been, but still.

It takes longer than you anticipated to wriggle yourself out of your wet clothes, nearly falling on your ass more times than you care to admit out loud in your numerous attempts to peel off your jeans. But in the end, it was more than worth it to feel the soft, warm fabric of Chanyeol’s oversized clothes against your skin. The faded scent of his aftershave eases the tension in your shoulders, but you can’t fight the buzz of nerves that come to life in your stomach as you step back out the door.

The rich, sweet scent of hot chocolate is the first thing to greet you upon your return. Noting the emptiness of the living room, you come to the quick conclusion that they’re both most likely in the kitchen. On quiet feet, you shuffle over to the entrance, peeking your head around the wall. They’re facing away from you, leaning against the island and exchanging whispered words, voices just low enough that you can’t make out what they’re saying. Though, there’s little doubt in your mind that you’re the subject of their heated conversation.

Deciding to make your presence known, you clear your throat and step onto the cool tile. Two heads whip in your direction, startled. The looks on either of their faces makes you think of two children being caught doing something they definitely should not be. Exactly... what had they been talking about?

Chanyeol is the first to move, plucking up the mug from the countertop and making his way over to you. “Extra marshmallows and extra whipped cream with a pinch of cinnamon,” he says, a soft smile on his lips and a warm blush on his cheeks, “just how you like it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, grateful for the warmth of the smooth white ceramic against your palms. “Thanks, yeol.”

“Let’s sit!” Baekhyun exclaims before you can even take a sip, hands finding your shoulders and steering you back towards the couch. You’re too focused on not spilling the contents of your cup to make any sort of objection.

It’s only when squeezed between their two bodies on their slightly too small couch, their concerned but curious eyes burning into the sides of your face, that you begin to wonder if it was the wisest idea to come here. But then remember just how badly you were craving a good hug and sigh, knowing if anyone was gonna give you one, it’d be one of these two dopey boys.

It’s obvious neither of them are going to speak first, probably not wanting to push you incase you weren’t ready to talk about it yet (though, the intensity of their stares were doing just that), so you decide to take the initiative before the awkward tension can get even more unbearable.

“We broke up.”

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip of your gradually cooling hot chocolate as you allow them to absorb the new information.

“Well, shit.” Baekhyun coughs. Chanyeol reaches behind you to smack the back of his head, hissing something about being insensitive but you’re already more than aware of how they feel about your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend.

Since you first started talking to him, neither of the boys were his biggest fan. To their credit, they tried their best to be supportive, but it was hard to miss the dampening of the mood whenever you brought him up and the glares they’d shoot in his direction when they thought you weren’t paying attention. You called them out on their passive aggressive behavior on a number of occasions, and they were always quick to defend themselves with the claim of getting ‘bad vibes’.

Looking back, you probably should’ve given their suspicions some deeper consideration.

But you had just liked him so much. It was hard for you to see past the handsome, charming exterior to what really laid beneath. Gilded boys had always been your weakness, always enchanting you with the prettiest of lies only to shatter you with their ugly truths.

You should have known better.

“Are you alright?”

You shrug, sucking your lower lip into your mouth with a heavy exhale from your nose. “I’m fine, really. I’m just... embarrassed, I guess.”

Baekhyun blinks at you in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed? He should be the embarrassed one for losing someone as amazing as you.”

“I’m embarrassed because—” you wince, bracing yourself for the response that you just know you’re about to receive, “because he dumped me.”

“What?!” Chanyeol erupts, nearly making you spill your hot cocoa from the sheer explosiveness of his reaction, “you let that literal piece of walking human trash—!”

“Chanyeol.”

At Baekhyun’s sharp interruption, the emotional younger immediately slumps, guilt painting his face as he looks at you with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You only smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“So,” Baekhyun begins cautiously, “what happened?”

No point beating around the bush now. “We were hanging out at his place. I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine in his bedroom. Confronted him. He called me a clingy bitch and told me to get the fuck out and never come back.” You say this as nonchalantly as you can manage, but your hold on the cup tightens substantially and an unmistakable thickness rises in your throat. You curse yourself silently for feeling like shit over a guy who obviously couldn’t be bothered to give even half a shit about you.

“He cheated on you?” Chanyeol leaps up from the couch, eyes wide and furious. If you were to look close enough, you were almost certain you’d see fire burning within them.

“That fucker.” Baekhyun all but snarls, hands balling into tight fists. “What’s his address?”

“Baekhyun—” you sigh, leaning forward to set your hot chocolate down on the coffee table.

“No, I’m dead serious, what’s his address?” He pins you with a look that tells you he is very much not messing around. They were being ridiculous, angry over things they couldn’t change. It was pointless and harmful to dwell on things that had already happened. You’d much rather pick yourself up and move on than allow yourself to keep hurting over a stupid boy.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. And your best friends are not the types to just let things go. Not when the people they care about are wronged.

Chanyeol seems to be off in his own little world, ranting furiously to himself while cracking his knuckles in a way that is probably meant to be intimidating (though, to you, the giant puppy is anything but). “There’s no way I’m letting a piece of shit like him get away with this. God, I knew he was a scumbag the moment I laid eyes in him. I should’ve—”

“Guys, please.” Your voice cracks when you finally intervene, and that’s all it takes for their immediate anger to fizzle out.

The tension in their shoulders melts, their features softening drastically as they spot the glistening of tears in your eyes despite your feeble attempts to blink them away. In an instant, they’re cuddling back up against you, murmuring soft apologies and pleading for you not to cry over someone like him. But the dam is already broken, and salty tears are swelling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Everything you’d been holding back comes bubbling violently towards the surface. Sobs wrack your chest, and you cling onto the hands of either boy as they watch you helplessly.

Chanyeol, the big softie that he is, has to bite his lip to keep the tears threatening to swell in his own eyes at bay. He’s never been good at holding himself together when he sees you hurting. He feels everything with his entire being, his empathy for his friends and the people he cares about on another level. But that big, stupid heart of his is one of the many reasons you adore him.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is not the most suave when it comes to comforting people. Most of the time he’ll try to crack jokes and make light of the situation, but he knew better than to break out his usual antics when you were in such a state. So he held his tongue, opting to wrap his hand around yours in hopes of comforting you in even the slightest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You groan once your sobs subside into sniffles and you feel the warm flush of embarrassment filtering into your cheeks at your own outburst. You really hated crying in front of people. So it wasn’t too often that your friends, or anybody for that matter, saw such a raw display from you. “It’s just so frustrating and humiliating, you know?”

There’s a moment of silence as you wipe the tears from your face with the hand not held in a death grip by Baekhyun. It’s the nice kind of silence though, the kind you don’t have to fill and don’t really want to, encasing the three of you in a little bubble of comfort. Of course, with these two, you can’t expect it to last long.

