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ktheist · 4 years ago

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lips? sealed. legs? spread.

premise. because of the pandemic, you’re forced to have your graduation online. but that’s not stopping you from driving down to the beach to celebrate with your friends. it just so happens that you’re the main attraction of the night.

muses. jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jeongguk x reader, yoongi x reader, yoongi x jimin.

word. 3.6k

warnings. consensual gangbang. public sex. unprotected sex. sex on the beach. bigdick!tae, bigdick!jeongguk, thick dick!jimin

note. this is pure absolute filth. idek why i wrote this.

it started with truth or dare before the word “boring” comes out of park jimin’s mouth and a “strip” added to cure that boredom to get you through the night. lisa manoban ends up stripped down to her panties and bra and steps out of the game.

“nah, i’m out, you guys have fun though.” she waves her hand in surrender, picks up her clothes and slips away from the circle to emphasize on her withdrawal from the game.

a series of ‘aww’s and ‘boo’s follow from you and the rest before hoseok disappears five minutes later, saying something about needing to take a number 1 but never coming back and getting forgotten by everyone.

he’s probably left to check up on lisa who said she was going to grab some snacks from the convenience store that’s just three minutes away from the beach.

the flames of the custom made bonfire dance in the night, cackling and laughing when it’s your turn to discard your bra. the chilly air making your nipples stand. your cheeks are burning as you cross your arm over your exposed chest. the hesitant way you look down and bite your lip is enough indication that you’re thinking twice about being the sole winner of tonight’s strip truth or dare. kim taehyung attempts to place his jacket around you but is met by a series of protests.

“if you wanna put on a jacket, you gotta be prepared to admit defeat. that’s the rule.” or so jeon jeongguk announces.

“never heard of that rule before.” kim jennie looks at him with an elaborated twist of her eyebrows to show the utter confusion and absurdity she finds in his words.

“yeah, well, now you know,” jeongguk winks.

it’s either because of the man’s flirtatious advancements or because she really needs to go to the bathroom, that she stands up, pick up the shirt and the only piece of article she’s taken off and walks towards the cars. somewhere a few feet away, the lights of the convenience store and closed diner illuminates the area.

jisoo shoots you a look that you shoot back with another look of determination. if there’s anything you’d never be caught dead doing, it’s raising the white flag before jeon jeongguk does.

so she ends up chasing after jennie on her own.

“anyone else wanna be loser?” jeongguk asks, vanity apparent in his voice.

you wonder how it’s not shivering in the cold with how he’s stripped naked to his boxers.

“i need to get some water,” seokjin announces and struts towards the direction the girls were headed.

he’s one of the lucky few that managed to keep his clothes on throughout the game.

it’s become an unspoken knowledge that the ones who backed out will go home in seokjin’s jeep.

there’s only you, taehyung, jimin, jeongguk and yoongi.

namjoon was the first to leave because his girlfriend called him crying for some reason and he’s the kind of man that would come running to his girl. somewhere in your heart, you feel a tinge of jealousy for chaeyoung for having such an amazing man who loves her to the moon and back.

“this is getting boring.” jimin confesses for the second time of the night, bringing the bottle to his plump lips.

“let’s play 7 minutes in heaven.” jeongguk suggests, “we’re all bored here.”

“but there’s just one girl...” jimin murmurs to himself.

“so? you can make out with one of us,” taehyung winks.

but jimin’s shyly looking down and smiling is the last thing you expect to see. he’d usually just brush off his best friend’s advancements by laughing or flirting back but never speechless.

“alright, here’s the bottle,” jeongguk says afer gulping down the whole content of the beer and lifting the opaque glass in the air, “game’s simple, it’s like spin the bottle but instead of making out, you spend 7 minutes in one of the cars.”

“no –not my car,” jimin complains, throwing his head back, probably recalling that time when he lent jeaongguk his car and in the morning, started blowing everyone’s phone up by spamming the group chat, sending death threats to jeongguk for those stains in the back seat.

“i’m out.” yoongi says simply, but doesn’t move from his spot which is sitting on the log between taehyung and jimin.

his porcelain skin is painted auburn from the fire in front of him. he raises the beer to his mouth and starts downing it.

“ugh okay, okay, how about just making out here for 7 minutes?” jeongguk mediates.

that receives a moderate response of ‘not-so-thrilled-but-not-against-it’ kind of nod.

jeongguk places the bottle down on the ground and yoongi plainly points, “that’s not how physics work.”

“shh,” the younger man shushes him up, “it’s gonna work.”

then he spins the bottle just a few centimeters above the sand. the opaque bottle spins in the air for the briefest moment before it lands on the grainy sand, it’s top pointed straight at you.

“okay, so me and ___ are the first pair.” he grins, excitement flashing across his eyes.

jimin goes next, mimicking jeongguk’s techniques and the bottle points at yoongi. all of a sudden, a strangled silence settles in.

the elder man makes an impressed nod –probably surprised at how things turned out.

“okay, tae, you spin the bottle and if falls on me or ___, you can join us and if it falls on jimin or yoongi, you can join them.” jeongguk says as if he’s done this plenty of times before.

you attempt to pick up your shirt when jeongguk clicks his tongue and wiggles his index finger in the air, “nu-uh, the game’s still going on, you put on any of the clothes you’re not supposed to have on, and you’re out.”

“that’s a dumb rule and i’m cold.” you roll your eyes and slip on your shirt anyway.

your nipples appear more protruded underneath that thin layer of material but it’s better than having to cover them with your arm.

jeongguk groans but doesn’t say anythng else as taehyung picks up the bottle and spins it.

in the end, you have a pair and a trio.

since taehyung is right next to you, crash your onto with his. it takes him a moment to register that the seven minutes start now before he swipes his tongue over your lower lip and you let him in, tasting the bitter beer in his mouth while he suckles on your tongue.

you expect taehyung to play along for the first few minutes and let jeongguk and you have a go at it. but the proactive advancements aren’t unwelcomed.

“hey! come on!” jeongguk whines somewhere in a distance –he’s sat across from you.

it doesn’t take long to make his way over and starts kissing your shoulder, sitting on the vacant end of the log. it’s the hand that snakes under your shirt and gropes your breast that makes you moan into taehyung’s mouth.

jeongguk pinches your nipple almost painfully, as if getting payback for starting without him.

when you don’t budge and wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck, he stops his assault on your sensitive buds and slips his hand under your panties. you gasp, body frozen from the unannounced intrusion and he takes that chance to turn your face to him, capturing your lips.

taehyung sighs softly, as if foreseeing that jeongguk would sweep you away from him. and you thought it the end of that.

but instead, you feel more slander fingers than jeongguk’s on your other breast that jeongguk didn’t touch. they’re gentle and handle you like you’re a delicate porcelain doll.

and like you said, taehyung’s touches aren’t unwelcomed.

that, paired with jeongguk’s careless fingers on your clit, easily makes you moan out in pleasure as sparks course through your veins, stars behind your eyes, your arm around jeongguk’s neck and your mouth tore away from his.

jeongguk lets out a low whistle as caresses your sensitive clit in a circular motion and stops when your hand grasps his wrist, telling him you need a break.

“wait, out here? dude, you can’t be serious,” taehyung lowly cautions as jeongguk shifts behind.

you barely get to focus your eyes after coming down from your high, noticing the two men making out behind taehyung where you last saw them. yoongi’s hand is in jimin’s pants.

“baby, can i put it in?” jeongguk’s voice is uncharacteristically silken and sweet.

it doesn’t take a genius why.

you throw a glance over your shoulder to see him pumping himself, his tip glistening with pre-cum.

“no, i want tae’s.” you say vindictively.

“what – “ the aforementioned man’s eyes widen, skin appearing olive gold next to the fire.

“may i, tae tae?” you smile, fluttering your lashes and smiling coquettishly as you caress him through his pants. just like jimin, he only lost his shirt in the earlier game.

his adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your offer but spreads his legs open as though welcoming your touch.

“i...” he says thickly, “i don’t have a condom on me...”

“it’s fine, i’m on birth control,” you shrug, lips still curled into a suave, inviting smile.

then his head shakes in the smallest nod.

“yeah?” you ask, head tilted ever so slightly to the side in an innocent gesture.

“yeah,” he echoes your words, eyes screwing shut, “please.”

it takes you close to no difficulty to take him out. you ravel in his size –he’s possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. taking him in your mouth, you let jeongguk pull you panties to the side and slip his tip past your entrance. he groans, appreciating your warmth while you coat taehyung’s length with your saliva.

once you’re sure taehyung’s all ready to take you, you lift yourself up, earning a whine from jeongguk whose closed eyes shoot open as if he just woke up from a delightful dream and crashed into reality. you lower yourself onto taehyung, humming in appreciation like jeongguk did as the taller man stretches you out to fit his size.

once you’re sat on his lap and taking him to the hilt, only then do you pay attention to jeongguk who’s directing your hand to wrap around his length.

you start to move your hips, appreciating each delicious graze of taehyung’s length stretching and molding you to fit his size while pumping jeongguk’s shaft and lowering your mouth to wrap around his tip.

“i’m close,” taehyung murmurs breathily, his hand ghosting over your hips as though barely fighting against his primal urges to grab your hips and move you to his desirred tempo.

“you can come inside,” you say, tearing your mouth away from jeongguk for the briefest moment to throw your head to meet taehyung’s hooded gaze.

“please, can i cum inside you too? after tae?” jeongguk asks, knowing full well that he’s walking on thin ice with you.

“no.” you deny curtly, making sure to shoot him a glare to emphasize your disapproval.

“fuck,” taehyung’s voice cuts through the night as he’s pushed to his limit. those large hands dig into your skin as he bounces your ass on his lap the way he wants it.

and you let him. moaning against jeongguk’s tip as your brain shortcircuits. you barely notice the way jeongguk’s thrusting his length down your throat –much deeper than you’d allow him, just because you’re not a fan of his arrogance but also can’t completely resist it.

once you and taehyung stop moving, jeongguk easily lifts you up from taehyung’s lap and place you down on his.

“jeongguk,” you say warning, not at all pleased that he handled you like a ragdoll but can’t help the way you tighten around him –he’s winning in girth compared to taehyung.

“don’t move –i promise i won’t come inside you, just please let me feel you around me,” jeongguk’s basically begging as he hugs you close to him –it’s probably to get you to stop any inch of movement but your stomach is fluttering and your cheeks are immeasurably hot.

you bite your lower lip from moaning.

while he’s holding you so tight, your clit is rubbing against him and you’ve got the fattest dick inside you.

there’s no way you can sit still.

you move your hip in a circular motion, the groan coming from jeongguk’s lips being music to your ears.

“fine,” you push the mated hair from his face when he pulls away from your shoulder and looks at you in the eye, they appear to be twinkling in the flicker of the flames, “you can come inside.”

the last thread of his sanity seems to snap. he lays you down on your back and because the log isn’t long enough for that, you end up having your head laid on taehyung’s thigh, his just-cummed dick still out in the open. every time jeongguk thrusts inside you, you end up brushing against it.

taehyung, having lost his reserves about sex in public, smiles down at you and places a hand underneath your head to support you while his friend is thrusting in and out of you like a mad man who’s never tasted a woman in his entire life.

eventually, taehyung, the moans and the squelching sounds disappear into a blurred mess. you don’t know where you start and where jeongguk ends.

when you come to, you’re staring at the starless night sky, breathing heaving into steady breaths as you feel satisfaction tingles in between your legs. a mixture of jeongguk and taehyung’s cums pour out of you and onto your stained panties.

and in the peaceful cackles of the bon fire and the sound of waves crashing, a shadow blocks your view.

“uh, ___,” jimin says hesitantly.

“hm?” you look up at the man with his length out –he’s probably the shortest compared to taehyung and jeongguk but his girth could give the latter a run for his money.

“we got turned on looking at you guys,” jimin stammers, cheeks flushed while yoongi stands next to him, stroking himself to the sight of your glistening and naked body.

“come here,” you giggle, pushing yourself up.

“let me,” taehyung whispers, sending shivers down your spine as he holds out his hand for you to use as a support.

you don’t realize how spent you are until you decide to stand up but almost go tumbling into the ground again a second later. you would’ve faceplanted into the sand if taehyung hadn’t caught you. he helps you to sit on his lap and holds both your legs up.

your panties are now discarded on the ground while sticky, white cum drips out of you freely and park jimin’s got a front row view of that.

you should be embarrassed but the last of your braincell’s got fucked out of you by jeongguk who’s now passed out on the sand, snoring away like he’s got no care in th world.

jimin’s face is beat red as he slips right inside you. it would’ve taken more teasing if you were to take him without jeongguk and taehyung’s jizz dripping out of you.

“you mind if i give you head instead?” you ask the elder man.

“not at all,” yoongi shrugs but that unbothered facade comes crumbling down like sand castle as soon as you wrap your lips around him, hand covering where your mouth can’t reach.

well, you can, but deepthroating’s jeongguk’s made you too tired to take another man deeper than you do now.

you sigh softly when jimin starts moving. he’s gentle with his strokes, as if making sure you’re gradually getting used to him. probably because he knows he’s thicker than the average men. and jimin being jimin, will probably make sure all his partners are comfortable (how ever comfortable you can be butt naked in the open and with sand sticking to your soles and exposed flesh.

but all that easily melts away as jimin hits that one spot that gets you throwing your head back on taehyung’s shoulder. even when he goes faster, he’s still attentive of your reactions and actions.

you’re not sure how he can read you when it’s covered in yoongi’s cum. he’s the fastest to cum out of all the four boys. somewhere in your mind, you thank the universe for giving you a fast and easy blow.

when yoongi steps away, you shift your focus to jimin, “i’m coming,” you murmur.

it takes a few strokes more for you come at the same time, jimin throwing his head back, barely moaning out. it’s as though his reservations still cling onto him and stops him from losing himself.

jimin pulls out with a sigh, legs barely able to stand so he tumbles back to one of those empty logs and zips himself up.

just when you’re about to pull your legs together, all of a sudden, conscious of how exposed and naked you are –taehyung’s hand stops you.

“taehyung...” you murmur, cheeks burning at the way you’re spread and bare with multiple men’s cum dripping down your ass.

but he doesn’t seem to mind as he slides his fingers down your stomach and slips two of them past your entrance, coating those slender digits with the cum inside you.

his motion starts picking up and until he’s thrusting his fingers inside you like he would his dick. you’re grasping his arm and biting your lips at the sudden yet different rush of pressure you’ve had up until now. with the pleasure jimin left you, it doesn’t take long for it to built up in the pit of your stomach and spreads through your body likes the waves against the shore.

the rest that follows is a blur. you remember foregoing your undergarments and slipping on your jeans and shirt before having taehyung sweep you off your feet and carry you to the car.

“t-tae! i can walk!” you try to protest but he simple chuckles.

“you can barely stand.”

you can only cast your eyes to his collarbones –anywhere besides his eyes as you recall the throbbing sensation between your legs.

jeongguk, having been kicked to wake by yoongi, scampers to stand up and follow the three of you. he falls a step behind and complains the whole way to the car, saying something about “can do that too”.

whatever that is.

when you reach your home, the lights in the living room are still on and you’re quite literally screwed.

“come on, i’ll help you to the porch,” jeongguk says ever so casually as he undes the safety belt.

yet something instinctual makes you hurl out words of rejection right there and there despite your brain telling you that you’ll barely make it three steps out of the door without crashing against the ground.

“no, i’m good.” you huff, swigging the car door open yet you hear another car door open and the sound of feet hurriedly shuffling over and in no time, jeongguk’s arm is around yours.

“i don’t need your help,” you hiss under your breath despite the relief that floods your system from jeongguk’s support.

“what are the chances of your parents letting you coming back past curfew slide because the face they saw walking you up to the porch is mine?” he makes a compelling argument.

before you can even refute, the front door swings open to your father’s glum expression. though his face lights up like christmas light as soon as he sees the man next to you.

“jeongguk! well, i’ll be damned,” your father beams, hands on his hips, “i didn’t know you two made up.”

“evening, mr. ___,” jeongguk nods in greeting, pretending not to hear the last part.

“thanks for walking me,” you say, strained.

gathering all that’s left of your might you take a step forward and out of his arm to stand next to your dad, waiting for him to leave.

“did someone say jeongguk?” your mother comes running from the couch, “oh, how’s your mother? is she well?”

“yeah. too well, actually. she’s been into yoga lately, keeps saying she’ll be able to beat me in arm wrestling,” jeongguk chuckles, scuffing his sole against the ground, hands buried inside his pocket.