“If I ever see him again,” Chanyeol huffs, dropping his chin onto your shoulder, “it’s on sight.”

You laugh at that, the sound hoarse and nasally and just plain awful, but genuine nonetheless. Raising a hand, you comb it through his soft black locks in a show of gratitude.

“Baek?” You turn to him with a sniffle. He hums softly in acknowledgement, tracing comforting circles against the top of your hand. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“What? Is my hot cocoa not good enough for you?” He teases light-heartedly and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“It’s delicious. But I was thinking of something… a little stronger.”

A mischievous grin upturns the corners of his lips as he realizes what you’re suggesting. “I’ve got just what you need.”

“You know what, FUCK MEN. They’re all stupid. Who needs ‘em? Not me.”

“Yeah men are assholes!” Baekhyun agrees loudly, thrusting his empty shot glass in the air, before pausing and reconsidering his words. “Wait, I’m a man.”

“You and Yeol are the only exceptions.” You reassure, slapping your hand down on his shoulder. He grins widely at that, satisfied. “But every other man— they can all suck my dick,” you continue your tirade, swinging your hands around animatedly, “they’re all liars and cheats and idiots and I’ve had enough of they’re bullshit to last three lifetimes.”

Chanyeol giggles softly from where he’s situated on the floor between your legs which are draped lazily over either of his broad shoulders, his head resting on your thigh, obviously amused by your tipsy antics.

The first shot went down hard, more bitter than your resentment for your piece of shit ex-boyfriend. The second soothed the ache in your chest and allowed for the tension in your muscles to gradually ebb away. And the third? Well, you opted to take your time sipping on that one, not wanting to completely lose yourself in the intoxicating buzz.

You were never the biggest drinker, but sometimes a few shots of something a little stronger than beer helps take the edge off. Right now seems as good a time as any for some liquid courage.

“You wanna know the worst part?”

However, one of the biggest reasons you erred on the side of caution around alcohol was because you had a tendency to spill things that didn’t necessarily need to be exposed. Especially not to your tipsy best friends at three in the morning when emotions ran high and couldn’t be easily stifled.

“What?” Baekhyun leans closer, eyes wide and burning with curiosity at the sudden somberness of your voice. Chanyeol tilts his head back at the shift in tone, looking up at you through dark lashes.

“In the three years we were together,” the two boys strain their ears as your voice drops into a careful whisper, as if someone other than them was around to hear the secret you hadn’t dared to share with a single soul up until this point, “he only ate me out once.”

For a moment, you think the disbelief that flashes across their faces is because you’ve brought up something of a sexual nature. But that thought is quickly squashed.

“Once? In three years? Is he insane?!”

“Shows what kind of man he really is.” Baekhyun scoffs, clicking his tongue. “Did you go down on him?”

You nod in reluctant confirmation, still sober enough to feel the slightest pinch of shame at your admission.

“That’s not how it works! Sex is about give and take, balance,” Chanyeol enunciates the word carefully, and you can’t help the upward twitch of your lips at the seriousness of his expression and the passion behind his words, “You can’t just receive without giving anything back!”

“He said he didn’t like it. And he only did it that one time because we fought on my birthday two years ago and he felt bad.” You explain, pouting heavily as you recall all the times he refused to go down on you.

Baekhyun blanches, jaw dropping. “You haven’t been eaten out in two years? Oh, baby...” you can feel the empathy rolling off of them in thick waves as they allow the new information to really sink in.

“I know, I know! Please don’t make me think about it anymore.” You whine distraughtly, rubbing your hands roughly down your face as frustration and annoyance bubble up inside of you. “I’m already pent up enough as is. That selfish bastard— he couldn’t even make up for it with his stupid dick either. He was all talk when it came to things like that. He only ever cared about getting himself off. It didn’t matter if I felt good as long as he could get his dick wet. What bullshit! Do you even know how many orgasms I had to fake?!”

Everything you’d kept inside comes exploding out of you in a rush of fiery passion, refusing to remain bottled up for even a moment longer. But of course, the moment it’s out and unable to be taken back, you regret saying anything about it at all. Red hot embarrassment floods your senses and you sink in on yourself, slapping a hand over your offending lips.

Damnit. You really shouldn’t have taken that third shot.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. That was— I shouldn’t have—” you attempt to backtrack, mouth twisted into a grimace.

There’s an exchange of glances that you don’t see, too wrapped up in your own humiliation to notice.

Then, a gentle hand slides over your thigh and you jolt in surprise, head snapping up to find a very serious Baekhyun looking back at you. You’d never seen this kind of expression on his face before. It was different then his usual playful grin or teasing smirk. Darker, somehow... dangerous. Like he was looking right through you and seeing everything you’d kept so carefully bottled up inside. It incites within you a vulnerability you had long forgotten.

“When was the last time you came?”

The question catches you off guard, to say the very least.

“Shit, i-it’s not like I keep track.” You laugh weakly, trying not to focus on the warmth seeping into your lower belly or the proximity of their bodies. But then his fingers are feathering over the curve of your knee and your heart is picking up speed and you’re left wondering at which point this conversation took such a turn.

Between your legs, Chanyeol shifts and your gaze snap down just in time to see him turn to face you fully, something dark and unfamiliar stirring within those big brown eyes. On instinct, you try to close your legs, but the sheer largeness of his body nestled comfortably between them prevents you from doing anything of the sort.

There’s no ignoring the rush of heat that ignites in your core, the closeness too much for your body to process all at once, only fueled by the long neglected desire for some kind of release.

And the fact that all he needed to do was get just a little bit closer—

But those are most definitely not the types of thoughts you should be having about your best friends. No matter how attractive they are. No matter how good Baekhyun’s pretty hand feels, slowly edging it’s way higher and higher up your thigh. No matter how cute the look on Chanyeol’s face is, a searing blush turning his full cheeks a fiery shade of red that easily consumes the entirety of his handsome face.

Fuck. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Y/n…”

Oh god. Why did your name have to sound like that coming from his lips?

Baekhyun’s fingers find your chin, gently coaxing your attention away from the man kneeling before you and back onto him. Your breathing has become shallow and fast, the insufficient amount of oxygen making you feel somewhat lightheaded. But the sensation is not a wholly unwelcome one. Not when his own smooth, liquor stained breath is like ambrosia on your tongue— heavy and rich and dangerously tempting.

“That piece of shit couldn’t make you feel good, could he?”

“No.” You swallow around the word, willing your treacherous eyes away from the entrancing curve of his pink mouth.