“yeah, it’s getting late, don’t you think?” you cut in.

your parents seem to take the hint, your mother wishing him a one last, “tell minhee i said hi, yeah, son?”

“will do,” he smiles, eyes travelling to yours only to have him drop his gaze. “have a good evening mr. ___, mrs. ___.”

then he’s walking back to the car where you can see taehyung waving his hand from the passenger seat. only then, does an actual smile curve on your lips as you wave back, pretending not to notice the slouch in jeongguk’s figure.

that’s the last you talk to jeongguk privately. sometimes, when you’re texting in the group chat, you can’t help but reply to his dumb memes. yoongi and you exchange music in private message while you and jimin are ‘best friends’ on snapchat and you occasionally reply to taehyung’s insta story.

no one spoke of that night.

it’s as if it never happened.

the girls asked about it but you simply brush it off, “oh we had some drinks and decide to go home because it wasn’t fun with half of the squad not around.”

they don’t believe it.

but they don’t push it either.

but they probably thought you made a mistake and that mistake having something to do with your summer fling slash childhood friend, jeon jeongguk.

part of it was true.

except you fucked half of the boys in your group of friends.

it’s a month later, did you get a text from jeongguk on one ordinary friday night, after coming home from work. after going back to seoul.

jk: hey

jk: me and taehyung are going out for a drink

jk: since we live ten minutes away do you wanna come?

#taehyung smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #bts smut #taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #yoongi scenarios #jimin scenarios #bts fics #jungkook fics #yoongi fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfics #taehyung fanfics #jimin fics #taehyung fics

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qianinterprises · 4 years ago

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Hold Me Together, Break Me Apart

Pairing | Haechan x gn!Reader

Genre | fluff, angst, roommate au, college au

Warning(s) | bad language, cursing, slamming doors, broken door knobs, broken hearts, reader is mean to Jeno (for a kinda reason)

Synopsis | Your roommate is never far from your mind, especially when you need him to hold you together as you break from the stress of college life. But what happens when you break him by accident.

Author’s Notes | Thank you sweet anon for your request! I had so much fun writing this! I really hope you like it! I may also be posting a part 2, I haven't decided yet. What do you guys think?

Work Count | 2.9K

Tagging | @treasurehobi

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Exhaustion swept across your shoulders as you shoved your key in the tattered lock of your apartment door, wincing when the gears crunched as you turned the key. When the lock clicked, you moved the key back to its resting place before pulling back on it, attempting to free it from the snug hug of the gears. However, it seemed far too content buried deep in the edges of the lock.

With a groan, you turned the jiggly handle and pushed the door open, immediately being bombarded by the sounds of four yelling boys sitting on your couch with remote controls in hand. You had forgotten your roommate was inviting his friends over.

“Donghyuck,” you called, closing the door and walking deeper into the apartment.

You kicked your shoes off at the door and slung your bag into a chair.

Your roommate didn’t answer for a long moment, but when he did, he was distracted, not even sparing you a glance.

“Yeah?”

“My key got stuck again.”

Three times your key had managed to get stuck in the lock. All three times, Donghyuck had been the one to free it.

The male in question sighed as his fingers sped over the keys of the metallic control in his hand.

“I’ll get it out in a minute,” he said.

With a nod, you made your way to your room, seeking escape from the loud yelling of the boys in the next room.

As soon as the door was shut, you let yourself succumb to the emotions attempting to swallow you up. Your knees hit the floor, face buried in your hands as tears wet your fingers. Your shoulders shook slightly as silent sobs wracked through your body.

University was hard enough without the added stress of working, gnawing at your body and soul, pulling you apart piece by piece until your tender bits were exposed for the world to abuse.

College was meant to be fun. A time for parties and drinking. A time of self discovery while also learning more about whatever subject interested you the most. These days, your life was limited to taking four classes throughout the morning, taking an hour for lunch, before reporting to the restaurant across the street where you worked as a wait staff, taking orders and receiving too few tips to add onto your already poor paycheck.

The restaurant had been the only job hiring at the time, and you desperately needed the money. Your family had been supporting you, but when your younger brother dropped out of high school, they began spending too much money taking care of the son they’d ruined by spoiling. Your father could no longer afford paying your half of the apartment rent and, while Donghyuck hadn’t outright said anything of his displeasure, covering both halves of rent for two months, you knew the boy also didn’t make enough to pay the full cost and still be able to go out with his friends. You couldn’t do that to him. So you’d taken the first job that landed in your lap, and here you were, crying on your bedroom floor at 11pm, pondering the idea of dropping out of college all together and moving back home.

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts.

“(Y/N), can I come in?”

You quickly ran your fingers under your eyes, wiping away the dampness the tears had left, hoping your eyes were puffy enough to be noticeable. You pulled yourself up off the floor and grabbed your door handle, twisting it and opening the door.

“Yes?”

“I have your key- hey what’s wrong?”

He presented your key between his thumb and index finger, but as soon as his eyes caught sight of your face, he paused.

You felt tears prick to your eyes, but you fought to hold them back. You hated when people asked you questions like that when you were upset. It made holding back the dam of tears that much more difficult.

“Nothing.”

That should have been the end of it, but your voice cracked, and Donghyuck was stepping into your room, wrapping his arms around your middle, and pulling you against his chest. As your face connected with the soft material covering his shoulders, you felt the dam finally give way, a loud sob leaving your mouth as your own ars wound around him, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you bellowed against him.

His arms tightened around you, almost as though he were a bungee strap wrapped tightly around a crumbling box, there to hold it together.

“I’m so tired!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking hard. “I have three papers due by tomorrow night that I haven’t even started because I’ve had to work and when I get home I’m exhausted and I keep pushing it off and now I’m going to fail three classes and-”

You were cut off by his soothing voice, shushing you softly as his hand stroked your back the way he knew you liked.

“It’s going to be ok baby,” he whispered softly.

Your roommate somehow had a weird effect on you. Just by speaking in a certain tone, he could rile you up, make you sleepy, or completely put all your fears and nerves to rest. As you melted against him, allowing him to take the majority of your weight, you didn’t stop to ponder the nickname.

“What classes are your papers due in?” he asked.

His arms around your waist loosened, but neither of you let go.

“Literature with Dr. Wong, Grammar with Dr. Jeon, and History with Dr. Lee.”

“Come with me.”

With that, he pulled away from your hug, leaving you about to whine when he grabbed your hand and pulled you from the room.

“Does anyone have Dr. Lee, Dr. Jeon, or Dr. Wong?” he asked.

“I’ve got Wong,” the tallest of Donghyuck’s friends, you believed his name was Jeno, said.

“Have you finished your paper for his class?”

Jeno nodded.

“Will you come over tomorrow and help (Y/N) write hers?” Donghyuck asked.

“Sure!” Jeno said, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I have Dr. Jeon, but I’m not finished with my paper yet. I asked for an extension though and she gave me until Monday. Maybe ask for one too and then we can work on them together,” Donghyuck’s friend with dyed blue hair offered.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, nodding.

“Thank you Jaemin,” Donghyuck beamed.

“I have Dr. Lee, but you know he doesn’t read our papers right? As long as you have the buzz words he’s looking for, he’ll give you a good grade. I can email you my paper and you can just rewrite a few sentences so it isn’t total plagiarism,” the other, tiny friend answered.

Renjun actually happened to be in your class with Dr. Lee. You didn’t know why you hadn’t realized before.

“Now see! All you have to do is ask for help when you need it,” Donghyuck said, squeezing your hand softly before letting it go.

“Now, I have to get back to beating these losers’ asses, but there’s pizza in the fridge if you're hungry!”

Donghyuck leapt onto the couch, settling himself between Jeno and Renjun, retrieving his controller. Then they all were gone once again, back in their own world of screaming obscenities at one another as they fought whatever the zombie alien things on the screen were.

With a smile, you felt your body relaxed, muscles now not as tense as you as you made your way into the kitchen to retrieve the pizza he had mentioned.

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When the next morning rolled around, you were hauling yourself out of bed to attend your morning classes, but today, you didn’t feel horrible, like you wanted to crawl back under the blankets and sleep your life away. Perhaps it was the fact that you had the day off. Or maybe it was because your roommate had somehow taken all your worries and frustrations and made them easier to handle.

Like he always did.

Donghyuck was nothing if not reliable. He was always there when you needed him, whether it was getting your key out of an old lock or gluing you back together as you fell apart in his arms. He was always there to ground you. Maybe he could be annoying sometimes, especially when it was three in the morning and he was crawling in bed with you after having a nightmare, or when he’d beg you to make him hot chocolate every day in the winter because he always scorched the milk when he tried. Lee Donghyuck was the perfect person to share your home with. You just wished you could share the rest of your life with him too.

As your last class ended, you pulled your phone from your bookbag to find a notification to join a group chat from Donghyuck. Raising your eyebrow, you accepted, seconds later directed to a chatroom full of memes and video game references.

FullSun00: Finally she’s joined!

JenoJams: Cut her some slack, she’s been in class!

Jaemberry: She should just text in class like we do!

You: Texting in class prohibits learning!

ArtJun: I like this girl!

FullSun00: (Y/N)!! Meet us in the cafeteria!! We’re sitting in one of the back booths!!

You: Uh… Ok? I’ll be there in five.

Donghyuck was always adamant about keeping you away from his friends group chats despite the amount of times Jeno and Jaemin had tried to convince him to add you. Being invited now was a little odd, but odd didn’t fight the smile on your face as you shoved your notebooks into your bookbag and took off for the cafeteria.

When you got there, the cafeteria was full, as it usually was, but you managed to wind yourself around the heaps of students waiting in lines or moving toward their tables. You walked toward the back of the cafeteria where the most popular seats were, cushioned booths that were alway crowded.You scanned the area looking for Donghyuck, but in the end, it was Jaemin’s blueberry hair that led you to them.

“How did you guys manage to get a booth?” you asked, taking off your backpack.

The booths had long seats large enough to fit three or four people on either side, tables stretching long enough to encompass everyone's plates with plenty of room to spare. It’s part of what made them so popular.

Jeno took your backpack from you, passing it across the table to Jaemin who slid it under the booth where it joined the pile pressed against the wall.

“We got here an hour ago. We tend to spend a few hours here. Easier to eat our fill that way,” Jaemin said.

Renjun snorted.

“Jeno and Jaemin are like human vacuum cleaners. It takes many servings before they’re satisfied,” he laughed.

You shook your head, eyes scanning over the table before realizing that someone was missing.

“Where’s Donghyuck?”

“Miss me already?” your roommate's annoying voice spoke from behind you.

You whirled around to find the man in question standing there juggling two cups of soda and two plates filled with food from the pasta bar, which happened to be the most popular bar and incidentally, your favorite.

“I figured you’d be hungry and I know you love your pasta,” he said.

He moved around you, placing both plates and drinks on opposite sides of the tables before sliding in next to Jeno. It was only then that you realized the second plate was for you.

“Donghyuck… you didn’t have to-”

“Hush and sit,” the male said, looking down at his plate.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought the man was blushing. But this was Donghyuck you were talking about, and Donghyuck didn’t get embarrassed or blush.

You sat yourself down by Renjun and lifted your soda to your lips. As soon as it hit your taste buds, you sighed happily. Donghyuck knew you so well. He knew exactly what you’d want to eat and drink. He was perfect. He’d make the perfect boyfriend…

“Hey (Y/N), after lunch, you want to head back to your place to work on that paper? I’m done for the day,” Jeno asked.

You swallowed the noodles you’d just shoveled into your mouth.

“Sure! I’m done too! And the apartment will be quiet because Hyuck has class!” you shot a teasing smirk in Donghyuck’s direction, earning yourself a glare.

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

Lunch seemed to fly by and before you knew it, Jaemin was handing you your bookbag as you all grabbed up your plates, ready to relinquish your booth to someone else.

You bid goodbye to Jaemin, Renjun, and Donghyuck, all who were heading to various classes while you and Jeno made your way across the street to your apartment complex.

Stepping inside, your key thankfully didn’t get stuck this time. You tossed your bookbag onto the couch before flopping beside it. You grabbed your laptop off the side table. Jeno took a seat beside you, opening his own laptop.

As soon as the screen to your laptop turned on, you let out a loud yelp as one of your many images of you and Donghyuck together met your eyes, Donghyuck’s sun-kissed face grinning at you through the screen. You typed your password in hastily, but it was too late. Jeno’s face blossomed into a teasing, shit-eating grin that you wanted to slap away.

“So… Donghyuck huh?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about!”

Embarrassment made your stomach churn.

“How long?”

There was no hiding it. Jeno had seen your computer screen. While most university girls had images of baby animals or their favorite band as their lock screens, you had your favorite person to stare back at you.

“Since I moved in…” you mumbled.

His eyes widened.

“And you haven’t told him yet?!” he gaped.

“I haven’t told anyone.”

“You told me!!”

“No, you found out, there’s a big difference,” you corrected.

“Well are you going to tell him?” Jeno asked.

“Of course not! Why would I tell my roommate that I’ve got a big fat crush on him?!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe because he could like you too?”

“Psh, yeah right. Come on, let’s get to work.”

“(Y/N)-”

“No Jeno. I may practically be in love with the man, but why would he ever like me?! He is everything and I’m nothing. He’s the full package with so much to offer some lucky person who steals his heart. I have nothing to offer him but stress and insecurities. So can we please just get to work on this paper and forget about him?!”

You didn’t realize you had tears rolling down your cheeks until Jeno brought his hand up to cup your face, gently running his thumb under your eyes to wipe away the tears softly.

“You’re not nothing. You’re everything,” he whispered.

There was something in his voice. Something that had you drawing closer to him. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Your head buzzed with want, blissfully unaware to the emotions of your heart as Jeno’s lips met yours.

His lips were rough, chapped. They pricked yours almost uncomfortably, but they were warm and moist. It had been so long since you’d had such a moment with anyone. So long since you’d last been kissed that perhaps your judgment was impaired as your lips moved against his.

But all too soon, reality was coming to slap you in the ass. This time, in the form of the apartment door opening and Donghyuck stepping through, a gasp leaving his lips as he caught his best friend and the girl he’d fallen in love with locking lips on his couch.

Your lips quickly separated from Jeno’s at the sound of someone intruding. Your eyes became as wide as saucers when you noticed Donghyuck standing in the threshold of your home.

You shot up from the couch, nearly knocking your computer to the floor.

“Hyuck! I can explain! We-”

“Don’t bother.” His tone was so icy it tore right through your heart.

He slammed the door and stormed off to his room. You jumped as his bedroom door slammed shut with a hard wham that made the walls rattle.

“I-... I…”

More tears pooled in your eyes as your hands began to shake.

“No…” you whispered.

Jeno stood up from the couch and made a move to wrap his arms around you, to comfort you, but you lurched away from him.

“No!” you screamed! “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Your breathing was heavy. Anger ripped through your veins. You knew it wasn’t entirely Jeno’s fault, and it wasn’t fair of you to scream at him like it were, but you couldn’t help it. Standing in the wake of a big mistake, you had no other option but to be angry, because how would your roommate ever like you now if he thought you were dating his best friend.

“(Y/N) please-” Jeno began, but you cut him off.

“Was this your plan?! Get me to fall apart so you could put me back together when he walked in?! Do you realize how fucking messed up that is?! I confided in you! I told you how I felt! And you kiss me?! Then he walks in and you try to hug me?! I don’t like you Jeno! Not like I love him! You are not, nor will you ever be, Lee Donghyuck! So just get out!”

You weren’t typically a rude or mean person, but as Jeno looked down before packing up his laptop and scurrying from the room like a puppy with his tail between his legs, you couldn’t help feeling like you’d just lost two great friends.

Maybe today wasn’t a good day after all.

#nct one shot #haechan x reader #ficscafe #lsn.works #nct haechan #haechan x you #haechan x y/n #gender neutral reader #stress #roommate au #college au #broken hearts #nct dream #slight jeno x reader #swearing #hurtful words

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ravenpureforever · 4 years ago

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Ok I can not tell you how terrified I was to watch this week’s episode but here we are-

First of all we started with baby Adam which while I do hate Adam with every fiber of my being, I am interested in his baby pre-creepy dude version and I enjoyed seeing from Tadashi’s perspective even if I could live happily without anymore examples on the cycle of abuse.

Then everyone watching in amazement that Reki is back to normal again & happy filled me with such glee, like yes our boy is back and thank lord for it. Him meeting Langa & doing their special new fist bump was just beautiful start to a beautiful episode.

I was just so happy to return to our regularly schedule boys who adore each other having a good time that I forgot for a moment that Adam exists.