“No…” he repeats softly, tracing his thumb lightly over the flesh of your lower lip, “but I can— we can.” He lowers his gaze, tempting yours to follow as he ticks a brow at the younger boy. “… can’t we, Chanyeol?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol breathes without a moment’s hesitation, nuzzling his nose against the inside of your knee, warm fingertips teasing the cool skin of your ankles before he’s quickly amending, “if it’s what you want.”

Baekhyun’s lips feather over the shell of your burning ear and you feel consumed.

“Do you want it?”

“This is crazy.” It’s a deliberate avoidance of the question and you both know it.

He cocks his head, the corner of his lip curling into a teasing little grin that makes you feel like he can read your mind. “Is it?”

Yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue. But you would be a dirty, filthy liar if you said it had never crossed your mind.

The thought of you and them.

Usually one... sometimes both.

But those had just been fleeting fantasies when nothing else could satiate the unrelenting heat in your belly, shameful fantasies that, for the most part, you kept locked up tight in the furthest corner of your mind and only let out at the darkest hour of the night, when the midnight winds carried away the trembling breaths of their names, a whispered secret shared only between you and the moon. Only then would you dare to bask in their phantom caresses, allow your mind to conjure up images of their faces, twisted in beautiful bliss.

It was a dangerous game you played, but god, it felt too good to be wrong.

Or maybe that was just you trying to rationalize getting off to the thought of your best friends.

After a few moments of you grappling for the right words, Baekhyun tentatively intervenes with the thick, tension-filled silence that had encased the space around you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. No pressure from us, sweetheart. I understand two at once can be a bit... intimidating.”

Though he started out in a tone that suggested reassurance and understanding, that last phrase, donning an underlying pitch of provocation, gives you pause.

“Are you suggesting you don’t think I could handle the two of you?” There’s a low scoff to your words, a spark of competitiveness that only Byun Baekhyun himself could draw out of you igniting in your stomach.

He smiles at you innocently, walking two fingers up the length of your thigh. “Not at all.” Something about the glint in his eye tells you that that is exactly what he was suggesting.

A light pout touches your lips and you lower your gaze to the man on the floor. “Chanyeol?”

You don’t need to elaborate for him to understand what you’re asking, that familiar boyish grin curling across his face as he props his chin on top of your knee.

“I think you could handle me just fine.”

A shiver ricochets down your spine at the divine way the words drip from his lips, thick and honey like, sensual in their suggestive nature. You hold his burning stare for a few moments longer than you probably should have, feeling yourself slowly being devoured by the dark, ravenous hunger that swirls within it. This was a fire you were not accustomed to seeing ablaze in Chanyeol. You were used to the fire of his competitiveness, the searing flame of his imperishable passion.

But this— this was something new all together.

If you were to touch him, you wonder if you would be able to feel the savage heat of it against your fingertips.

At your sides, your hands itch to find out. But a gentle tug at the string of your- er, Chanyeol’s sweatpants pulls your mind away from that specific thought. You can’t help the shaky gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of Baekhyun’s hands hovering dangerously close to your heat. You can only watch, melting into a puddle of pure need as he twirls the string nonchalantly around his beautiful fingers, slipping his two middle digits into one of the loops and proceeding to curl them in a way that made your mind jump to highly inappropriate possibilities.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His teeth graze the shell of your ear and the wetness forming between your thighs increases tenfold as the smooth tenor of his voice thrums through your skull.

“I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

You’re not sure who leaned in first. But the next thing you know, your lips are on his. There’s no time to dwell on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend, your mind rapidly growing hazy from the unexpected intensity. There’s a certain viciousness in his ministrations, a brutality to his lust that he breathes into your lungs and sends blazing through your veins. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

You can’t help the surprised moan that escapes you when he takes your tongue between his lips and sucks, a low content hum reverberating through his chest before he releases you with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Fuck,” he groans languidly, “You taste like chocolate, baby.”

Calloused hands are curling around your jaw before you can fully recuperate, drawing your attention away from Baekhyun just in time to see Chanyeol’s rapidly approaching face. His dark eyes are hooded and wanting, the faintest of pouts residing on his red-bitten mouth as he breathes in an almost whining tone, “I wanna taste.”

You can think of no reason to object.

His lips slip over yours with a gentleness that is almost staggering. Despite his impatience, there’s an underlying hesitance to his motions, an uncertainty that gives you the feeling that… he’s waiting for you to take the lead. And you do such with fervor.

Raising a hand, you slip gentle fingers up the length of his throat and give an experimental squeeze, not hard enough to do anything other than apply a bit of pressure, but just enough to get your message across.

I’m in charge.

The delighted moan he produces in response makes your lips curl devilishly.

But you’re not given the opportunity to relish in the hot rush of power long, a second pair of lips attaching to your throat making you waver. A hot tongue laves over your collarbone, followed by the sharp pressure of teeth and your jaw goes slack.

Did Baekhyun just bite you?

And… why didn’t you hate it?

Chanyeol takes your open mouth as an invitation, smoothly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Fuck. He tastes like cinnamon and liquor, a combination you had no idea could be so addictive.

Mind dazed and sufficiently distracted, you don’t notice the hand slipping beneath the fabric of your sweats until a shock of pleasure bolts up your spine. You gasp, breaking the kiss as your eyes drop in order to see which of the two boys is the culprit. Baekhyun lets out a low groan, feathering gentle touches over the soaking fabric of your underwear.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He growls dangerously in your ear. “We’ve barely even started. Are you already that excited?”

You shudder involuntarily, only managing a hoarse moan when he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He chuckles tauntingly, as if you’ve just proved his point, but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed with the way his skilled fingers are stroking your clothed heat.

The heaviness of Chanyeol’s gaze boring into you, devouring every detail of your blissed expression, only serves in making the sensations all the more intense. You attempt to grind yourself down into Baekhyun’s touch, seeking more friction, only to whimper in dismay as he withdraws completely, leaving you cold, unsatisfied, and aching for more.

“Baekhyun—”

“Take them off.” The abruptness of the command has your breath catching in your throat and a telling warmth fluttering through your core. You weren’t accustomed to hearing Baekhyun’s voice like this, so different from his usually light hearted teasing and playful jibes that it throws you for a moment. He cocks a brow amid your stunned silence, licking over the seam of his lip. “What? You need help?”

Snapping yourself out of it, you swing your gaze over to Chanyeol, offering him a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Can’t say I’d mind it.”

“I’m happy to lend a hand.” He hums, shooting you a playful wink that has a wide smile breaking across your face. He makes quick work of your borrowed sweats, easily tugging the loose fabric down the length of your legs and casting it aside carelessly. You watch the way his eyes flit greedily over the expense of your bare thighs, relishing the low, strained groan that flutters from his gaping lips when his attention fixes on the thin, black, lacy material that separates him from your soaking pussy.