Love that Reki identifies Tadashi as man from love hotel, disappointed that Langa, our Canadian boy, does not know what a love hotel was & there was no mention of Reki getting hit by a car. I need that fic where everyone learns and it’s dramatic and cathartic for that entire scene.

Cherry & Shadow vibing in wheelchairs together in the hospital was amazing. Joe & Miya hanging out together was also amazing. Also where is my scene of Reki getting back together with all of them. Where is it. Miya being a little tsundere about caring for Reki was great and Joe as pleased older sibling/dad was wonderful as well.

Also can we just take a moment to appreciate how clever Reki is? Like my boy’s got so much brainpower and so knowledgeable about the technical part of skating and I need more awareness of my son’s smarts. (Also not me making parallel’s between Cherry’s creation of Carla & Reki’s creation of boards-)

Now the pre-beef: Miya being the baby tsundere for his friendship with Reki is once again adorable. Everyone being worried for Reki? So cathartic for me, my boy deserves all the love. The matchablossom where Cherry has Joe push him around in the wheelchair? 10/10 highly recommend, I love my bickering married couple and we need more screen time of them again. Langa’s absolute faith in Reki? My heart can’t take this love-

The beef itself? One of the most terrifying things I’ve ever watched and was absolutely, utterly amazing. Like Reki didn’t back down at all, he just kept going at it and it worked. Like Adam thought this was going to be boring & easy and sike bitch no. Reki wondering what Langa would do & deciding to do what was fun and succeeding that amazing jump? Perfection! Reki taking Adam’s hits and putting all his ambition in to it? My heart hurts but it was so impressive! Reki’s intellect coming into play and that’s how he got the upper hand on Adam? Best thing I’ve seen all night, I think it might be the best part of the episode!!! Adam getting left behind in the mud? Get recked loser, so cathartic, now all I need is you in jail! I was absolutely terrified that Adam was going to imprint on Reki next but him going in the opposite direction was certainly....interesting...

Anyway, Reki getting the attention & acknowledgment he deserves? 1000000/10, can not get enough! Reki almost beating Adam and losing by like an inch? Pretty incredible, I’m so proud of my boy! Everyone praising Reki and being so happy for him? This is what I am here for!!! Langa going into full on protective mode when Adam tries to come near Reki? Glorious and my Renga loving heart was squealing.

Once again, Tadashi, none of this is your fault. The answer here is putting Adam in jail & getting him therapy. (Not me going o.O at Tadashi finding parallels between Reki and Adam)

I’m completely petrified for episode 12 with the way everything ended but other than that, this was such a cathartic episode even if it’s missing a couple scenes, and I fully enjoyed it.

#sk8 #sk8 infinity #sk8 episode 11 #sk8 renga #sk8 reki #sk8 langa #sk8 joe #sk8 cherry blossom #sk8 cherry x joe #matchablossom #sk8 miya #sk8 shadow #sk8 tadashi #sk8 adam #reki #langa #renga #god this show will kill me #I love it though

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19tozier · 4 years ago

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wish you were sober (richie tozier)

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of sex, angst, pining, reader is an unreliable narrator at best

inspired by the song wish you were sober by conan gray

[losers + reader are 16+]

if someone were to ask you when you fell in love with richie, you don’t think you’d be able to answer them.

was it when you met him, thirteen and wild and so magnetic you couldn’t stay away from him? was it when you followed him into a sewer, endlessly terrified but trying to be as brave as he made you think you could be? was it when you looked at him and realized he had grown up right in front of you, and you hadn’t realized? or was it all the little moments in between, the mundane and the electric all in one?

you have no clue. all you know is this: you’re in love with richie tozier, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.

you bring your cup to your mouth, the edge of it pressing into your bottom lip. you don’t take a drink from it; you’re already a little buzzed, and you’re reluctant to get any drunker. you don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.

across the room from you, somehow perfectly visible despite the mass of dancing bodies separating you from him, richie leans against the wall, his arm around the waist of his girlfriend, who isn’t you.

you exhale as slowly as you can. inside of your chest, your heart feels like it is poised to shatter.

it shouldn’t shock you anymore. richie has a new girlfriend seemingly every month, a revolving-door of pretty girls that giggle when he kisses them and wear his jean jacket around school but ultimately never stay long. richie never offers explanation as to why they break up and you never ask. you’re afraid of whatever it is he might say. you’re afraid of knowing you’re not good enough for him if all of them weren’t.

you sigh. you’re such a fucking cliche. falling in love with your best friend, silently pining away as if it’ll make him notice you? you’d gag at the thought if it wasn’t your life.

a shoulder brushing against yours distracts you from your thoughts, and you glance over to see stan’s expectant face. he raises an eyebrow at you. “you alright?”

you want to scream. no, you’re not alright. you don’t think you’ve been alright since before you were officially a loser. but you can’t say that to stan, not without being perfectly honest, so you arrange your features into something resembling a smile. “what’s up, buttercup?”

stan scoffs. “you’ve been spending too much time with richie.”

will it ever stop hurting, the constant reminder of how close you are with richie but never close enough? “or he’s been spending too much time with me,” you say, sniffing arrogantly. the facade you put on sometimes is easier than breathing.

stan rolls his eyes. “sure, that’s it.” he pauses, squinting at you. “are you sure you’re okay? you look… upset, i guess.”

you snort, taking a sip of your drink as an excuse not to respond right away. your heart is in your throat at the idea of being caught. “you guess? gee, thanks stan.”

he narrows his eyes at you, his nostrils flaring slightly. behind him, bill is jumping onto mike’s back, laughing loudly. “shut up, you know what i meant. are you alright? seriously.”

you don’t give yourself time to hesitate. stan has a sixth sense for when he’s being lied to and won’t stop pestering you until you tell him the truth, and you’d like to not confess to him tonight. “yeah, stan,” you grin, feeling the lie like sawdust in your mouth. “i’m all good.”

he gives you a skeptical look, searching your face, but eventually he just sighs and nods. “alright, fine. if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

you nod back, glad you managed to escape that. “thanks, dude. hey, i’m gonna go grab a different drink, i’ll be right back.”

you don’t wait for him to say anything, or for anyone else to come with you. you just slip away, using the hordes of drunk teenagers to your advantage until you manage to get to the kitchen.

your shoulders slump, the smile you’d painted onto your face slipping away. slowly, you pour the rest of your shitty beer down the sink, opening the fridge and rifling around until you find a soda, stealing it before you can talk yourself out of it. whoever’s house this is won’t care, and besides, you think you need it.

when you leave the kitchen, your eyes fall to the spot where richie had been leaning. the wall is empty now.

pathetically, your eyes fill with tears. of course you know richie has a lot of sex, considering the self-satisfied smirk he’ll wear after getting fucked combined with the rumors that follow him like the perfume of whatever girl he’s seeing. the worst part is they aren’t even bad rumors; you’d lost count of the amount of times you had heard of how good a lover he is, or how his dick is as big as he’s often bragging, or how he does this thing with his mouth that feels like absolute heaven—

you’d heard enough. too much, probably. and it burrowed into your brain like the most insidious of weeds, sprouting thoughts you never should have let take root.

but of course richie was off fucking his girl. she was gorgeous, after all, easily one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen, all smooth tanned skin and long blonde hair and hourglass figure. the kind of girl that richie deserved to have on his arm. the kind of girl that you would never be.

you knew this would happen. still, the pain of it takes your breath away.

you manage to stumble your way back over to the losers, greeting them with a smile that feels entirely too wooden. you play the part, laughing with bev and leaning into ben’s shoulder and gossiping quietly with eddie. you stick to your script, even when richie stumbles down the stairs sometime later with the girl tucked under his arm, both of their clothes in disarray and richie’s curls a wild mess. you’re such a seasoned professional that you barely miss a beat with eddie, even when your eyes find the hickey sucked under richie’s jaw and stay there.

for the rest of the night, you do your best to stay away from richie, always at least one loser between you two. you doubt he notices, too wrapped up in his girl. you think her name is sandy. she’s so beautiful it hurts.

eventually, you think it’s probably late enough that you can leave without raising much of a fuss. all of the other losers are still there, but bev’s already dozing against ben’s shoulder and bill is fighting a losing battle with his own drooping eyelids. you can probably slip out now, you figure, before you fall apart.

you manage to say your goodbyes as quickly as possible, waving as you turn to leave. you drove here with the others in stan’s car but it’s not too far of a walk. besides, the cold might do you some good—

a hand wraps around your wrist, jerking you back against a broad chest. when you turn, you come face to face with one richie tozier.

god, years later and he’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. his jawline is sharp and square, his shoulders broad and sturdy, a whisper of the strength he will carry as a man but no less impressive now. gone are the days of the dorky kid you first met; he’d long ago traded in his hawaiian shirts for jean jackets and ripped jeans, silver rings glinting around his fingers and a chain hanging into the open collar of his t-shirt. again, you are reminded of the rumors that constantly follow him. you’re just angry they didn’t think he was hot from the very beginning.

“where are you going?” he asks, his words slurred. he’d been downing the shitty spiked punch earlier like it was his job.

you sigh, tilting your head back to look at him. there’s another hickey just to the left of his adam’s apple. “home,” you say, simply. “i’m tired.”

he frowns, stepping closer to you. the heat radiates off of him. “but i haven’t gotten to talk to you all night,” he whines, pouting ridiculously. “i missed you.”

it shouldn’t affect you. richie flirts like breathing, with anyone who will entertain him. it’s just how close you two are that means his flirting is usually aimed at you. “sorry, rich,” you say, and you find that you mean it. “next time, okay?”

his fingers release your wrist, only to catch on the curve of your waist and pull you close. the heat of his hand burns through the flimsy material of your top. you’re so focused on trying to stay upright just from that simple touch that you almost miss what he says next.

“can i come with you?” his voice is low, rough, more of a growl than anything else.

you blink, stupefied. usually you’re quicker than this, able to keep up a banter with him that’s rivaled only by him and eddie. now, you’re left tongue-tied, the endless wanting inside of you threading around your throat and choking you. “what?”

“can i come with you?” he repeats, looking down at you with his pretty eyes. his glasses slide down his nose. you fight the urge to push them back up. “we can take my truck. this party’s kind of a bore, honestly.”

you swallow, feeling your heart stutter. “what about sandy?” your mouth is so dry your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth.

richie shrugs, casual as all hell and infuriatingly attractive. “she can last without me for a bit. i’d rather hang out with my favorite girl.” he grins at you, his dimples curving into his cheek.

it makes you want to scream. he says things like this all the time, calls you doll and baby and love like he has the fucking right, constantly says you’re the most important person in his life. and yet, he doesn’t feel the same way for you as you do for him. and he never will.

still, you’re a sucker for him. your lips curl into a weak smile. “sure, rich,” you whisper; any louder and your voice will crack. “let’s get out of here.”

he doesn’t even stop to say goodbye to anyone else, just crowding against your back and walking behind you the entire way out the front door. he’s so close that his chest brushes against your shoulder blades, his fingertips grazing over your hip. you focus on not tripping.

once you’re outside, you hold your hand out, not looking at him. “keys,” you command.

he laughs, full and bright as he digs his keys out of his pocket. “yes, nurse ratched,” he teases, dropping them into your hand. “right away, nurse ratched.”

you scowl at him, turning away to stomp your way down the block to where richie parked. it’s not a long walk but the late autumn night is chilly, especially through the thin material of your top and your skirt. you shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself.

before you can really react, richie’s shrugging off his jacket, settling the heavy denim over your shoulders. he’s just wearing a plain black t-shirt underneath, the cotton clinging to his biceps and chest, and you can’t tear your eyes away, even when he murmurs, “should’ve said you were cold, doll.”

the jacket smells like him: the apple of his shampoo, the warmth of his deodorant, the smoke from his cigarettes. it shouldn’t be a pleasant scent but it is, because it means comfort. it means home. it means your best friend and the love of your life.

your shoulders slump, your hand trembling when you finally reach his truck and reach for the driver’s side handle. “thanks, richie,” you breathe, climbing into the car before he can answer.

you don’t really know what he had in mind when he asked to leave with you, but you’re too overwhelmed to handle being alone with him for too long. already, having him this close is fogging your brain. you need to get away from him so you can fall apart in peace.

you decide to just take him home and walk from there. it proves to be the best choice, because not even a minute into your drive his chin is dropping down to his chest, his eyelids closing in longer and longer blinks until finally, he’s dozing in the front seat, big body curled in your direction. it fills you with so much warmth you think you are burning from the inside out.

it should be ridiculous, how much you love him. you should be at your limit for how much you have to give, capped out a long time ago, but everyday you fall for him a little bit more. whenever he does something particularly sweet, or funny, or attractive, you feel a little more of yourself crumble away to lay at his feet. at this point, you’re more fracture than glass, crushed into a fine powder under richie’s foot.

by the time you pull into richie’s driveway, he’s snoring lightly, his glasses knocked askew on his face. part of you wants to let him sleep, but the bigger part of you knows you need to get him into the house. you already slack on your best friend duties by secretly being in love with him, you don’t need to leave him out in the cold too.

sighing, you turn the key and shut the car off, getting out and walking around to the passenger side. you shake his shoulder, gently at first, then rougher when he doesn’t respond. he grumbles, swatting at you. you can’t help but laugh, shaking him again.

“rich,” you croon, shaking him with both hands. he groans, scrunching his face up. you snicker. “c’mon asshole, you’re too heavy for me to carry.”

he pries one eye open, glaring at you. “or you’re too small to even try,” he taunts back, sticking his tongue out.

you roll your eyes, tugging him out of the car. he goes easily enough, stumbling a little bit leaning into your side as you lock the car behind you.

you weren’t kidding when you said he was heavy. he’s just so much bigger than you, tall and broad and undeniably masculine. you try your best to take some of his weight with an arm curved around his waist, but you don’t think you’re really doing anything.

the lights are all off inside, richie’s parents gone for the weekend at some conference for his dad’s work. it makes you feel better about how you two stumble around in the dark, knocking into the walls and tripping over the stairs. finally, without much incident, you make it into richie’s room, depositing him on his bed before he can fall and brain himself on his table. his desk light is on, throwing the room into shadow but just light enough for you to see his face.

his curls spread around him on his pillow, his eyes already closed. he’s on top of his covers but there’s not much you can do about that. the only thing you can do is untie his boots and pluck his glasses from his face, letting him get as comfortable as he can with his clothes still on.

you stop, looking down at him. he’s almost angelic in his sleep, peaceful and quiet for probably the only time in his life. he’s so gorgeous like this, vulnerable, unguarded. it makes you feel like a creep to be looking at this without his knowledge. or his approval.

biting your lip, you turn to the door, only stopping when you realize you still have his jacket. carefully, you shrug it off, going to lay it on his bed when his voice stops you.

“keep it.”

you look up to see his eyes half-open, locked on you. the lamp throws his face into sharp angles and shadow, but the expression on his face is soft. his fingers stretch towards you.

“it looks good on you,” he continues, his voice barely more than a whisper. “you should wear it all the time.”

you don’t know what to say, frozen at the foot of his bed. it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, before you remember that he’s drunk and out of his mind. he probably thinks you’re sandy. there’s no way he’d ever say that to you.

but he keeps going, his voice rough, smooth velvet over steel. “you look good all the time. makes me feel insane. just wanna touch you but i can’t.”

your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. through trembling lips, you manage to get out, “what about sandy?”

he shrugs, a tiny movement that feels unsure. you’ve never seen him shy like this. the fact that sandy’s likely the reason makes you burn inside. “she’s cool and all, but she’s not you. you’re my best friend, (y/n). i love you.”

you gasp softly, nowhere near loud enough for him to hear. your heart feels like it’s being pulled in two. “i love you too, rich. more than you could ever understand.”

but he shakes his head firmly. “no, you don’t get it. i love you. you’re my—you’re my other half. my partner in crime. i’d be lost without you.” before you can respond, he sighs and whispers, “wish you were my girlfriend. not sandy.”

his eyes slip closed the next instant. as you stand there, simultaneously turned to stone and burning alive, he gives a soft snore, his features relaxing in sleep.

you stare down at him for what feels like centuries, suddenly too old to move. you look down at the jacket in your arms, then back up to him. a loose curl lays against his forehead. your fingers itch to push it behind his ear.

“i wish you were sober,” you whisper. he doesn’t twitch.

you leave the jacket laid at the foot of his bed when you go.

(part two)

#richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier fanfiction #the losers club #the losers club imagine #the losers club x reader #my writing

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stutterfly · 5 years ago

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Love Bytes 08 | Critical Updates | KNJ (M)

Last time on Love Bytes 07: You started seeing a guy that seemed great at first, but when he revealed his true colors, you found yourself heartbroken and feeling like the world’s biggest moron. If not for your friends’ intervention, you might feel twice as broken.

Your insecurities are now in the forefront of your mind but one man is determined not to let you dwell on them... Is this love?

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 15.4K

Series: Love Bytes (8/?)

Genre: Friends to lovers, IDIOTS to LOVERS, fluff, humor, slow burn, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, SMUT, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, IT/Nerd!Reader

CW: anxiety, sexual tension, angst, pining, sexual thoughts, language, grinding, Secondhand embarrassment, soft Namjoon feels, insecurities all around when things are the same but also very new, mutual masturbation, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, premature ejaculation, hickeys, accepting insecurities, let’s all just appreciate Namjoon’s hot bod ok, Namjoon said chill, Is This Love?

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7 masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

Do not repost. A/N: There’s at least one more chapter, if not two! I hope this is enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write. I pretty much worked my birthday weekend on it. Happy birthday from me to y’all for me since i thrive on pleasing others. <3

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“I’m so stupid,” you sob into his shirt.

Namjoon cups the back of your head, wishing he could remove every ounce of pain, every insecurity Jihoon’s words left behind. He may have walked away, but the damage he’s caused makes Namjoon’s blood boil. He wants to chase after him; he wants to hurt him the way he’s hurt you; he wants to physically unleash every ache that has been stewing all night in his heart. But he wants to be there for you more than anything else. If he has to choose, it will always be you.

“You’re not stupid. You just have a big, stupid heart...” He hugs you even tighter. “...and it’s my favorite thing about you.”

You don’t mind the way your ribcage is crushed in his embrace. It soothes the sting radiating from your body. Also you’re lowkey wishing that your ribs will break and puncture your lungs so you don’t have to think about everything that’s happened tonight.

It’s almost like the sky can sense the heaviness in your mind, epitomizing the weight of your emotions by slowly turning the light rain at your back into a downpour that quickly soaks your shirt. As you pry your face away from the comfort of his chest, rain splatters across your face, mixing with the tears that have already ruined your painstaking application of makeup for the evening.

Jennie, Hoseok, and Taehyung exchange pitying smiles. Despite wanting to comfort you, they know this moment isn’t meant for them and they slowly head back towards the entrance to the building. Jungkook stands firm with his arms crossed, completely engrossed in the way Namjoon comforts you, the way you stare at him, the way you clearly love each other. It’s like watching his favorite television drama, only better because it’s reality. It’s two of his favorite people finally navigating their feelings after an emotionally charged night. Are you going to kiss in the rain?

“We should get you home,” Namjoon mumbles, keeping his palms on your shoulders.

Droplets trickle down his forehead, dripping from his eyelashes as he blinks. He tries to ignore the chill of the rain soaking through his shirt, but the longer you both stand here like morons, the colder it becomes.

“I don’t want to go home,” you whisper with a shake of your head, knowing full well you will lock the door, turn off your phone and just wallow in self pity until you’re forced to leave bed and go to work on Monday. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please.”

“You’re never alone.” A sad smile spreads across his face. “You have all of us.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

The sadness in his lips disappears and he laughs, running his hands down the slick sides of your arms until he runs his fingers along yours. Time seems to slow as you pout at him, heart racing in your chest as your wet fingers slip against each other. Your palms clamp together with a wet squelching sound.

“If you don’t want to go home, do you want to…” he starts slowly, as if he’s afraid of your answer.

You’ve come over before but you’ve never spent the night at his place. He’s the one who always crashes on your couch, not the other way around. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Just ask.

“...come over my place instead?”

You smile as you nod and give his hands a reassuring squeeze. Pressing your face into the crook of his neck, you shyly ask the question on your own mind. “Will you please hold me tonight, too?”

Hoseok turns around with a gasp, realizing Jungkook isn’t with them. He quickly runs back to grab him by the ear. “Jungkookie you’re going to ruin everything. Let’s go,” he hisses, dragging him back towards the club.

Even in the rain, he catches the puffy, reddened nature of Jungkook’s eyes before the younger man wipes at them. Combining that with the proud grin and the way he refuses to remove his gaze from the pair of you even as he’s being pulled away, Hoseok rolls his eyes. What a baby. Before he can tease him for being sensitive, Jennie is already chastising him.

“What the fuck, Jungkook? Give them some space.”

“Aww, I just wanted to watch a little longer,” Jungkook whines even as Taehyung is shaking his head at him. “I was hoping to see a little more action.”

“Don’t be a perv.” Jennie pinches his arm hard and he whimpers. But for the first time she notices the glossy texture in his eyes. "Are you crying?"

Jungkook scoffs, pushing past her. "What are you, crazy?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The drive had been quick. Thankfully, Namjoon doesn't live very far from that particular club. Between your emotional state of mind and the severity of the rain assaulting your windshield, you’re not sure you could have safely made a longer drive. You step into the elevator, Namjoon’s hands guiding you inside. His arms wrap around your torso, attempting to cut off the chill soaked into both of your clothes as the doors slowly close.

“You okay, Geeksquad?” His words sound distant, despite the fact that he’s close to your ear.

“Yeah… Yeah!” You try to sound chipper but all you manage is to showcase the fact that you’re not. You purse your lips together, knowing that was pathetic. Hugging your arms over his, you spare a glance at him. The incredulous expression on his face is killing you.

“Don’t let him get inside your head,” he says, armed with the knowledge of how much damage those toxic thoughts can do.

“He was right.” Your voice breaks the second you speak, even as you try to keep the tears in.

Namjoon shakes his head before dropping his chin to your shoulder. “No. He couldn’t be more wrong about you. You’re funny and kind and beautiful. That fool didn’t deserve to be breathing the same air as you.”

You let your chin drop to your chest, nuzzling your nose beneath his arm. “I’m boring. I work with computers because I like it. I like to watch movies and do nothing all day. I like video games and sitting on my butt playing through stories I could never dream of. I like to sit in parks and space out for hours staring at the sky. I know it doesn’t make for great conversation. How do I defend against that? He’s right. I am boring. I’m a loser.”

You pause to sniffle, finding that the words just won’t stop coming. “And that makes me desperate for anyone to see past the layers and love the person inside. Just like he said. I know I have more to offer and I want people to see it. It’s just so hard to show anyone why I matter, why I should be considered, when all I see when I look at myself is the same timid marching band geek I’ve been since high school.

“Bullied. Passed over. Cheated on, then dumped for someone prettier. Too nervous to say hi. Too shy to say how I really feel out loud. I mean, I have eight friends and most of them I only have because of you. Most people wouldn’t willingly get to know me without an ulterior motive and I was stupid to think otherwise. To top it all off, I’m barely a six. Barely average. I mean when you put it all together, it makes sense why nobody has ever loved me.”

Namjoon is quiet, pressing his cheek against yours and listening to the uneven breaths you take. “You deserve to see how amazing you are. All those things you think make you a loser, or unworthy of love, they’re ingrained in your DNA. They’re a part of you and you can’t cover it up, and you shouldn’t. These things are little pieces of you that are beautiful fractions of the person I know. You think no one has ever loved you, but you don’t know how other people think or feel. Sometimes we’re all too shy, too scared to say the things we really want to say.”

He licks his lips and breaks his hug, planting his hands on your shoulders and spinning you towards him. “I’ve seen you, everything you are. Every last wonderful fractal of your soul shines, even in the dark and I…” He blinks slowly, his heart caught in his throat. “...want to be the prism in your light. I want to capture the beauty of your soul and reflect it back at you. But I need to open your eyes so you can see the way I do.”

Your heart skips a beat as his palms warm the wet clothing at your shoulders. How can he take words and make them into such beautiful things? Trembling beneath his touch, you wipe the tears from beneath your eyes and bring a shaky palm to his cheek, thumb sliding between his nose and his cheekbone.

“You think too much of me,” you choke out with a laugh, cutting the tension in the space between you.

He shakes his head again, nuzzling into your touch with a laugh. This feels… right.

“Before I knew you, my heart was only filled with straight lines,” he mumbles.

Your brow furrows, but your stomach does a flip within the confines of your body. Did you hear him correctly? “Namjoon?”

“Your imperfections make you human, like me. I’m just a human,” he takes a deep breath, courage surging in his veins when he locks eyes with you. “You erode all my edges and make me into love.”

You forget how to breathe, legs threatening to buckle out from beneath you. The trembling in your hands has spread and it’s impossible to attribute it to the waterlogged clothes on your body. Your jaw quivers, unable to find the words to speak. You’re worried you’ll undo every beautiful phrase the man before you has uttered if you open your mouth now.

“We’re humans in that myriad of straight lines. My love,” he whispers in a low breathy tone, taking your hands and placing them over his chest. “Sit on top of it and it becomes a heart.”

You stand with your shaking hands stacked over his heart, too scared to move. His lips part as his brown eyes open wide, unsure what else needs to be said. Did he make it too complicated? He thought it was poetic. Maybe his final draft needs more work. He knots his eyebrows and tries again.

“You say that no one loves you, but then you don’t know how I feel. I love the things you don’t like about yourself. I love the things you do. I love the things you’ll never know or see. Your charm, your wit, your jokes, your laugh, your smile… All your layers. All your beauty. Physical, emotional, all of it. I love it. I love you.”

His tongue wets his lips despite how dry his mouth feels and he swallows, waiting for a response. Was it too blunt this time? Was it too simple? You’re still just staring at him with your mouth hanging open, unmoving. He really hopes that this moment passes quickly. If you’re really uncomfortable he will let you have his bed and he will sleep on his own couch, but he has to know one way or the other and the silence in the elevator is maddening.

The truth of it is that your mind needs to reboot and process. He’s so eloquent that you feel stuck trying to construct a response that feels adequate. It feels like someone pulled the power cord out before you were finished shutting down and fired your system back up with the press of a button. The fans are spinning but the motherboard still needs a minute. Slowly your hands move up towards his shoulders, trailing a path up his neck and come to rest on either side of his face with your thumbs curled underneath his jaw.

Namjoon tries to beat back the hope bubbling in his gut, worried something else is going to happen. Something will change. Something will interrupt. It always does. Or this isn’t what he thinks at all and you’re about to give him the softest, most heartbreaking letdown of his existence. He panics and freezes, waiting for the ache in his heart to amplify.

Words aren’t so good right now, but actions speak louder anyway, right? Gathering every last speck of courage you can, you close your eyes and lean forward to bring your lips to his. The sensation sparks fireworks in your brain, your stomach rumbling with a heat that makes your heart feel like it’s a hot air balloon taking off and your torso is floating away from your legs.

By the time Namjoon’s brain catches up to the realization that you’re kissing him, his hands are already at your back and in your hair, desperately pulling you closer to him to expand on what you’ve offered. He immediately dips his tongue inside your mouth, feeling you, tasting you, finally having you. You’re kissing him. You’re actually kissing him now. Is this a dream he’s about to awaken from?

His back hits the wall of the elevator when you fall towards him and you mumble an apology against his lips, but he simply grabs a fistful of your hair and clamps his mouth back down, sliding his tongue against yours. A throaty moan replaces the words of reassurance he means to say. He wants to commit the feeling of your lips to memory and he's well on his way when the doors slide open.

It would have been fine if you both didn't act like getting caught was the most embarrassing thing in the world, bouncing to opposite ends of the elevator like ping pong balls. The young woman entering purses her lips and shifts uncomfortably as she looks from you to Namjoon. She settles her gaze on the floor and presses the button for her destination, reminding you both that you haven’t left the ground floor.

You press your forehead into the wall and find an interesting spot to stare at. Namjoon awkwardly shuffles forward and finally presses the button with the "8" above it. You all wait in painful silence for the woman's stop.

Ding… Ding... Ding... Ding.

The doors open and the girl scurries out as quickly as possible. Namjoon clicks the close button multiple times, wishing the technology would respond faster to his touch. The doors close just as he looks over at you, quickly crossing the space and turning you by your shoulders to face him.

"Geeksquad."

Leaning against the wall, you shamefully drag your eyes to his, wincing as his thumb grazes the welt beneath your shirt.

"Shit, sorry," he whispers, carefully sliding his fingers down your arms until they rest at his sides.

Ding.

"No, no. It's fine. Just… Please." Shaky fingers reach for the back of his neck, coaxing him to move back towards you.

Ding.

He places his palms on the wall beside your head, leaning into your touch with a heavy exhale.

"Please, what?" The question escapes with a cracked whimper. You're driving him insane.

"Please don't stop touching me tonight." The words you've chosen are far more sinful than either of you anticipate.

But if you're honest?

Ding.

His reaction makes it worth it.

As the doors open you're panting against his ear, eyelids fluttering to catch the glint of metal reflecting the light from the hall. Namjoon is busy coating your neck and jaw in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, growling against your skin when you weakly claw at his shoulders to get his attention. He suppresses the urge to grind his throbbing cock against you and instead starts sucking bruises into your neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh. If he teases you enough, will you do the same to him?

As light as your head feels from the high of his tongue massaging the tension from your body, you tug at his hair. He's not going to move without some prompting but you really don't want to spend the night in the elevator.

"Door. Door. Door," you repeat with a breathless whine.

He grabs your hips, walking you towards the exit as the doors begin to slowly slide together. He sticks his hand out just in time to catch the sensor, parting the barrier before it can completely shut. Okay, Namjoon. Control yourself. Few more steps. Get into the apartment.

"Sorry. Got carried away," he says, giving the blossoming color on your neck a nervous glance.

You shake your head at him and offer a goofy grin. "Please get carried away more often, preferably somewhere less public."

He forces his hands away from their perch on your hips and instead twines your fingers in his as he leads you down the hall.

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You slip your arms through the oversized white t-shirt he’s given you, the fabric stopping just above your knees to act as a makeshift nightgown. There have been multiple times you’ve teased him for owning clothes that are easily four times his size, but for once you’re thankful for it. Your wet clothes hang over the sliding door to the shower and you use the damp, dark material to rub the remainder of makeup off your eyes. It’s dirty anyway.

Holding the sweatpants he’s provided, you purse your lips in contemplation and stare at the doorknob. Do you even bother putting them on? The shirt you’re wearing covers plenty. You debate taking your panties off because those are wet too, but for an entirely different reason.

Sparing a glance at your reflection, you quickly realize you can see the faint circles of your nipples poking out from beneath the shirt. The material is so worn down that it’s almost sheer, the once black band decal on the front now a faded gray. A blush warms your face as you wonder if this was a carefully selected garment for his own benefit.

Despite the anxiety in the back of your mind telling you that you’re completely unfuckable, Namjoon’s affirmations of love sit in the front row of your brain, replaying like a song you can’t get enough of. Your lips are still swollen from the hungry way he kissed you and you drag them over your teeth as you consider how fucking good it felt to finally give in to the devil on your shoulder.

You stare yourself down as two peaks form beneath the sheet of white over your chest. Just the t-shirt it is. You’ve never been more thankful to have preemptively shaved your legs for a date in your life.

As you pull the door open, your mind is replaying the hottest moment in your life: the way he had you pressed against the wall of the elevator. Reality smacks you in the face in the form of his massive chest. He bashfully apologizes, looking you up and down with a warm smile before swallowing hard and slipping past you.

The door closes behind him and without his gaze on you now, you’re left with increased feelings of anxiety. Clutching your elbows, you wander into his bedroom, hoping to silence the noise in your head by dramatically flopping into his bed.

As you wait for Namjoon, you get comfortable on the pillows, turning your body to one side as you watch rain assault the large window nearby. A shiver runs through you, reminding you how much of a chill is still left in you from the rain. You’re regretting not putting on the sweatpants now as the t-shirt rides up over your thighs, so you bury yourself beneath the plaid duvet, sliding your legs against the soft cotton sheets beneath and curling the material around your face.

The light in the room dims. The flash of blue and purple catches your eye, a tiny projector firing up across the room with a soft hum. You follow the light it casts to the soothing presence of slow-moving stars twinkling on the ceiling. The soft glow of orange LED candles on the nightstand beside the bed contrasts the calming sight above you in a way that makes you feel warm and safe, even though nothing has changed in terms of temperature or security.

You smile in disbelief at the breathtaking galaxy as Namjoon shuffles under the covers beside you, never taking his eyes off you.

“Beautiful,” you whisper, mouth hanging agape as you watch stars twinkle in and out of existence.

You reach up as if to touch the sparkles above, knowing that the action is as useless as reaching for the stars outside; it’s an optical show of light refracting against glass, but it’s still so fucking pretty that you allow yourself to pretend for just a moment that you can feel a galaxy at your fingertips.