“Those, too,” you instruct softly, sinking your teeth into the inside of your cheek. He swallows, and goes to reach for them, only to draw back abruptly when you swat his hands away with a sound of disapproval, “uh-uh. Do it with your teeth.”

Chanyeol’s breath hitches, a severe blush rushing into his cheeks.

Beside you, Baekhyun grins wildly. “That’s my girl.”

You smirk to yourself at the praise, but don’t remove your eyes from Chanyeol’s for a single moment, absolutely loving the pretty shade of red his handsome face has taken on.

Slowly, he dips his head, not daring to break your gaze as he latches his teeth onto the thin black lace on your underwear and begins to drag them down the length of your legs. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, soothed by the press of his hot palms as they trail his descent down your thighs, over the curves of your knees, down your calves, until you are left bare and exposed before them.

Fuck. That was so hot.

“Cute, isn’t he?” Baekhyun hums playfully against your jaw, like the whisper of the devil in your ear. You let out a trembling breath as the younger boy presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, nodding with an airy sigh of ‘ so cute’. Baekhyun nips at the juncture of your throat, and you can only watch with bated breath as he reaches a hand between your thigh, dragging his long middle finger through your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Want your sweet Chanyeollie to eat your pretty cunt, baby? Hm? Want him to make you feel good?”

Your chest rises rapidly, fast, shallow breaths swirling into your lungs. His filthy words curl beneath your nose, thrumming in your ears, intoxicating and disorienting in their deadly temptation. Desperation tugs at every nerve in your body and your hips buck and roll, chasing his caress. Want pools, dark and heavy, in Chanyeol’s hooded eyes as he watches his friend’s teasing ministrations. He licks his lips, full and pink and glistening in the low light of their apartment and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Fuck yes.” The words are nothing less than a growl in the back of your throat, a sound you never thought yourself capable of producing.

Baekhyun suddenly reaches forward, weaving his fingers through Chanyeol’s thick hair and tugging him forward. The younger gives no resistance, bracing his hands on your lower thighs as he allows himself to be guided to you. His lips part, tongue peeking out, and your anticipation skyrockets. But then he stops just short, and all you’re left with is the faint caress of his warm breath to soothe the insatiable ache between your hips. You almost whimper.

Chanyeol’s nostrils flare, eyes sharpening in annoyance as he shoots a glare up in Baekhyun’s direction. He only grins and arches a brow. “What? You’re not gonna ask for it first? Where are your manners, Yeol?” He gasps mockingly, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You don’t expect Chanyeol to give in at first, not with how competitive he could be and especially not with Baekhyun acting so damn condescending. But then he does, and you forget how to breathe.

“Please, y/n,” he pants hotly against your skin, “I wanna taste you so bad. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good. Please. Fuck, please.” A low, needy groan trembles in the back of his throat, clinging to that last ravenous plea. He snags his lower lip between his teeth and you feel yourself throb. The man looks down right sinful, Baekhyun still clutching onto his inky locks, forcing a slight strain in his neck as he looks up at you with those damn eyes that make your stomach churn and your mind spin.

God, he’s so beautiful.

Overwhelmed with the need to touch him, you nudge Baekhyun’s hand out of the way and replace it with your own, immediately loving the feeling of Chanyeol’s soft hair sliding between your fingers. His eyes flutter under the gentleness of your grip, lips parting as he breathes a delicate sigh, gazing up at you expectantly.

“Come here, Yeolie.”

He’s more than happy to comply.

The first stroke of his tongue sends sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body, a silent gasp shaping your lips. He looks up at you through dark lashes, encouraged and invigorated by your responsiveness to him, licking eagerly at your cunt. Soft moans flutter through his chest, and you shiver at the faint vibrations that are sent pulsing through you.

“Fuck, Chan,” you hiss, rocking your hips forward when he laves over your clit. The friction makes your skin tremble, a dangerous heat rising beneath it. If you knew he was this good with his mouth, you would have jumped his bones a whole lot sooner.

Another moan builds in your chest, but it’s abruptly stifled when Baekhyun tangles a hand into your hair and pulls you into a kiss that doesn’t fail to knock the air out of your lungs. Having both of their mouths on you makes your head spin and you can’t decide which to focus on. You’ve never been with more than one person at the time and it’s slightly overwhelming to suddenly have two men— two gorgeous men at that, both eager and willing to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced.

Warm fingers suddenly slip beneath the thick fabric of your sweatshirt, and you shiver as they glide over your skin, light and teasing in advance towards your chest. A tremor wracks your spine when he pinches a nipple, squeezing his digits around the shape of your breast. Your back arches unconsciously, and you feel him smirk. Distracted, you don’t feel the burn of Chanyeol’s impatient glare until his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Yelping in shock, you snap your gaze back down to the younger boy, disbelief coloring your features. He has the audacity to smirk at you, cocking a brow in a manner that has a mixture of annoyance and arousal flaring up in your gut. Any glimmer of smug accomplishment is quickly washed from his face when your hand shoots down and roughly grips the hair on the back of his head, yanking him upwards until your nose to nose.

“Watch your teeth, Yeolie.” You murmur darkly.

“Or what?” The corner of your mouth twitches at his gutsy response.

“Or I’ll make sure to edge you until you cry.”

His eyes widen at the threat and he swallows thickly. From your peripheral, you see the crotch of his grey sweatpants rise.

“Oh? But it looks like you’d like that.” A deep crimson flush rushes into his ears and tinges the tips of his ears and he lowers his eyes, unable to hold your mirthful gaze any longer. “I guess I’ll just have to think of a better punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes out airy and desperate, the natural rasp making the knot in your stomach tighten, “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.” You search his blown pupils for any sign of dishonesty, but find only sincerity and intoxicating lust. Satisfied, you release your tight grip on his hair in favor of gently stroking your knuckles over his blushing cheek.

“Then be a good boy and show me what this pretty mouth,” you trace your thumb gently over the soft, pink flesh of his lower lip, “can really do.”

The moment he’s released from your entrancing gaze, his mouth is on you again, eating you out with a fervor you’ve never before experienced. Your hips buck against him, your head tipping back as you let out rasping groans.

“Fuck, Yeol. That’s it, baby. Good boy.” He moans against you as spill praise after praise, lapping hungrily at your soaking pussy.

“That was so fucking sexy.” Baekhyun growls roughly, kissing you hard once before he’s pulling away to speak again. “Watching you boss him around, take control like that…” his voice drawls into a low groan, “really does something to me.”

“Yeah?” You ask shakily, mind whirling as Chanyeol buries his tongue inside of you. Baekhyun grins, humming lightly in confirmation. “Maybe you should let me boss you around, too.”