“Yeah?” he asks with a laugh, looking at something far more perfect than the lights dancing across the ceiling.

He props his head up with a folded elbow, taking in the childlike wonder on your face with a grin of his own. He’s spent many nights falling asleep under this fabricated sky, but it’s never felt as magical as it does now with you beside him. How cheesy would it be to tell you that? Should he say it? Would you love it? He decides he doesn’t want to ruin the moment with his corniness.

“I used to camp a lot in my backyard when I was little. Fell asleep under the stars a lot.” He reaches for your hand, drumming his fingertips over your knuckles. “When I grew up I found it hard to sleep when I couldn’t see them.”

“Surprised you haven’t broken this projector,” you tease with a grin, curling his fingers over your hand.

“Yeah.” He laughs. “It’d be okay if I did though. I don’t need that universe to sleep anymore.”

“Really?” You look over at him, the orange glow of the candle framing his head like a halo.

He nods with a smile, going for all the cheese he missed earlier. “‘Cause I got youniverse.”

You cup your hand around his jaw and you shake your head even though you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. “You’re so fucking corny, oh my god. You’ve been spending too much time with Seokjin.”

“No, see it’s double funny because--”

“Joonie, I got it,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes with that big goofy grin splitting your mouth wider.

He feels the need to further explain, digging a hole to put the rock he’s about to die on. “Because it can be taken like you are the center of my youniverse. But also you’ll fix it probably and you can call it yours--”

Your lips press against his, muffling the sound of any further explanation, extinguishing the blazing trail of thoughts, turning them into hazy stacks of steam that threaten to pour out his ears. He prays if this is a dream that he doesn’t wake up. Knowing what your lips feel like when you’re kissing him, how soft they are, the motions your jaw makes, the way you taste, means he can’t go back to pretending like he doesn’t.

His eyes open in time to catch your satisfied expression as you place a palm over his chest and press him flat against the bed.

"How have I never noticed?" you ask, losing yourself in his handsome, dimpled smile.

"Hmm?" He folds one arm behind his head while trailing his fingers across your forearm. He's a little distracted by the way his favorite shirt slips away from your chest just enough to expose a bit of your collarbone.

"How much you feel like home," you respond, cupping his face with your hands.

He licks his lips, pretending to tuck hair behind your ear just so he can use the excuse to rest his palm on your cheek. "Must have been that firewall you're always talking about. What, did you decide it was time for it to come down?"

"Pfft. No. Firewall is in full effect," you say, resisting the urge to explain how whitelisting a program works and the comparison it draws to your love life. "Just… For everyone except you."

You reach over his body, leaning across him to grab your phone from the nightstand as you maintain eye contact. It takes the full remainder of his self control to keep his hands to himself as your tits squish against his chest. From the devilish glint in your eye and the teasing flick of your tongue over your lips as you brush your nose against his, he knows it's a purposeful action.

You navigate to Tinder as you rest your head beside his, angling the phone towards him so he can watch. You open the app and ignore the unread messages in favor of hitting the account settings.

"I'm an idiot for ever downloading this app," you mumble, pressing the link to delete your account. The prompt on screen asks if you're sure, citing loss of conversations, matches, profile data, literally everything as unrecoverable once you agree. You've never been more sure about anything in your life.

Just like that your profile is gone and after a few seconds, so is that awful app. You press the power button to turn the screen off and look over at him.

"You're everything I want." You begin brushing your fingers through his hair. "I was too stupid to figure that out on my own. I shouldn't have needed an app to realize that, but I guess sometimes I need a little help getting out of my own head.”

You reach over him again to put your phone back on the nightstand, this time hovering instead of pressing into him because suddenly you feel shy. You’re not just latching on to some random person. This has been brewing for some time now and it’s clear now that it can’t be anyone. You may be desperate to be loved but that stems from you loving and being afraid to admit it, to be loved in return by the object of your unsung affections. He’s already done the hard part. Can’t you just do one thing right and gather your courage for once in your life?

"I love you."

The words somehow feel natural and terrifying at the same time. Your body betrays the bravery in your tone by allowing your arms to quake as your palms sink into the mattress beside him. Even though he's the one that said it first, doubt creeps in your mind. What if he was just caught in the moment?

He doesn't allow your thoughts the time they need to splinter into a thousand more. Goosebumps break out over your body as his arms wrap around your back, slowly pulling you down into a chaste kiss.

"I knew I loved you a long time ago. I knew it when you bailed my ass out of trouble even though it broke your finances to the point you started biking to campus to keep from spending on gas. Yes, I knew, and yes, I still think you’re a fool for stretching yourself so thin... I knew it when you agreed to meet my friends and made them all fall in love with your soul the same way that I did. I knew it when I started binging movies with you and falling asleep on your couch, wishing I was holding you instead." His words are soft as he hugs you close to him, trying the soothe the tremors causing your body to involuntarily vibrate. "But I only accepted it recently, so I guess I'm twice the idiot you claim to be."

You laugh, rolling your forehead across his as you brush noses. "Is that so? I'll remember that the next time you bring up that IQ of yours."

He smiles, planting another innocent kiss on your lips before murmuring, "Wow. The disrespect is real."

You giggle, taking the opportunity to roll off him. "Sorry, should I be nicer to you now?"

"Don't you dare," he laughs, sitting up and tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. "Do you mind? I'm gonna overheat otherwise. Central air can only do so much."

You shake your head and the material slips over his head, exposing pectorals that are bigger than expected. Your mouth waters as you take in the sight of his dark golden skin and two rigid brown nipples in the low light. You're already scanning the moles between them, trying to form an invisible constellation that you might count yourself lucky enough to run your tongue across later.

You bite your lip as he balls the shirt up and launches it across the room because for the first time you're actually able to process how fit he is. The skin of his stomach is firm and smooth, lined with a fine trail of hair that disappears into his sweatpants. His arms are bigger than you remember them being and it spawns the memory of how good they feel wrapped around your back.

Suddenly you're grateful for the underwear you kept on because it's easier to hide the soaking nature of your folds when there's something to help absorb it. He settles in beside you, breathing a sigh of relief at the cool air touching his skin. You look towards the ceiling, trying to pretend you weren't just ogling his perfect body, but you're a second too late. He catches the longing expression and the subtle smack of your thighs clamping together.

"Geeksquad," he mockingly chides with a surprised laugh. You bury your face in the blankets as he grins, drawing you towards his obscenely hot chest.

It's not fair. How is he so hot so suddenly? You can't even think. Doesn't he know he can't just magically become hot the moment you admit to being in love with him? That's not how this is supposed to work.

"Oh, did I embarrass you?" he teases.

You pull the bedsheet up his chest, creating a layer between your cheek and the source of your shame before covering your head with the duvet.

"Rude," you mumble against the fabric.

He slowly uncovers your head and you glare at him even as he squeezes your body close to his. He presses his lips to your forehead and you melt into a puddle.

"You don't have to stop thirsting just because I called you out. It's cute and I'm not used to it. That's all."

"Oh no. I can't hear you. I am asleep," you say, despite your eyelashes fluttering as you inhale the calming musk he emanates.

He clicks his tongue. "I can feel you blinking."

"No."

He can't help but grin at the familiar scenario. "How are you gonna tell me no? I feel it."

"No," you whine again, this time turning your face into his chest to smile.

His fingers trail paths up and down your arm and you feel yourself already beginning to doze.

"Joonie?"

"Hmm." It sounds like he’s in the same boat.

"Thank you," you mumble.

His sleepy response is delayed. "For what?"

"Being my home."

He hums a sleepy note of affirmation and you hug him as tightly as you can muster, feeling his hand playing with your hair before allowing sleep to claim you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Muted light floods the room as heavy raindrops barrage the window. The sky is a dark grey so it's not like daybreak presents a horrible wakeup call. Still you glare daggers at the half-drawn navy curtains. It's not far. You reason that you can get up, close them, and be back in bed before Namjoon even stirs.

The heavy arm wrapped around your waist makes it difficult to want to move. Instead of peeling him off of your body, you find yourself nuzzling into the arm beneath your cheek and folding your fingers over the ones nearly tucked beneath your hip. You inhale deeply, trying to use the memory of his scent as incentive. On exhale you slip out from beneath him and slide the curtains closed as quietly as possible, allowing a dull darkness to coat the room. Carefully using your hands to navigate your way back to your spot, you feel along the mattress for his hand but it’s nowhere to be found.

As you wiggle back into place, his arm comes down over your waist to envelop you in a tight embrace. “Thanks for closing that.”

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum, closing your eyes even though the light airy feeling in your chest makes it impossible to drift off. You want to feel him against you like this forever. Missing out on the heated sigh against your ear, the covetous pull of his arm against your body, and the solid mass of his chest pressing into your back would be a crime.

“Namjoonie, are you going back to bed?” You turn your face towards him and he lifts his head to look at you.

“Are you?” The words are barely above a whisper, but cracked and rough, still thick with the grogginess of slumber.

The fan of reality begins to spin its blades of clarity, clearing the fog of sleep from your brain. Is this real? Is everything you remember real? You’re here in Namjoon’s bed, wearing his t-shirt, wishing you never have to leave. You’d wager it is. His dark brown irises disappear behind the heavy shades of his eyelids and reappear slowly as he takes in the beautiful wonder in your expression.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit, smoothing back the hair falling in his face.

He leans into your touch, letting his eyes close. You allow your palm to slide down his cheek and he turns his head to press his lips against it as it descends to cup his chin.

“Me neither,” he murmurs, slowly turning his slightly more alert eyes back to yours.

Why do I feel so nervous? We kissed. He told me he loved me. I told him I loved him. The hard part is over. I wanna do it again. So why do I feel like I’m gonna throw up? Why can’t I bring myself to move?

The longer you stare into his eyes, the more terrified you feel. Frozen in place, you begin the mental gymnastics you’ve grown accustomed to performing while thinking about him. Last night was emotionally charged. Maybe he was swept up in the moment. Did he really mean what he said? Maybe he was trying to make you feel better. Maybe now that it’s morning he regrets everything. Maybe that look in his eye is pity and you just want it to be awe.

He’s too good for you. He’s always been too good for you. Isn’t that the real reason you’ve never entertained this idea for longer than a millisecond? Because if you drop every defense mechanism you have and let yourself be raw with him, he’ll see he deserves far better. He’ll leave. The way he takes care of you, talks with you after bad days, assures you when your confidence wanes, massages your shoulders when he reads your tense body language, it’s all too good for you and he deserves someone who can do the same for him. But god. You still want it. You still want him. You’ve been ungrateful and clueless, but you can’t stop yourself from being selfish. How can he accept you being subpar when he consistently goes above and beyond for you?

“You’re holding your breath,” he comments, already aware you’ve got something big caught in the cogs of your brain.

You turn your head away to exhale, forcing a laugh. “You’re lucky. I’m sparing you my morning breath.”

As soon as your hand leaves his chin and it looks like you’re about to roll away, he makes the split second decision to catch your wrist. “Maybe I want it.”

“Don’t be gross Joonie.” You don’t dare look at him because you know you’ll only wilt under his gaze, but you allow yourself to be guided back against the safety of his chest.

“What? I’m dead serious,” he replies, releasing your wrist in favor of gliding his fingertips gently down your side. His gut is living in turmoil, preparing itself for the moment you say you want to call it off, that you want to forget everything again and pretend like nothing happened. He knew it was coming. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. Breathe.”

You want to tell him everything you’re thinking but the words won’t form. You take a deep breath in through your nose, choke on the exhale and flop your body around to face him.

“You can tell me. It’s okay. I’ll still be here. It’s okay.” The pit in his stomach threatens to pull tears from his eyes but he holds them in, rubbing your back instead and fighting the sickness building in his throat.

“I’m selfish, Joonie.”

The words are broken as they escape you and that stone in his stomach wrenches every last bit of dread it can from the dark tendrils around his heart, causing it to sink. He doesn’t speak. He can’t. He’ll break too. You’re crying as you look up at him and he feels himself cracking, falling to pieces in the moments between your words. Last night was too good to be true. He swallows and dons a mask of stone.

You swallow down the fear and embarrassment stinging your cheeks as you lay here trying to gradually pry your heart out of your chest for him. He waits with an unreadable expression, suffering without allowing a single complaint to pass his lips, despite your frequent hesitation. How does he have so much patience for you?

“You’re so good to me all the time. You know what I need before I do. And I… want to be that good for you. But I don’t know how.” A choked sob makes its way out and you stutter out an apology before continuing.

“You deserve someone who can pick up on things the way you do. I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you… but I want to be. I want to be so badly.” You sniffle, sucking in the snot threatening to drip from your nose. “I know it’s selfish, but please. Let me try to be half as good to you as you are to me. I know I’m a mess but I promise I’ll do my best. But I’m scared...” You swipe at your tears as his hand settles on your back, unmoving.

“I’m scared you’ll think I’m not worth the effort. Spending the night with you like this… Finally letting go of my fear... it was pretty much everything I’d been dreaming of for weeks, but now I just feel guilty because it's like I'm waking up next to an actual Saint and… you’re waking up next to a mess of a human. I’m sorry that I’m not… " You search for the perfect word, but fall short, just like you always do. "... better.”

A relieved laugh bubbles from his throat. “Oh wow. Me? A Saint?” Another string of laughter follows. “Is that what you’re worried about? Do I need to start teasing you again? Will that help?"

He pokes your side and you squeak. As much as he wants to pull more of the same sound from you by digging his fingers into your side, the urge to reassure you is stronger.

"I told you being messy is human nature. I mess up all the time… I’m just a human,” he says, smiling as he lifts your chin so you meet his glossy-eyed gaze. “...You erode all my edges and make me into love.”

He said that last night too. What else was it he said? It was so poetic but you’re struggling to remember. You grab his hand and press it to your chest. The t-shirt is a little wet from your tears, but it’s warm from the heat swirling in your chest. You hope he can feel your heartbeat beneath his palm.

“Something, something… and it becomes a heart?” you ask with a sheepish grin and a sniffle.

“Something like that,” he laughs, causing the tears wading in his eyes to crash down against his cheeks. “Listen. I didn’t fall for you because I want you to be some pinnacle of perfection placed on a pedestal. I fell for the you that you are. Every flaw is just another part I love. You’re... a lot of things, but selfish isn’t one of them. Seeing you as you are and not who you pretend to be… It’s more than I can express. But ‘I love you’ comes close.”

All the noise in your head scatters in different directions as he sweeps a path of clarity through your thoughts with his words. Your heart swells with the big inhale you take, causing his hand to rise with your expanding chest.

He pauses to roll his eyes and cut the tension. “At least not in this case. Trust me. If anyone’s selfish, it’s me.”

“You? Really? I don’t believe that. You're always too good to me. There's no way.”

You smile at the adoring look in his eyes, melting into a puddle when soft dimples form just outside his lips. How did you manage to not fall for so long? You look down at the shape of those luscious, velvety smooth lips spreading wide to expose a set of beautiful teeth. Your tongue absentmindedly swipes along your mouth as you try to purge thoughts of how good they felt nipping at your neck last night. As you swallow and bring yourself to focus on his eyes, he grins wider. You really have to work at being less obvious because this whole getting caught ogling him thing is becoming increasingly more embarrassing.

“Mmm. I think you’ll find I’m very selfish because I don’t want to share...” he trails, bowing to rest his forehead against yours. “I want to keep you to myself. Morning breath and all.”

Tingling goosebumps ripple across your body like an electric chill as you slip your hand around the back of his neck and shiver. You're pretty sure you have the biggest, dumbest grin on your face. When did you become so fucking smitten? “It’s yours then."

Allowing your head to drop back against the pillow, you gently encourage him to chase your lips, twirling locks of his hair in your fingers.

"I'm yours," you correct yourself with a whisper, need filling the cracks that uncertainty doesn't cover. "If you want me? Please say you want me still."

He uses the opportunity to slip his arm out from underneath you and uses it to prop himself up. His long fingers curl around your jaw and he tilts your chin up as he moves in closer. He pauses to skim his lips over yours before he speaks those reassuring words. "I want you. And I'll tell you as many times as it takes for it to sink in."

He closes the distance between you before you provide another insecure rebuttal for him to combat. He presses down on your mouth hard with his own but keeps his tongue to himself, simply allowing you to feel the heat of his lips against you. There's that chill again, wracking your body, hardening your nipples, facilitating the transfer of the hot, sticky wetness from your folds to your panties.

It's not enough. The fireworks in your head and the butterflies swirling a storm in your stomach leaves you euphoric and eager to consume more of him. You start to tease your tongue along him and he greedily reciprocates by pushing his tongue past your teeth and into your mouth. You gasp at the intrusion and he moves back, but you're not about to let him go. If he’s hungry then you’re starving.

He has to steady himself when you twist his hair in your fingers and yank down, earning you a guttural growl from the back of his throat that fades into a weak moan. The sound has you clamping your legs together, trying to contain the thin layer of slick coating the crease along your inner thighs right where they meet your underwear. You'll have to peel them off and wring them out if he keeps it up.

"So rough," he chides with a chuckle, almost taunting you back as he slides his fingers around the back of your head,

"Sorry," you mumble, dropping your palms flat against his back.

But you're not, not really. Letting him back off now would be truly devastating. You're already moving back in to drag his bottom lip through your teeth, earning another gravelly growl.

“I know you’re not,” he laughs as his lip snaps back to him, your smile giving you away.

He gives a small tug on the strands of your hair he's started twisting between his fingers. He doesn't know what he expected, but the soft moan that pulls from you isn’t it. The sound travels through him like a tuning fork and sets his nerves alight on a path that goes straight to his dick. Without hesitation he fists his hands deep in your hair, twisting as much as he can in his fingers and squeezes. Your mouth falls open and you gasp out a louder, needier moan against him. He presses his mouth harder against you, tongue claiming the space inside yours as its new home.

Your back arcs up off the mattress, arms curling around his neck as if to hold him in place so he doesn’t disappear like he has in so many of your dreams. The heat of his bare chest bores through the thin fabric of your borrowed shirt, firm pectorals squishing the soft flesh of your breasts. It feels like you’re going to explode if you don’t relieve some of the pressure associated with such salacious desire.

“Namjoon,” you pant in a whisper, rolling your body towards him in a frenzied need that drives the shirt up past your panties.

He groans a deep sound into your mouth, trying not to give in to every last lustful thought telling him to put his hands all over you. He knows it’s a delicate balance, exploring this new territory with you, but it’s so hard to rationalize actions with his dick leading his thoughts. He knows he has to reel it in or he is going to go too fast. When you roll your hips against him a second time, he lets himself get lost in the way your hand glides down his back. Your fingertips barely dip below his waistband before they’re coming back up and making their way across his arm. How is it you can make him want you more with every touch, every pant, every pass his tongue makes against yours? Suddenly both your hands leave his back completely and he’s about ready to start weeping. Fuck. You’re killing me.

You can feel the new bit of exposed skin rubbing against his sheets and you allow your body to relax its deathgrip on your thighs, desperate to feel any other part of him touching you. Just as you’re about to pull the sheet down for him to see what you’ve done, he hooks his leg over yours, wedging it between the previously immovable limbs. Oh fuck. I’m in trouble.

He’s about to expose how ridiculously wet you are and you two are just making out. If he doesn’t realize it, he’s still going to be wearing you all over his sweatpants.

“Wait, I…” Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding hard enough to burst through your chest.

He pauses to prop himself on his hands, towering over you. The knee between your legs sinks into the mattress as it supports the majority of his weight. He’s looking at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils so blown out that you can’t see any of the color surrounding them anymore. “What do you need?”

Don’t say your dick. Don’t say your dick. Don’t say your dick.

You’re frozen, terrified that he’s somehow gained the ability to read your thoughts. He exhales a soft sigh and his expression morphs into raw compassion. “Do you wanna stop? It’s okay. We don’t have to move so fast.”

He says that like anything the two of you have ever done has progressed at a pace faster than paint drying. You manage a conflicted sigh, combing your fingers through your hair. Wow. That’s oily. Becoming aware of your appearance, even in the relatively dark room, leaves you feeling insecure.

“Ah, it’s not that,” you begin, trying to explain without revealing just how embarrassed you are. You place your hands on the knee between your legs, feeling his body stiffen at the sensation. Your wrists are quickly pressed into the slick of your thighs when he shifts his knee forward. Oh fuck. He’s too close.

“What is it? Tell me,” he prods when your fingernails dig into his thigh.

You open your mouth to speak, meaning to use the cop out excuse of having to pee, but fall silent when you realize just how muscular his thigh feels beneath your palm.

“What can I do?” he asks, practically seeing the wheels turning in your head.

You nervously swallow, blinking furiously like you’ve forgotten how normal eyeballs work. “Nothing.”

“Okay, why are you being so weird?” he laughs, reaching down for your hands and pulling the blanket back as he moves. “You’re cutting off my blood flow with those little daggers you call nails. Have you been biting them again?”

Panic sets in when you realize you have nowhere to hide. You pull your hands away from his leg to avoid letting him feel how slick your wrists have become just rubbing against your inner thighs. Your shirt has risen up enough to bare your belly button, showing off the lacey black panties below. His eyes slowly drift down, fully taking in the way you look wearing his shirt before they get stuck on the flesh exposed for his consumption. He swallows hard and finally takes in the mouthwatering sight below. The band of stretchy black mesh bordered by a fine red lace encircles your hips, making you look like a gift presented specifically for him to start unwrapping with his teeth.

“Fuck me,” he mutters to himself in a low breathy tone.

You nervously laugh, feeling like your chest is about to cave in on itself. “I’m too embarrassed to do that.”

With his eyes focused elsewhere his hands reach out to clumsily grasp at yours. He drags his lip through his teeth as he draws the back of your hand to his lips. You freeze, knowing that you’re done for.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says."I know it's not that simple, but try it anyway."

He kisses your knuckles sweetly and starts to slowly work his way across the back of your hand, applying more passion to each kiss he plants on your skin. The closer he gets to your wrist the more tongue he offers, kissing, nibbling, and sucking at the slick partially dried against your flesh there. You’d be mortified if you didn’t find it so fucking hot.

Your chest heaves in silent waves as you watch him. He locks eyes with you, pressing his lips to your arm one final time with a coy grin.

“Is that what you were trying to hide from me?”

"Yes." Your voice is small as you admit defeat. You turn your head into the pillow so you don't have to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry. Can I just... Take a cold shower or something?"

Namjoon laughs. "Why are you apologizing? You really don't have anything to be embarrassed about."

Why are you apologizing? Your ex had ingrained in you that you were some freak of nature, but you've known for years now that he didn't know anything about women. Still, it seems that insecurity stuck with you. You bite your lip, mind wandering back the way Namjoon looked sucking your arm.

"Besides you taste amazing from what I can gather," he murmurs, rolling to lay flat on his back, folding his arms behind his head. "But if you really want to shower, I won't stop you. I don't recommend cold water, ever. I mean if you wanna, knock yourself out. If you go hot though, the ventilation can get kind of bad, so keep the door open a crack. I can try my hand at making breakfast. Don't think I haven't been picking up some skills."

You sit up, eyes traveling helplessly down his torso, roaming over his hardened nipples and raking in the divots along his stomach indicating muscles hidden just below the surface. A thin trail of dark hair below his belly button grows thicker as it disappears below the band of his gray sweatpants. Even in the darkness you can discern the bulge slightly tenting the fabric over his crotch. When you force them back up to meet his gaze, you find yourself distracted by the swell of the triceps framing his face. Have the back of his arms always looked like this? Has he always looked so fucking good?

The lip you've held in your teeth for the last minute or so has begun to pale from the pressure. You don't even realize you're giving him that deer-in-the-headlights stare until he reaches over to poke you in the belly.

"Are you going or what?"

You blink at him a few times. "Huh?"

"Shower. Yes? No? Or you gonna keep looking at me like that and tempting me with that bedhead?"

Your hand instinctively flies up to smooth down your hair, even though you know it's no use. How many times has he caught you staring at his body now? You've lost count, but it's still equally mortifying.

"I'm sorry if I seem like a tease," you mumble, eyes darting away. "I know you're the same person as before I said the words out loud, but my brain has decided it likes you too much and it's making me stupid nervous. I feel like I'm undergoing a critical system update. So like... bear with me while it finishes installing?"

He leans his head back against the pillow, rubbing his forehead with tented fingers. "Wow. Why is it the nerdy talk that gets me every time? How do you make it so sexy?"

A nervous laugh dissolves into a hum within your throat. "Sexy? Hmm. I think you've got the wrong girl."

He looks over at you, cheek flush against the pillow. "Nah, I've got the most perfect one."

"Ha. Well. You know what I got?" You continue nervously laughing as you slip out of bed.

"What?" He grins as you pause in the doorway, fabric of his shirt dangling against your thighs.

“I got youniverse,” you tease in a deep voice with a smirk. Deflection by humor is all you know.

“I was being romantic.” He groans, looking for something to throw at you. “Fine. I’m never doing anything like that again.”

"Please be patient while this update installs!" you call from the bathroom, already closing the door behind you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It's been a few minutes since the shower has been running and Namjoon can't stop thinking about how beautiful you looked beneath him. He stands at the stove with one hand tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants, the other holding a spatula so tightly his knuckles pale. Even the sound of bacon crackling can't distract him from the sight, the smell, the taste of you. He doesn't dare to peek his head around the corner.

He's still hard without imagining the way the water is rolling off your body. He doesn't need to go into the daydream of standing under that shower with you, pressing your tits against the glass and fucking you senseless. He definitely shouldn't be thinking about the water spilling onto your ass, your wet soapy hair knotted in his fist as he uses it to arch your back up towards him, or the sounds you might make as his cock disappears inside that tight little--

"Ah! Fuck!" he hisses.

The grease that splatters across his bare chest pulls him from his reverie. He turns off the burner and crosses the room, grabbing a shirt wedged between the couch cushions. As he turns around he freezes when he sees the bathroom door is wide open. That door doesn't move on its own. You did this, didn’t you? Are you trying to kill me, Geeksquad?

“You okay, Joonie?” you yell, voice echoing off the tile surrounding you.

His eyes are stuck on the blurry flesh tones peeking out from behind the textured glass, silently cursing each divot in its surface for the obfuscation of your form. The door slides open and you crane your neck to poke your head out, briefly swiping your hand over your eyes to clear the water from them. Suddenly your gaze is fixed on him, causing his teeth to clack together when he snaps his jaw shut.

Get it together, pervert, he scolds himself. The last thing he wants to do is screw this up and make you uncomfortable, but holy fuck he could cry at how hard you’ve made him again.

“Fi--ne.” His voice cracks and he clears his throat, walking towards the open door and fixing his gaze on the floor while clutching the shirt in his hand. “You, uh, left the door open. Do you want me to uh… shut it a little more?”

You shake your head, but realize he’s doing his damndest not to look. Saint Namjoon strikes again. Now it’s your turn to clear your throat. “Joonie.”

“Hmm?” His eyes dart to the tiled wall just outside of the shower. Close, but not close enough.

Come on, you plead, hoping he can read your mind. You roam your fingers through your soapy hair, swallowing the anxiety in your throat.

“Joonie, can you… look at me?”

His eyes waste no time racing to your face, taking a brief detour to the rippled glass clouding the details of your body. Feeling braver when his lips lazily drift apart, you slide the shower door open just a bit more to expose the outer curve of your breast.

“I left it open for you. I thought you might want to…” you purse your lips, feeling your chest tingle with uncertainty. This is so new and so hard to navigate, but you want it so badly you could cry. “Watch?”

“Watch...” He blinks slowly, brow furrowing in confusion like you’ve given him some complex equation to solve. “...you shower?”

Oh no. This is dumb. This isn’t hot. What are you doing? Forget it. You don’t know what sexy is, Y/N. Abort. Abort. Abort! Your eyes dance around the room, trying to focus on something else to calm the ringing in your ears, but your mouth keeps going anyway.

“I-I just thought, hey you know what this is a really nice bathroom. And this shower? I mean…” You don’t even pause as you grip the metal to slide the glass door shut, watching his obscured form hover in the doorway. “...look at this glass. So pretty! It’s like. Wow. Talk about craftsmanship. I’m actually surprised it’s still so clean considering how you live, y’know? Anyway I was just like hey, you know what would be a shame? Not letting Namjoon see his own shower. Yup. Just. I think you can really appreciate how it looks from the other side for once. Ha. It’s nice in here too, like from this side, but I think it’s good to see things from a new perspective every once in a while. Heheh, heh. D-Don’t you?”

His mouth splits into a grin and he drags his lips through his teeth, trying not to laugh. “Yeah it’s pretty great to see it like this. But uh… For a second it seemed like you wanted me to appreciate more than just the construction of my shower. Maybe the sexy woman in my shower? I could do that too, if you want.”

Sexy? The hot water nearly scalds your flesh as you turn the heat up, forcing steam to rise up and over the divider between the two of you. There’s that nervous laugh again, spilling out of your lips as you wash the suds from your hair.

“Eh? Oh no, the steam is too much I can’t see you. Namjoonie?” You lick your lips and slide the door to the side just enough to poke your head back out, allowing steam to billow out in puffs around your head. Your fingers stay curled around the opening, ready for the moment you feel brave again. “It’s not too much watching me… warm up?”

He wants to say it’s not enough, but he’ll gladly take what you give until you’re comfortable. He cocks his head to the side, dragging his lower lip through his teeth.

“I could watch you warm up all day. Though, I may suggest some other ways to do it so we’re not breaking my bank account with the water bill.”

Offering a shy grin you push the glass aside to reveal a sliver of your body for his thirsty eyes. Your palm glides up your body to cup the breast you’ve partially exposed. You angle your thigh towards the wall to show the water cascading down your skin. “Can you see me? Do you-Do you wanna get closer?”

It’s no use telling himself not to be so eager. He’s wished for this for such a long time that he can’t help the automatic steps he’s already walking across the vinyl flooring. He licks his lips and leans against the granite counter, preemptively brushing his fingers over the shape bulging in his sweatpants. “Is it okay if I do this?”

A longing sigh morphs into a strangled moan as it attempts to leave your throat. “Yes, please.”

At your sound those gentle strokes of his fingers turn into a palm roughly squeezing and tugging himself over the fabric.

Oh. Fuck. Me. That’s his dick. Your brain threatens to short-circuit at the sight of him palming himself over his pants. You can’t accept that the long shape beneath is actual size or you’ll fucking die. It has to be a trick of lighting, the bunched up gray material, or even your own mind. He doesn’t get to be attractive, smart, funny, and have a big dick. It’s in the laws of the universe. You refuse to believe it.

Even in your crisis your body responds to the sight of him. Shirtless, back slightly rounded as he uses the counter behind him for support, long fingers cupped around the shape of his cock, touching himself over his gray sweatpants like they’re not even there, and just watching you stand there like a statue with your breast hidden behind your hand. Taking a deep breath to gather your courage, you bump the metal frame on the slider with your elbow as you reach down between your legs. Smoky tendrils of water vapor reach out to draw Namjoon’s attention to the motion of you rubbing your swollen clit.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

His lips part in longing and his eyes roll back in his head for a fraction of a second. Your thumb works its way around your nipple as you massage the supple flesh in a circular motion, revealing a hardened peak in short bursts.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he groans, chest heaving as he plants a palm on the counter behind him and leans back on it as his other dives below the band at his waist.

If the vision of him palming his cock above the surface of his pants wasn’t driving you crazy enough, the sight of him pumping his cock below them sure fucking takes it to another level. The shower drowns out the sound of his fist frantically working himself from tip to base, but you’ve watched enough porn to be able to imagine it. You scan him up and down. His furrowed brow, half-lidded eyes, and open mouth have you leaning back against the wall for support, but it’s the fervent motion of his arm stretching his sweatpants that has your legs quaking beneath you.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, needing to pull the orgasm out before you collapse. Why did you think doing this in the shower was a great idea? Trying to focus on your orgasm while keeping yourself upright is torture. So close. So fucking close.

Your body is shaking as the water hits your torso, hand roaming your body for something more to help release the tension. Namjoon’s eyes are fixed on your chest, watching the water assail the flesh surrounding your nipple.

“That’s it, baby. You got it.”

He would scold himself for using a term of endearment he’s never used with you outside of his own fantasies, but you’re so fucked out he’s hoping you won’t call him out. The words of encouragement edge you towards release. You exhale a loud breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Fuck, Namjoon. I can’t...”

His eyebrows seem permanently knotted together, as though begging you for his own release. He can’t even think straight anymore. “Do it for me, baby. Please.”

The sound of his pleading has you on the brink of letting go. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling that surge coming. It’s going to hit you hard; you can tell. You straighten your legs, whole body tensing up.

“Oh fuck. Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joonie. Joonie. Joonie. J--”

Your foot slips.