“Not a chance.” He chuckles. “Maybe next time. But tonight…” your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing ever so gently, “your mine, sweetheart.”

Next time. He said next time.

There’s going to be a next time.

The amount of joy you receive from those two simple words borders on irrational.

“I— oh fuck!” You can only cry out in bliss as Chanyeol wraps his lips around your clit, sucking roughly. Your hips jerk and grind, moving on their own accord as he draws you closer and closer to your high. God, you’re so close you can taste it. Your trembling hands find purchase in his hair once more, desperate to hold onto something as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“You gonna cum all over Yeolie’s tongue, baby? You gonna cum for us?” Baekhyun coos encouragingly against your jaw, and you can only whimper and nod frantically, unable to speak when Chanyeol sinks a long finger into your wet cunt, fucking you skillfully with his digit while he focuses his mouth on abusing your throbbing clit until your reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess on their living room couch.

“Yes— oh god, yes.”

When the coil snaps, it snaps hard. You can only manage a strangled whimper when it crashes over you. How long had it been since you last come on something other than your own hand? Weeks? Months? You can’t recall. But honestly how much does it really matter when your best friend’s face is nestled snug between your thighs?

The muscles of your legs seize and tremble beneath the force of your release, only held open by Chanyeol’s strong hands. He is unrelenting even as you come undone around him, tongue rolling over your clit, finger curling against your walls as his heady, hooded eyes devour you. You only manage to get him to detach him from you when you give a weak tug at his hair, the post-orgasm sensitivity proving too much for your body to handle.

“F– fuck.” You shiver, panting as tendrils of residual pleasure lick at your senses, the cold phantom of his tongue making you clench around nothing but empty air is pathetic greed. “Fuck, come here.”

Chanyeol is quick to rise onto his knees, obedient as ever, letting out a soft gasp of surprise as you cup his face and draw him into a heated kiss. He melts into you, large hands finding purchase on your thighs (which are still shaking) and caressing them soothingly.

“Thank you,” you breathe against his mouth, “thank you. Thank you.”

You feel him smiling as you continue to express your gratitude in gentle words spoken between deep, passionate kisses and it’s not long before his smile turns into something wide and toothy and uncontainable and he’s bursting into a fit of giggles as you resort to peppering the rest of his face in playful kisses.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Save the aftercare for when we’re done, yeah?” Baekhyun’s lilting hum draws your attention, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“We’re not done?”

His brows jump, that familiar lopsided smirk offsetting his pretty lips. “Are you kidding me? We’ve got two years worth of orgasms to make up for. We’re nowhere near finished.” A shiver of excitement ricochets down your spine at the promise laced into his words, and you have to bite your lip to keep a wide grin at bay.

Suddenly, Baekhyun rises from the couch and it’s with immense effort that you refrain from staring directly at the prominent bulge straining against the thin fabric of his plaid pajama pants. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him as he extends a hand. “Come on. The bedroom is much more comfortable to get your brains fucked out in. Speaking from experience.” You scoff at the sleazy smirk he shoots you, but slide your hand into his nonetheless.

The moment you’re on your feet, your knees buckle and you nearly topple. Luckily for you, Chanyeol has remarkable reflexes (when it counts) and catches you by the waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Shit, Yeol. You really did a number on her.” Baekhyun remarks teasingly. A feverish blush rises up your neck and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up.”

He bites the corner of his lip, gives you a heated once over that leaves your skin burning and trembling, before spinning on his heels sauntering in the direction of his bedroom door. He stops in the frame for a brief moment and shoots you a sultry wink from over his shoulder. “Come make me.”

Fuck.

Chanyeol let’s out a yelp of surprise as you lace your fingers through his and tug him hurriedly in the direction of his roommate’s bedroom. The very second that you’re through the door, lips connect with yours, stealing the very air from your lungs and obliterating any last remaining bit of your sanity. Hands seize your half naked body, eagerly exploring the expanse of your feverish skin. They tug at the hindering fabric of your sweatshirt, until all at once it is being pulled over your head and cast off carelessly somewhere in the darkness. You don’t even shiver, the heat of their bodies surrounding you and warding off the cool air.

Chanyeol takes the opportunity to slide a hand beneath your chin and tilt your head back so that it rests on his shoulder, the tip of his tongue flicking over your lips until they part, welcoming him in. Reaching back, you grab hold of his hips, tugging them forward and guiding them in a slow grinding motion against your ass. He moans hotly at the frictions, kiss turning sloppy as pleasure rushes through him.

You’re distinctly aware of the pressure of Baekhyun’s own mouth beginning a slow descent, starting from your jaw, gliding down the length of your throat, pausing to lick and suck at your sensitive nipples, kissing with a staggering tenderness over your belly. Then you hear his knees hit the floor. All at once, his tongue flattens against your clit, and you have to break away from Chanyeol as your body jolts violently in response. There’s still lingering sensitivity from your first orgasm, amplifying the pleasure tenfold.

And god, it’s so good.

“F– fuck, Baek—” your voice breaks off into a trembling whimper, hips bucking as he sinks a finger into your heat. Followed shortly thereafter by a second. Then a third. The stretch has you keening, leaning the full weight of your body against Chanyeol’s sturdy chest. He’s the only thing keeping you upright at the moment. Had you been left to your own devices, you would have already collapsed.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for us, baby.” Baekhyun hums with a lightness entirely unfitting for the current situation, nipping at the inside of your thigh. He supplies you with a slow, calculated thrust, biting his lip harshly as he watches your glistening arousal coat his digits. “Fucking hell, your soaking.”

You whimper shakily, head tipping back as Chanyeol nips and sucks at the juncture of your throat, his large hands gliding over the shape of your body as if he intends to commit it to memory— caressing every curve, fondling every edge, touching you, worshipping you with a reverence that pours into your very soul. You’ve never been touched like this before. Most men just think they have a right to you the second your clothes are off (some even before that). There’s no respect, no appreciation, nothing but dirty lust.

But this— this is different. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put into words. The way he’s touching you, like you’re a precious work of art, it makes you feel good. It makes you feel… beautiful. Something you rarely, if ever, felt when you were with your ex.

Baekhyun swirls his tongue around your clit and simultaneously curls his fingers, successfully stroking that long neglected bundle of nerves inside of you. The sensations it sets off inside of you are intense and overwhelming, and within seconds you’re coming for a second time. This orgasm comes completely unexpectedly and without any real warning outside of the breakneck explosion of pleasure that has stars scattering across your vision.

“Baek—!” you can only manage a broken yelp of his name as your body convulses above him, wracked and disoriented by the sudden, explosive burst of ecstasy. Now your shivering, trembling and gasping violently, but not from the cold. He watches in wonder as you unravel, clenching so tightly around his fingers that he can only begin to imagine what you’ll feel like coming around his cock. Shit, he can’t wait to be inside of you. He’s throbbing at the mere thought of it.

Chanyeol’s no better off, barely holding himself back from rutting against you like some kind of animal. But he wants to impress you, show you he has some semblance of self control even when it feels like he might burst in his pants at any given moment. He wants to be good for you. So for now, he can only watch with bated breath, painfully hard in his sweats, as your face contorts into an expression of pure bliss. God, you look so beautiful like this he almost can’t stand it. How could anyone let someone like you go?

“Holy f-fuck.” You whimper, attempting to catch your breath as your high begins to fade. Baekhyun has plastered a cocky grin across his face by the time you look down at him, though his eyes still sparkle with something indecipherable.

“That was a good one.” He says, carefully retracting his fingers from your heat as Chanyeol hums in agreement, nuzzling his nose behind your ear comfortingly when you shudder and whine at the emptiness. “We’re gonna break her at this rate.”

“Not a chance,” you interject firmly, albeit somewhat breathlessly, “I’m a lot tougher than you think.” It’s the truth, but the quiver in your voice begs to differ.

“So you can handle another one?” Baekhyun asks, rising to his full height.

You hold his fiery gaze. “I can handle anything you give me.”

Something in his eyes darkens. “Careful, sweetheart. You have… no idea the kind of filthy, depraved things I want to do to you.” His voice drops an octave, and, despite having already come twice (twice as many times as you were used to), your greedy cunt still throbs with need.

Boldly, you extend a hand, caressing over his clothed length, and feel a surge of pride when he inhales sharply, hard gaze faltering.

Leaning forward, you feather your lips over his, teasing. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, you know that. But you’re enjoying it far too much to stop now.

“Show me.”

Those two little words are all it takes to break Byun Baekhyun.

“Bed. Now.”

Perhaps you’re just a little too eager to comply, barely biting back a grin of excitement as you turn tail and scramble to his king sized bed.

The disheveled sheets welcome you into their embrace, still warm in the spot Baekhyun had occupied prior your unannounced visit. They smell of him, you notice, the coconut of his shampoo, the milk & honey of his body wash, the soft vanilla of his perfume. You recognize the latter as the bottle he “borrowed” from you a few months back and had yet to return. Not that you really mind. You secretly like the fact that he smells like you.

Chanyeol is first to round the side of the bed, ridding himself of his clothes along the way. Shirt first, then pants, and you can’t help but giggle as he hops clumsily out of his boxers, nearly bumping into the nightstand before he falls gracelessly onto the mattress beside you, offering up a sheepish grin.

“Sexy, aren’t I?” Sarcasm bleeds through his tone, embarrassment hot on his cheeks, though it’s quickly soothed as you draw him into a gentle kiss.

“Excruciatingly.” You enunciate teasingly, nipping at the tip of his nose.

The bed dips around your ankles, and you peer down to see a very primal looking Baekhyun crawling towards you, like a predator honing in on his prey. The carnal hunger pooling in his hooded eyes hits you straight in the chest, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Slotting himself between your hips, you could easily make out every inch of his length resting against your stomach, hot and hard and throbbing. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone inside of you this badly. His head lowers to your throat and he sets your skin ablaze with open mouthed kisses. Chanyeol makes sure the opposite side of your neck isn’t neglected long, feeling the erratic pulsing of your carotid artery beneath the slow strokes of his tongue. Your head falls back into the pillows, a sigh fluttering from your lips as you’re bathed in their affections.

Baekhyun slips a hand beneath your knee, hooking it over his hip. Your lungs tremble with excitement when he slides his tip slowly through your wet folds.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars.”

“I already have,” you smirk lazily in response, snagging the corner of your lip between your teeth, “Twice.”

He doesn’t seem discouraged, curving a hand around the shape of your jaw and feathering his mouth over yours as his eyes glint with something sinful and electrifying. “Then I’m gonna show you the goddamn galaxy.”

There’s no time to respond before his hips are rolling forward, filling you to the hilt with one smooth stroke. A breathless gasp trembles from his throat, “fuck.”

“Does she feel good?” The question that escapes Chanyeol is weak and needy, strained and rough, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He almost sounds like he’s struggling, battling with himself internally as he watches his best friend’s cock disappear inside of our cunt with a lewd squelch. The searing heat of his gaze makes you whine in pathetic desperation, no longer unable to form coherent words to express your desire.

“Fucking Christ, Yeol. She’s so tight a-and wet— ah, fucking perfect.” Baekhyun’s shoulders arch, a tremor rippling down his spine as your walls constrict around him, squeezing so tightly he almost loses himself then and there. But he manages to hold back, bracing a hand on your hip as he pushes himself up right.

“Baek, please.”

There’s no need for elaboration. He knows exactly what you’re asking for. And hell, he’s more than happy to provide.

The first thrust of his hips has your back arching off of the mattress, mouth opening in silent bliss. The pace he sets is punishing, fast and deep and rough. His blunt nails dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, but you relish in it, pain and pleasure coming together to create the perfect cocktail. The lingering sensitivity from your two previous orgasms only serves to heighten the ecstasy that you're experiencing. And with Chanyeol pressed against your side, large, calloused hands and gentle lips making sure each and every inch of you is receiving attention, it doesn’t take long at all before you feel that coil in your stomach tightening.

“I’m not gonna last.” You moan weakly, clinging to Chanyeol like he’s your one and only lifeline.

“Fuck, come on, beautiful. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” Baekhyun growls, snapping his hips roughly into yours. You cry out desperately when Chanyeol trails a hand down your body, circling a careful finger around your clit.

“Oh god, please. Please, Yeol. Harder. Baek— fuck, please.” You’re on the verge of tears, muscles shuddering violently as the white hot pleasure pulses through your veins.

“Who are you begging, sweetheart?” Baekhyun grins down at you devilishly, licking at his teeth as his eyes glow with something dangerous and powerful. Your stomach whirls, and you nearly headbutt Chanyeol when your body lurches, entirely overwhelmed. It’s so much— too much— but, somehow, not enough.

Your legs squeeze around Baekhyun’s hips, heels pressing into the swells of his ass, urging him deeper as you implore him wordlessly for more. You want everything, however selfish that may sound. You want it all. Every last piece of him.

This time around, you’re more than grateful that he can read you so well.

Simultaneously, the two boys fiercen their ministrations: Baekhyun, fucking himself into you so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall; Chanyeol, applying enough pressure to your sensitive clit that your sanity nearly flies out the window. Within seconds, entangled in the staggering heat of their bodies, you come undone.