The cause of your pained cry is multifaceted. First of all, the universe is a dick and loves to remind you that everything you do is forever shrouded in embarrassment and shame. Secondly, that orgasm was going to undoubtedly be the best in your fucking life and it was stolen from you by that fall. Thirdly, your hip feels like it’s been dipped in lava and no amount of biting your lip can help you play things cool.

Namjoon is hovering over you in an instant, shower spraying his back. “Are you okay?!’

Embarrassment floods your features as tears trickle down your cheeks. You want to nod in reassurance but you can’t help but shake it no. His hands cup the back of your head, forcing you to look into eyes that are too concerned to think straight.

“Did you hit your head?”

“No,” you manage to choke out between strained breaths. “Just my hip. Gimme a minute.”

You wail out a long sound, mostly just to vent your frustration at the situation. It makes him feel guilty even though he knows it’s not his fault. You sit up with a wince, but quickly burst into laughter when you notice he’s couched down in waterlogged sweatpants.

“Na-Namjoon, turn off the water,” you say, trying to hold back the giggles as you point up. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

He raises his eyebrows and blinks at you and then he looks down at himself. His mind was so preoccupied…

“Ah! Shit.” He reaches up to turn the knob and the water stops pouring through the head, though his sweatpants have already absorbed a massive amount. At least it made you feel better.

“Towel please,” you say, clutching your knees to your chest to try and cover your body.

He shakes his stupor off and leans out to grab the fluffy white towel hanging nearby. “You know, you can’t blame me for not thinking straight,” he grumbles, handing it over. “We were... having a moment.”

“I know,” you admit with a smirk, wrapping it around you. “I was enjoying it. Too much obviously.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He helps you into his bed and encourages you to lay back against the pillows, despite your protests that your hair is soaking wet and will dry before that pillow ever does.

“It’s fine. Relax,” he says rummaging through a drawer nearby. He disappears for a moment, the wet squelching beneath his feet indicating he’s going back into the bathroom, but you can still hear him. “You should probably rest your side.”

When he returns he’s sporting a pair of black oversized basketball shorts and he’s got both hands stuffed in his pockets. His golden brown skin seems to glow under the soft LED candles, shadows carved into muscles you never realized he possessed. The mattress sinks when he sits down on the edge of the bed beside you and you gulp.

“I’m fine. I’m just a clutz.”

“That makes two of us.” He smiles, eyeing the place where the two ends of the towel meet at your thigh.

“Can I look?” he asks without a second thought.

Your face burns with the flames of embarrassment. “Wh-What?”

His eyes widen as they snap to your face. “Uhhh, your injury! I definitely wasn’t asking to see your clit again. I mean, not that I wouldn’t love to see it again. I would. I just, uh…” He coughs and runs a hand through his hair. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You grin like a smitten fool, glad to not be the only one struggling with composure. The sound of the rain pelting the window nearby has become comfortable padding for the moments of silence you’re unsure how to fill. Slowly, you reach down to pull the towel aside just enough to reveal the red welt at your hip.

He grits his teeth and cringes. “Ouch.”

“It really doesn’t hurt that bad now,” you try to reason.

“Yeah, that’s bullshit.”

“No, really, it’s just a little…” you feel along the reddened patch of skin and flinch when your fingers make contact, allowing a little hiss to pass through your teeth. “...tender.”

“Hmm.” He looks at it closely, trying to figure out if there’s anything he can do. “Ah. Hold tight.”

He leaves and returns with an ice pack, gently pressing the cloth into your side to offer relief.

“That’s better, thank you,” you say, overlaying your hand on his and holding the pack in place. “But there is one more thing you can do, if you want.”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss it better?”

“I don’t think it works like that,” he says with a smirk, already pressing his lips to the skin outside of the ice pack.

Your eyes close and you roll your head back into the soft pillows. The sensation of his lips skimming the outside of your hip is driving you crazy, but he never lifts the pack. Instead he skirts around it and begins kissing down the outside of your thigh.

“Hold this in place, okay?”

His hand slips out from beneath yours and you look up just in time to catch him running the flat of his tongue in a line to your knee. As his dark eyes check in with you, he bends your knee enough to dip his head beneath it and press his lips to this side. Your calf rests on his shoulder as he begins to suck on the tender flesh at your inner thigh. He lightly nips at the skin and pauses, seeking your approval.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please, yes.”

He smiles, sucking your skin between his teeth and basking in the delighted sigh that passes your lips in response. You wiggle your hips as he works his way up, anticipating those big soft lips finally pressing where you want them the most. He climbs onto the bed on his elbows, positioning himself between your legs to get more comfortable. He pauses to admire the string of marks he’s left behind.

He grins when you hook your other leg around his shoulder and buck your hips towards him with need. “What, impatient already?”

“I was so fucking close, Joon,” you whine.

“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll get there. Chill,” he laughs, turning his face back to your thigh and pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses into it.

Despite this being everything he wants, he’s worried if he goes too fast, he won’t be able to enjoy it. He wants to take his time with you. You moan as he sucks another bruise into the soft flesh, inches away from your dripping cunt. He can practically taste that sweet tang on his mouth as he breathes in. To think you were embarrassed about this earlier… Ridiculous. Feeling the heat of your sex so close, he pauses to rest his cheek on the inside of your thigh and swipes his tongue out a few times to tease your labia.

You ball the edge of the towel in your fist and swipe the material away from your body. It’s useless to you now anyway. “Fuck. Namjoon. Please. Just do it already.”

“Do what?” He plays dumb as he smirks, lapping at your outer folds with the tip of his tongue.

You turn your head to the side and whimper against the pillow. The words are both breathless and desperate as they come out. “Please, eat this fucking pussy.”

So much for taking his time. He wraps his arms around your legs and drags you down just a bit meet his hungry mouth, groaning into your clit as he presses the flat of his tongue against it. Heaven. You taste like fucking heaven. He’ll eat you out every day for the rest of his life if you let him.

“Oh, god, yes,” you cry out, forgetting about the ice pack you’re clutching at your waist.

Both of your hands shoot down to tangle in his hair and he has to stop himself from grinding his hips down into the mattress as you tug. While he doesn’t want to cum in his pants, he allows himself to steal a glance up at the way your breasts have pushed together with your arms like this. Another breathy groan sends vibrations rippling from your clit up to your belly and it earns another weak moan from you in return.

“Fuck,” you whisper, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of the man eating you out better than anyone ever has.

You squeeze at your breasts, trying to keep yourself from pushing his head against you even harder. Just when you think he can’t be any more sinful, you feel the first finger glide into your pussy. You tense and take a loud inhale. Holy shit.

When you don’t make the pornstar noise he expects, his ego deflates a tiny bit. He lifts his head to look at your fucked out expression, noting the almost pained way your eyebrows come together and your eyes snap shut, rolling your head to one side.

“Nonononono, don’t stop, please.”

Based on that reaction, he already knows the answer and he feels foolish for asking. “Are you enjoying it?”

It’s not that he’s insecure. At all. You’re just not making the sounds other girls have made once he’s gotten them here. Okay, maybe he’s a teeny bit insecure. He continues to pump his finger into you, feeling the tightness in your walls clamp down on him. It’s hard not to imagine what that might feel like surrounding his throbbing cock. There’s the subtle chase of your hips coming down to meet his palm every time he thrusts his finger up into you. Watching it disappear inside you makes his eyes roll back.

“Joon, do you think I’d be this wet if I wasn’t enjoying it? Please. Keep going.”

He wets his lips, tasting you on them again before sucking back down on your clit. When he realizes how effortlessly his finger is gliding inside you he decides to add another, smiling when he feels your pussy clench and adjust to the newest intrusion.

“Na-Namjoon!” you cry out, throwing your head back.

“Mmm?” he hums innocently against you, flicking his tongue against that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Each pass he makes in tandem with his fingers causes that tingling heat in your belly to grow.

Your legs are shaking but your clit is starting to go numb, and a nervousness swells inside of you, blocking out all sensations of pleasure. You told him you’re a mess. You warned him. There’s so much you wish you could change about your brain. But the anxiety over letting go, of not being able to soothe the ache of another person’s shattered confidence ensures you won’t be able to reach that finish line without some miracle. It feels incredible at certain moments, but every time start to let yourself give in, your body tenses, reminding yourself there’s so much riding on making him feel good by reaching that climax.

If he’s anything like the guys you’ve been with in the past, he’ll focus on it. He’s not though, is he? Now you’re focusing on it. Now you definitely can’t cum. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. Could you just fake it? Would he know?

You’re unaware of the worry plastered on your face and as he looks up to read your expression, it tips him off. Ego only slightly battered, he removes his fingers from your pussy and licks them clean before climbing up the mattress beside you. Thankful for his ability to read your body language, you grab the towel and cling to it, clamping your legs shut and turning to face him.

“You’re anxious,” he says plainly, though you can’t help but take it as an accusation.

“You’re hot,” you fire back with a nervous laugh.

“And you look like a goddess right now, but that’s besides my point. Talk to me, Y/N. What’s wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like? You can tell me.”

You feel so fucking guilty. He’s too good for you.

“Look, you know I have trouble letting things go. Pleasure is… no different. I start to and then—”

“You panic?”

You nod and hug the towel close to your chin. “The last person I was with put a lot of stress on making me… you know, finish. And it was always, always my fault when I couldn’t. There was so much pressure over it that I forgot how to relax with another person. I couldn’t because I was thinking about how mad they’d be if I couldn't.”

“You know you don’t have to worry about that with me,” he says, pressing you towards his chest in a hug. “All I care about is whether or not you’re having a good time. I only stopped because I could tell you weren’t.”

“I just...I forgot how to let go. It’s been a long time since that person and still. I can’t do it unless I’m the one with my fingers…” You clear your throat, feeling embarrassed at having to have this conversation. “I know you’re not like them, but it’s hard. I feel like I failed you already.”

“Okay, one? Too much pressure on yourself. This is a partnership so let me take some responsibility. Which feeds into point two. It’s been…” He sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck as he counts the years. “A while for me too. You know, my skills could probably use some work. We should probably practice if we want to get better at making each other feel good.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, about that. Are you gonna stick your dick in me or what? I want to make you feel good too.”

His cock twitches in his pants and he presses his lips together. “Okay, for real? We were having a real, deep, thoughtful conversation about overcoming obstacles together and you just want me balls deep.” He can’t help but crack a smile. “I see how it is.”

You wave your hand in the air dismissively. “No, no. If you wanna plan it out in excruciating detail how you’re gonna make me cum all over your fingers and your tongue, be my guest. I just figured it was time I offered something other than my tech services. But, whatever, man.”

He swallows hard, deciding to play into the game a little more. “Great. We’re on the same page then. First of all that’s your humor defense mechanism and I will not be tricked into believing you’re just gonna--Ah...”

His words break off into a moan when you nip at the brown, pebbled nipple practically calling your name.

He groans. “Playing dirty?”

“Well, I am a dirty girl, right?” you ask, playfully planting a string of hot, wet kisses across the firm muscles on his chest.

“Hobi’s nickname for you is that accurate huh? Think he’ll abandon it now that you’re mine?”

“Oh, I’m yours, huh?” you tease, kissing lines down his stomach.

“Those love bites on your thighs say you are,” he says with an amused grin as you sit up straight.

“That’s just one thigh. The rest of me is fair game, don’t you think?” You giggle when that smile turns into a frown and you move to tease the band of his shorts down.

His hands grip the back of your neck and he pulls you down into a kiss. “I’ll just have to leave my name all over you then, hmm?” he whispers in a low, breathy tone that makes your pussy clench. “Is that what you want?”

He pulls on your hair, forcing you to expose your neck to him. He latches on, sucking and laving his tongue across it. You moan, reaching down for his waistband once again, fumbling to get it down past the erection sticking straight up. He helps wiggle them past his butt and kicks them down his leg, making sure he has freedom of movement he needs. You gape at the sight of the dark, veiny cock standing at attention as he sucks another bruise into the crook of your neck. You gasp in a hungry breath, trying to keep your mouth from watering at the sight of precum beading atop its dusty pink head. You’ve never wanted to ride someone’s dick so hard in your life. You move to straddle his waist, allowing him to dive down your collarbone and suck at the soft tissue leading down towards your nipple.

He grins against your breast, trying to subdue the tremble of his fingers as they settle on your hips.

“Ah!” you wince, realizing that welt from your fall is still pretty tender as his fingers ghost over them.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your nipple, teasing it with his tongue before sucking it in his mouth.

“It’s fine. Is it okay if I…” you position yourself over his dick and let it rest flat against his stomach. You slowly settle yourself on top and rock yourself back and forth, grinding your soaking clit perfectly on the head of his cock.

“Use me,” he grunts, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you down so he can get his mouth back on your nipple. “Please.”

There’s a dull pain in your side as his arms graze that spot and the way you’re grinding against him certainly doesn’t help, but you’re so fucked out and needy you’re pretty sure you could walk through fire for this man. It feels like his cock was made for sliding against your folds like this.

Your panting only grows more frantic as he switches his attention to your other breast. He nibbles at the neglected nipple and digs his fingers into the small of your back to keep from shaking as you roll your body against him.

“You feel so good Joonie,” you whine, fingernails digging into his chest.

He flinches at the daggers leaving crescent impressions over his heart and forces air through his teeth. If you keep this up, he’s going to be making a big mess all up his chest.

“Condoms. I have condoms,” he mumbles.

“I have an IUD,” you whisper. “We don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”

“I don’t wanna mess this up,” he whispers, pulling you down into a kiss as your clit continues to grind against his girthy length. You can feel his abs tense as his tip kisses your opening. “Ask me again when I’m not already so fucking close to putting it in. I can’t think straight.”

“That means we should. Where are they?” You whimper as his fingers reach down to rub tiny, gentle circles against your clit and he points to the nightstand beside the bed.

He sucks air through his teeth as your pussy spasms in response to his fingers touching you. You lean forward to reach for the drawer and he sucks your tit in his mouth, working his mouth over the flesh and letting his tongue leave trails all over your chest as you move forward.

“Joonie, you’re making it really hard to concentrate,” you chide, reaching in the drawer and pulling out the little box thankfully sitting on top of whatever other oddities he keeps inside that drawer. “How old are these?”

You flip the tiny box over in your hands, trying to read the packaging while he kisses your neck. Fuck, why is the type so small?

“Mmm bought em a few weeks ago,” he hums into your neck. “After the whole sleeping in your bed thing. Just in case.”

“3-pack, huh? Think you’d get that lucky?” you tease, ripping open the box. “You didn’t even open it yet. What if I asked you to fuck me when we were out?”

“You wouldn’t. You’re too shy.” He laughs, yoinking the condoms from your hand.

You puff your cheeks out at him. “But like… I could have though.”

“No, you couldn’t have,” he reminds you, eagerly tearing the foil in half. “Firewall.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You right.” You roll off him to give him space, chewing on a nail as you admire his form.

He breathes a soft sound through his teeth, trying to calm the nerves racing through his chest. You see the way his fingers tremble as they struggle to roll the latex down his shaft so you place your hands on top of his and help him. Yours aren’t much better in terms of stability, but you want him to know you’ll be nervous going into this together.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry with me either.”

A jagged breath escapes him as he leans into you. “I know.”

He breathes out trepidation before moving in to claim your lips with his own. The weight of his body presses you down into the mattress as he gently wedges himself between your legs. You can feel his tip poking at your entrance and you can’t help but wiggle your hips, hoping he’ll guide himself inside soon. You want to feel that delicious stretch with Namjoon filling you to the hilt and holding you close.

His hips are still as he dives his tongue in your mouth, cock offering only the slightest twitch at the way he can feel your walls pulsing, threatening to pull him in at any second. There’s no way he’s going to last if he goes in now. He just needs a second to compose himself. Maybe a few. Maybe a minute? His fingers trail shaky lines over your jaw, trying to distract you with the passion in his kiss.

“Are you okay?” you ask, breaking the kiss and watching his eyes carefully. “We don’t have to do this if you’re having second thoughts. If you’re not in, then neither am I. We can go watch a movie instead.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head with a dramatic sigh, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “You feel too good.”

“But you haven’t even… I mean, not really—”

“This feels too good,” he corrects himself, running a palm up and down your arm. “Being with you.”

“How is that a problem?” you ask, confusion marring your features as you run your fingers through his hair. “I feel like I’m floating, like I wanna keep chasing this high because I never wanna come down off of you. I want to feel even closer. ”

He exhales a long breath. How does he phrase this? “Uh, it’s a problem because I’m too excited. I want this to last and—”

“Oh you’re worried about cumming too soon?”

He swallows his embarrassment, saying nothing as he kisses at your collarbone.