Damn. Baekhyun wasn’t kidding about showing you the galaxy.

Never in your life have you experienced an orgasm like this. One that tears through your very being like a raging tsunami. You feel it rippling through every cell, igniting every nerve ending in fiery ecstasy.

Baekhyun is barely able to hold himself together as you unravel beneath him, his entire body trembling and sweating with the effort of fighting back his own high, which is threatening to break over him at any given second. The mere sight of you is almost enough to do him in, but he wants to make sure to ride you through yours before he allows himself even a taste of his own. Harder said than done when you look so good and feel ever better, clenching and pulsing around him and god he’s about to lose his fucking mind.

He’s panting and groaning, rolling his hips deeply into yours, keeping himself teetering dangerously on that edge. But it’s you, your voice whimpering his name, your fluttering, teary eyes barely able to keep themselves open looking up at him, that finally breaks him. He bucks into you sharply, hips spluttering, body shaking as he spills himself. It’s sudden and it’s messy and it’s the most goddamn beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

The moment he’s finished, he collapses on top of you, completely out of breath and red in the face; thoroughly fucked out. But that doesn’t stop him from bathing you in whispered praises.

“You’re so amazing. You did so well. You’re so beautiful.”

His words warm your heart, which is just barely beginning to return to a more natural rhythm. They lick the wounds from the nights previous events, soothe the ache that was long forgotten in the thralls of your best friends’ soothing touch.

Baekhyun pulls out of you carefully, and you have to physically stop yourself from pouting at the emptiness and loss of the weight and warmth of his body as he rolls off of you, flopping onto the mattress at your side with a huff of hazy laughter.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, a dopey smile plastered across his face as he tosses an arm over his eyes, “that was amazing.”

“So fucking amazing.” You emphasize, trying uselessly to catch your breath.

It’s only when you feel something nudging at your opposite hip that you're able to refocus your bleary mind on the unfinished task. You turn, finding the adorable scrunched face of Chanyeol, cheeks red, eyes wanting.

The younger boy chews on his lower lip, swallowing a groan. He’s trying his best not to come off as too desperate, but you see right through him. You see how hard he is, veins thick and throbbing beneath the angry red skin, his flushed tip weeping with precum. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t touched himself yet. It looks like it hurts.

Licking your lips, you can’t help but to wonder what he might taste like, how he’d feel against your tongue, the kinds of sounds he’d make when his body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You bet he’s loud when he comes. Fuck, that deep, raspy voice would sound so good moaning your name.

… perhaps you are feeling just a little greedy.

“Yeol,” he snaps to attention at the wispy call of his name, inhaling sharply when your fingers graze his thigh, “come here.”

He blinks in confusion, not understanding what you want him to do. Recognizing the lost puppy dog look, you chuckle before elaborating in far more blunt terms to avoid further misunderstanding;

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

If he were to open his eyes any wider, you were certain they’d fall straight out of his head. “I– I can’t– you just—” he stutters clumsily, shaking his head, but you can feel his body practically trembling in excitement at the implication of your words.

“Please. You’ve been so good for me. I wanna make you feel good, too, baby.” You coo, tugging at his knee once more before leaning up to graze your lips over the shell of his flushed ear. “Let me make you feel good, Yeolie.”

He shivers violently, a strangled moan breaking from his swollen mouth, and you smirk to yourself, knowing you’ve got him. He seems nervous as he pushes himself up and crawls to kneel next to your head before hesitating, blinking as he tries to figure the right way to position himself.

He’s cute when he’s concentrating.

“Like this—” you chime in. Chanyeol gasps and flushes a deep red when you guide him forward until his knees are on either side of your head, his hard length swinging proudly above your nose.

Reaching up, you take his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers. “If I tap on the back of your hand—” you demonstrate, “it means stop, okay? You have to stop immediately when I do that because I won’t be able to speak.”

He nods, expression serious, “I understand. I’ll stop if you tap on my hand.”

“Good,” you pause, a gentle smile upturning the corners of your mouth, “I trust you.”

His breath hitches. “Thank you.”

Instead of responding, you tip your chin up and trace your tongue over the underside of his cock. His hips stutter forward, a surprised moan escaping him at the unexpected contact.

“Stop teasing and feed her your cock, Chanyeol. Can’t you see how bad she wants it?” Baekhyun chuckles mockingly, sliding a lithe hand around your jaw and squeezing, forcing your mouth open even wider. Chanyeol looks down at you through blown pupils, chest heaving, lust practically radiating from his every pore. But it’s only when you offer a nod of reassurance and a look that you hope gives of even the faintest of glimpses into your immense desire for this, for him, does he finally move.

With a tenderness only Park Chanyeol could possess in a position such as this, he guides himself between your awaiting lips. You moan unabashedly as the bittersweet taste of him hits your tongue, tipping your chin up to make more of him in. A shuddering moan pulses from his chest, pitched and broken on red bitten lips. The sound is somehow even more beautiful than you imagined.

Languidly, you swirl your tongue around his weeping tip, eliciting a strained whisper of your name as the grip he has on your hands tightens substantially. He offers a slow, shallow thrust, his head dropping forward as his length slides deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. The pressure of your tongue against the underside of his cock and the heavy reverberations of your soft, encouraging moans invigorate him to set a careful rhythm, hips stroking gently forward.

Your knuckles dig into the messy sheets as he pivots his weight forward, and you quickly relax your jaw when you feel him inching closer to your throat with every thrust. Chanyeol is even more considerate than you thought he’d be, pulling out far enough between steady strokes that you can swallow lungfuls of oxygen before sliding smoothly back in, deeper and deeper each time. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes, mouth straining in order to accommodate his impressive girth. But hell, it’s worth it. Totally worth it.

His breathing became harsh and labored, filling his lungs with sharp, ragged inhales that shudder through the deep cavity of his chest. “F– fuck, y/n,” he groans hoarsely, head dipping as his eyes squeeze shut, “your mouth is— s- so good.”

Your core tightens around nothing at the rasping whimper, the faint caress of his warm breath rousing goosebumps across the damp skin of your belly. The subconscious clenching of your thighs is wholly unintentional, but it does not go unnoticed.

Chanyeol lets out a choked gasp as a hand slides into his hair, his upper body suddenly forced downwards.

“Come on, Yeolie,” Baekhyun coos tauntingly in his ear, “you were the one going on and on about balance. So why don’t you provide some… ‘give and take’, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he barely whispers, but you still feel a rush of hot breath over your core and moan throatily around his cock. He tenses and shudders in response to the delicious rush of vibrations, tightening his grip on your hands as Baekhyun guides him lower.

Honestly, you aren’t sure at first if you have another one in you. Three orgasms in one night was unimaginable before tonight. Four seemed simply unrealistic. Your poor pussy is still pulsing and trembling from the last. But the moment Chanyeol flicks his tongue over your clit, the most delicate of kitten licks, you know that you do.

This time though, it’s like molten metal boiling in the pit of your stomach, a wholly unfamiliar sensation. Each press of his lips and roll of his tongue fans the fire blazing through your veins. You try your best to keep up, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue, but it’s difficult when it feels like your brain is short circuiting. The pleasure is fiercer, more intense, rolling over you in thick, devastating waves. You’re reduced to little more a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, barely able to keep yourself from choking on his cock.

Chanyeol’s hips buck frantically as your throat constricts, his own ministrations getting rougher and sloppier the closer he gets. You feel his teeth against your clit, then two long fingers slipping through your slicks folds and fucking themselves into your pussy. Baekhyun can only groan hotly at how easily you take his digits, squeezing his opposite hand around the base of his hard dick.

“I’m gonna come,” Chanyeol whimpers hurriedly, “oh fuck I’m gonna come.”

Suddenly, his hips pulse and your bottom lip make contact with the flat of his pelvis. It takes every ounce of control you have over your body to push back your gag reflex, but the way he trembles and breaks above you is undoubtedly worth the strain. A jumbled mess of words tumble from his lips as he comes, though only your name and a select few curses are intelligible between the deep, violent moans that burst from his chest.

Tears fall from the corners of your eyes as he fucks himself into your mouth, motions stuttered and sloppy. But you swallow around him eagerly as he fills your throat with his release, which only serves in prolonging his orgasm until he’s shivering and whining and hell— each sound, each tremble has the coil in your stomach squeezing tighter and tighter.

All the while, Baekhyun’s fingers are loyally exploring your silken walls until he once again discovers that small bundle of nerves that make your head spin. Combined with Chanyeol moaning and growling against your clit— you're a dead woman.

This final orgasm is the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Every hair on your body jumps to stand at attention, oxygen suddenly igniting into flames in your lungs. You scream around Chanyeol’s cock, back bowing off the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. It’s so intense you honestly feel like you might pass out. But it’s so good, too good —fuck, it’s the best you’ve ever had!— and you want to relish in every mind numbing moment.

All at once, Chanyeol is gone from between your lips and you gasp, a rush of cool air like a glass of ice water in the torrid desert flooding into your lungs and soothing the angry blaze.

“Holy shit.”

You’re too gone in the high to make out who the strained whisper had come from, or to notice the sudden substantial amount of wetness painting the insides of your thighs and seeping into the sheets below. Your brain feels thoroughly scrambled, effectively stupefied by the prodigious pleasure and you can do nothing but bask in it.

“Have you ever done that before?” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize that the question is directed at you.

“Hmm?” You hum blearily, not bothering to try and lift your head.

“Squirting,” Baekhyun clarifies, voice thick with wonder, “have you ever done that before?”

“Squirting? No, I’ve never—” your head snaps up, eyes bulging, “I squirted?!”

If the excessive arousal currently coating (and dripping from) Chanyeol’s astonished face and the unusually large wet spot staining the sheets is anything to go by, the answer is a clear yes.

Panic strikes your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I- I am so—”

“Don’t apologize! Don’t you dare apologize.” Baekhyun abruptly cuts you off, splaying a hand over your belly. “That has to be the most— amazing thing I have ever seen. No girl has ever squirted on me before. I’m honestly honored.”

“Baekhyun, please.” You whine, pulling a pillow over your feverish face and snapping your legs shut.

“I’m serious!” He yelps indignantly, tugging the pillow away from you and tossing it to the side despite your noisy complaints. Two strong hands find either of your thighs and pry them apart in spite of your stubborn resistance, revealing the slippery mess you made on the sheets below.

Heat rushes up your neck as Chanyeol falls into position between them like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world and begins licking at your wet skin. The muscles of your thighs shake and tighten uncontrollably under the intimate ministrations, the post orgasm sensitivity extending beyond your core and into each of your limbs.

“Chan,” you whimper remorsefully, clenching your fingers in the duvet, “I can’t. I can’t.”

He smiles against your skin, licks turning into gentle kisses that make your heart flutter and melt in ways it definitely should not in response to your best friend’s big, sweet eyes. Then again— this entire situation is remarkably unconventional in regards to a typical friendship. Not that you’re complaining because really, how could you? Four orgasms? In one night? Unheard of. A part of you wonders if they were actually just trying to kill you.

While Chanyeol bathes you in his limitless affection, Baekhyun vanishes from your side and into the attached bathroom, returning only moments later with a towel saturated with hot water. You hum gratefully as he carefully scrubs away the sheen of sweat and sticky arousal clinging to your skin. And he’s considerate, too? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.

“You guys are going to ruin all other men for me, fucking hell.” You huff out a hoarse chuckle. Chanyeol suddenly flops down beside you, nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“Who needs other men when you have us?” He rebukes, large hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

You can honestly find no reason to disagree.

“Guys,” Baekhyun chimes once finished scrubbing you down, “let’s move to Chanyeol’s room. I need to throw these sheets in the washer before they get crusty. Made that mistake once. Never again.”

“I would totally do that but I’m pretty sure my legs are numb.”

“Ain’t no thang, pretty lady. I’ve got you.” Chanyeol chirps gallantly, slipping his arms beneath your legs and back. Before you can make any kind of protest, you’re being swooped off the bed and pressed into a warm chest. Shrieks of laughter peel from your lips as the gentle giant spins, and you throw your arms around his neck just for extra precaution.

“Yeolie,” Baekhyun whines mockingly, stomping his foot childishly as he plasters an exaggerated pout across his face, “you never pick me up and twirl me around like a pretty princess.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you tease, extending a leg and pressing your toes against his chest, “only room for one pretty princess in this apartment.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is.” He scoffs as he stumbles back and falls dramatically back onto the mattress, hand splayed over his heart like you had somehow managed to wound him.

“Speaking of washing,” Chanyeol chirps, glancing down at you, “How does a warm bath sound?”

“Like heaven.” You groan. “Baek, feel free to join us after you're done doing your laundry.” You shoot him a mirthful grin as Chanyeol pivots and carries you out of the room that bears the musky, filthy scent of sex.

“Wait you’re just gonna— but I—“ Baekhyun wavers, looking between your retreating figures and his stupid dirty sheets before letting out a groan of frustration and scurrying after you. “Fuck it. I’m coming, I’m coming!”

“Is your bathtub big enough to fit three people?” You question, gaze landing on Baekhyun’s cute ass as he jogs ahead.

Chanyeol shrugs, humming thoughtfully. “We can squeeze.”

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“We can definitely squeeze.”

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