“Don’t be. I don’t care how long you last. I just want to make you feel good. We’ll go for as long as you last and we have two more condoms for later, hmm? We can always get more if you’re feeling wild. My treat.”

“Sugar momma?” He looks up at you with adoration, your grin spreading to his lips as he presses them against you.

“Ew.” You laugh against him. “Me and my five dollars are going home, sorry. I’m out now.”

“Don’t play, come on.” He laughs softly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, pulling him into a deep kiss.

That’s when you feel his tip teasing your hole, slowly entering like he’s afraid he’s going to break you. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders as he sinks in, sighing in ecstasy against his lips. Your pussy squeezes him tight, already threatening to milk him dry before he’s even bottomed out inside you. Your walls pulse around him and you moan his name softly in his ear. Oh.Shit. Shit Shit.

He panics, sinking the rest of the way down as though burying himself inside you can hide the orgasm cresting too fast to stop. You cry out, clamping your arms around his back at the sudden stretch.

“Oh fuck, baby.” His breathing stutters and he pulls maybe halfway out before he slams his hips back into you, balls tapping against your ass. “Shit. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m cumming.”

“Joonie, I love you. It’s okay. I love you,” you whisper between passionate kisses.

His dick twitches inside you as he grunts, letting your tight pussy squeeze the cum out of him until he’s pretty sure he’s spilled everything he has into the condom. He’s breathing heavy, peppering your jaw with soft kisses. He’s growing soft inside you and it’s so fucking sensitive to subject himself to staying, but fuck, he doesn’t want to leave the comfort of your warm cunt.

With a defeated sigh, he ties the condom in a knot and tosses it in the trash before laying down beside you. “I swear I’m not a failure at everything.”

“You’re not a failure at anything. Come here, Joonie.” You gesture towards yourself, smushing your tits together for him as though he needed more incentive to climb on your chest.

He grunts but obliges, resting his head on your breasts and allowing you to comb your fingers through his hair. You place a chaste kiss on the top of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He turns his head into your skin and gives you a wet kiss right outside your nipple. When you shudder he grins.

“This was just… practice. I learned a lot already,” you shyly comfort him. “Like. Wow. Vaginas are amazing. I can really take that much dick. Crazy.” You pause to watch him smile. “Ha, knew I could get you to laugh. Don’t worry. I have a feeling we’ll do even better next round.”

“You want another round after that?”

“Mmm-hmm. Very much,” you giggle and lean in, voice low. “Now that I know how sexy you sound when you cum, how am I supposed to resist you? What, I’m just supposed to forget and let that memory go? Uh-uh.”

He looks down at his flaccid dick and sighs. “I need time to recharge.”

“That’s fine. I mean, you’ll give me some time to get worked up again too. Didn’t you mention breakfast? Weren’t you gonna show me your mad cooking skills?” you tease, poking his sweaty side with a finger.

He jumps up, not remembering if he turned the burner off or not. “Oh shit. The bacon!”

You start cackling as the image of Namjoon running out of the room stark naked sears itself into your brain for eternity. You reach over for your phone, debating texting Jennie about everything. You quickly decide you want to keep this to yourself for at least the rest of the afternoon. Tonight is Saturday, after all and it’s bound to come out once everyone is together.

You roll on your side and listen to the rain falling against the window. So this is love, huh? It’s nice.

#moonchildnet #smutcentralnet #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon fluff #bts scenario #love bytes

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saviorhandsome · 3 years ago

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도영 004

It’s Doyoung’s house and yet he’s late. Sanghoon watches the nanny rush the boy in, bowing profusely in an apology that Sanghoon doesn’t need. He stays seated in the armchair, a thought coming to mind. The past couple of times they’ve met, Doyoung has been accompanied by either his nanny or his father’s assistant? Advisor? Sanghoon’s curiosity is at its peak and he has a question for the older woman. Who wrings her hands together after he’s asked her to stay for a moment, letting Doyoung poke at the chessboard on the table with his own curious hands.

“Where is his mother?” Sanghoon asks quietly. And why do you look terrified?

The nanny wrings her hands together again, she never stops tugging on her fingers, actually, something Sanghoon notices as he waits for an answer. She looks worried, maybe she doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and give off the wrong impression. She shouldn’t worry though, he would never make an assumption about someone without looking into their eyes. Sanghoon hasn’t met Doyoung’s mother yet.

“She went shopping, she’s typically home in time for dinner, don’t misunderstand, Mrs. Lim is a good mother, she’s just —“

“I never said anything about her being a bad mother.” Watching this old woman worry herself over her choice of words amuses him, he quickly feels pity for her and holds out a hand, please stop. Her stammering to clean up whatever she was implying isn’t needed. Shopping isn’t a crime, stealing is. She walks over to Doyoung and smooths her hand over his inky hair. “I’ll come back to fetch you when you’re done, Doyoung-ah.” The boy more or less ignores her, the subtle nod of his head the only giveaway that he heard her.

—

“Have you ever seen one of these before?” Sanghoon asks once they’re alone again, the boy has moved pieces around a little and Sanghoon scoots them back in place as he waits for Doyoung’s answer. “It’s called a chess board, chess is a fun game. I think I might have been your age when my grandfather taught me how to play.” Days in the hospital felt so long until the familiar face with the creases in his eyes would pop in and make a young Sanghoon’s day more bearable. They would play until visiting hours were over and grandpa would promise to come around the home more often once Sanghoon was discharged. “Would you like me to teach you?”

Doyoung nods. Sanghoon makes a mental note to write down the lack of verbalization he has. Doyoung can talk, Doyoung can use his words, Sanghoon knows that, he’s heard the boy speak; only when he absolutely has to, the doctor has noticed. Every time they meet Sanghoon notices something new when it comes to the young boy. Today he learns that he’s an incredibly fast learner, getting the grasp on chess fairly quickly.

“You know… the more you play, the better you’ll get and you’ll win,” Sanghoon says after moving his Pawn, he’s taking it easy on the boy. Who lights up at the mention of ‘winning.’ Interesting.

“Do you like winning, Doyoung?”

Doyoung nods eagerly, sitting up a little bit straighter. They continue to play, Sanghoon teaching Doyoung tips and tricks he’s learned over the years. It’s down to Sanghoon’s Rook to Doyoung’s King. Sanghoon doesn’t take mercy on the novice players at the park, losing is the only way you can learn to play better in his mind. Sanghoon doesn’t take who he’s dealing with into account when he traps the King at the edge of the board, easily getting a checkmate and winning. Grinning to himself he sits back in his seat.

“Checkmate.”

Doyoung blinks owlishly at Sanghoon, a pink coloring his cheeks as he looks at the King piece on it’s side. “I lost?”

Sanghoon nods, opening his mouth to speak, he wants to tell Sanghoon it’s okay, that he’s still learning. He also lost the first game of chess he ever played, that practice makes you a better player. He doesn’t get that chance though.

Doyoung screams, catching Sanghoon off guard as he flips the table between them, sending chess pieces flying, gaining the attention of the people outside the room. The Advisor barges in, staring between a sitting yet perplexed Sanghoon and a standing, livid Doyoung who lunges at the psychiatrist, launching into his lap he attempts to wrap his hands around Sanghoon’s neck, the colliding force against his adam’s apple makes him cough in pain as his mind catches up to what’s happening.

The Advisor snatches a kicking and screaming Doyoung, Sanghoon coughing as he tries to catch his breath. Doyoung is a very sore loser and Sanghoon reaches for his pen, jotting down what transpired with a trembling hand. He’s never been strangled before, and he’s spoken to prisoners who have done worse to people, the glass wall a transparent protector as Sanghoon interviewed them for his research while he was in school.

Sanghoon isn’t afraid of Doyoung, this is only the beginning.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” He insists, motioning for The Advisor to put a squirming Doyoung down. “He’s not going to hurt me, are you Doyoung?” Sanghoon asks in a controlled voice, keeping eye contact with the boy. Whether it’s a lie or not, Doyoung nods and The Advisor puts him down slowly, getting on his knees he takes the boy’s arms, “why did you do that?!” He scolds, shaking him with his words. Sanghoon realizes he needs to remember this as vividly as he can for his notes. This session was far from a breakthrough, Sanghoon isn’t a quitter though. A simple scolding isn’t going to stop Doyoung from hurting people and Sanghoon wants to say that but he stays mum until the boy has been ushered away. They still had twenty minutes left in the session but he won’t mention that. Sanghoon also notices that The Advisor never instructed Doyoung to apologize to him. Which isn’t needed but it’s interesting enough to the doctor to keep note.

“I am so sorry,” The Advisor implores as Sanghoon cleans up. He lets out a short laugh as he stands up straight, looking at the other. “It’s fine. The chess set is cheap, don’t worry.” That wasn’t what he was referring to and Sanghoon lets out another laugh. “Oh, Doyoung? Well, isn’t that what I’m here for?”

‘Better me than his sister’ Sanghoon thinks darkly.

“You don’t understand… you’re the third person we’ve had to come try and fix him.” The Advisor admits shamefully.

Being left in the dark about things is something Sanghoon is learning to expect when he’s there. This is something they should have told him weeks ago, this is something his boss should have told him when he called him about this case.

“You’re our last hope, his parents have been looking at behavioral centers overseas, there is a program for kids in America they’ve been eyeing ‒”

“I never said I was quitting.” Sanghoon cuts in, taking in the way relief washes over The Advisor.

“Thank you, Doctor. We truly appreciate you trying to help little Doyoung, he was such a sweet baby, we don’t know what happened…”

He walks fast out of the estate, does bother to conversate with security as he typically does, getting into his car. Sanghoon puts his bag down on the passenger seat, takes off his glasses. His throat still hurts but he screams anyways, resting his forehead against the steering wheel as he tries to put what just happened into a box labeled ‘work’ in his mind to ignore until tomorrow when he makes the same drive back to deal with this all over again.

#dy4.

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flowerspecial · 4 years ago

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You Tease Him About Not Having Dessert

JB should have learnt by now to never underestimate you when the prize is food! Usually you aren't a very competitive person, but when the prize is food, that is when your competitive spirit comes out at all force. JB was genuinely gutted that he lost to you, the dessert in question was leftovers from the most luxurious restaurant you had ever been to. “You know JB, if you were actually better than me you would be able to experience this delicious food. But no...you lost, so you’ll never be able to taste this amazing, mouth watering food.”

Mark

Mark regretted making this delicious food the prize so much, why oh why did he put the whole weighting on this?! Ever since the food was delivered, both of you were eyeing it up, so why did he think that making it a prize so only one of you eats it would be a good thing? Your eyes were practically out of their sockets as you smiled at the delicious food that was in front of you. But before you could even take a bite you can see this pair of eyes looking at you. “Mark it's not my fault that you thought you were going to win. Maybe next time don't make the prize so good!”

Jackson

Date night for you and Jackson almost always ended up with you two playing a silly game and the loser almost always had some sort of punishment. Tonight, the loser was not allowed to eat any of the delicious cake that Jackson had brought home from one of his coworkers. Usually the loser is you, but you are a sucker for homemade cake, so you were ready to give it your all to win, and you did. You moved the cake in front of you and smirked at Jackson. “You know Jackson, I’ve always said that I will get my revenge. Well, revenge has never tasted so sweet!”

Jinyoung

Normally you would know to never go up against Jinyoung in anything. He is one of those people who just seems to be good at absolutely everything, and quite frankly it is infuriating. But you knew that there was absolutely no way that you could lose, not this time! When you did win, not only did you feel immensely proud that you had beaten Jinyoung, but it was even better that the prize was a desert that you two promised to eat together. “I knew your reign of winning everything would soon be over Jinyoung. And boy am I glad that it ended today!”

Youngjae

Now winning over Youngjae never seems satisfying because you can genuinely see his little heart break. And you are not a monster, at the end of the day you love him and seeing him getting upset even over a silly little game does not sit well with you. The prize for the winner was a piece of cake that you two had made for your anniversary, so the fact that it was a dessert which is quite sentimental made it so much worse for you. In the end, you would just give up, there’s no point fighting him. “Oh come on then Youngjae, have a slice with me.”

Bambam

So you'd know that if it was the other way round, Bambam would tease you relentlessly. Bambam would not give in to your pouting or pleading, so why should you? Bambam was so salty that you beat him in the first place, he was almost adamant that he was going to win. But now, watching you eating the dessert that he was so excited to eat, Bambam is acting like a big baby. “Bambam, you can pout all you want, but you aren't getting any of this dessert. You shouldn’t have underestimated me, should you?”

Yugyeom

Yugyeom would be quite like Bambam, in the sense that he just isn’t gonna accept that he lost. So what if you won? That doesn't mean you can actually take away the dessert from him. “Yugyeom, will you please stop staring at the dessert like that? You lost, get over it!” For a few moments you'd genuinely think that Yugyeom is gonna let it go. But the childish nature in him comes out before you’ve even had a chance to react. Next thing you know he is stealing the dessert right out of your hands and running to the bathroom with it. “Now you can't have any, haha!”

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #got7 scenarios #got7 blurbs

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

Text

Father’s Day

[Lasting embers au]

Jael is sleeping soundly in her bed until she feels something putting pressure on her arm. Slowly she stirs awake to Adam by her bed in his typical disguise. His hair laid down and temporarily dyed black, tented shades for the scar, and more pedestrian clothing. Jael carefully rubbed her eyes. It was nighttime judging by the light in her room.

Jael:Dad? I didn’t know you were coming home so soon. How was the mission?

Adam:Nothing worth talking about. It’s passed midnight, happy Father’s Day.

Jael:...I think you have this backwards.

Adam:Hehe, little bit but for good reason. Get dressed we’re leaving Menagerie.

Jael:...WH-*mouth covered*

Adam:Ssshh, your mother doesn’t know; I’ll apologize later. I already visited Sienna at her boot camp so don’t worry about you hogging me for the day.

Jael:Where are we going? And how exactly does this count as me giving you a present?

Adam:I get to spend time with my fourteen year old daughter doing something new.

He could see the happiness in her eyes when he said those words. Jael really was simple girl. All she ever wanted was time with him and he felt the same. She hopped out of bed and gently floated down. Jael wasn’t sure what he had planned but getting to leave Menagerie was enough. Finally, a chance to see the outside world.

Several hours have passed since they snuck out. Jael dozed in and out of sleep while on the ride in the airship, barely remembering it. Only that leaning on her father was strangly comfortable and Neo was flying the airship.

Now she rested on his back while he and Neo jumped from rooftop to rooftop in what looked to be Vacou from what books told her about the place. Jael wanted to walk around but apparently Adam didn’t want her to see the chattering streets yet.

Jael:Still haven’t explained why we are here. Not that I’m complaining.

Neo:Patience, baby goat. The sun will rise any minute now. Also you have me to thank for telling your father about this event.

Jael:Event?

Adam:Father’s day falls on a special day this year for Vacou. When Neo told me about it I knew I had to bring you. This spot should do.

He bent down to let Jael get off then got behind her. She’d be lying if she said her curiosity was running rapid; he seemed proud of himself by the way he spoke. Slowly he adjusted her to a spot that overlooked everything but it was still a little too dark to see.

Then...sunrise hit. Light slowly grew over the land and what couldn’t be seen before quickly became visible, leaving Jael speechless. The buildings, the people, the very sand, it was all bathed in color. Multiple colors that belonged on a spectrum she had told him she was apart of a few months prior. Jael was looking at a huge Pride Parade.

Her gaze on it was finally broken when she felt weight of something draped over her. Jael could barely hold back her tears as she wrapped the flag around her tighter and turned around to see Adam smiling and Neo putting on face paint; the bisexual colors if Jael remembered correctly.

Jael:I...I don’t know what say right now.

Adam:A few months ago you came to me terrified, not sure what I would think if you told me you were lesbian. Remember what I said?

Jael:You were happy you didn’t have scare any boy?

Neo:Oh my god.

Adam:Okay, I did say that, but after I said...

Jael:*smiles* Your love for me as my father is on every spectrum.

Adam:No you know how serious those words are. I love you.

He opened his arms and Jael quickly ran to be embraced by them, happily shedding her tears of joy. Definitely not a conventional Father’s Day gift, but it’s the best one yet.

xxxx

Ren was having a calm morning. For the pass two weeks Nora and Tenzen had been gone on some camping trip so his days had been quiet. A little lonely but he could handle it. He knew today they’d be back. They didn’t say they would but if he knew his family...

Nora:*opens door* We’re home!

16 yo Tenzen:Yeah!!! Happy Father’s Day!

No way they would miss today. Both of them were dirty, unusually dirty. Specially their hands and knees seemed extra worn out.

Ren:You two okay? You both could’ve washed up before rushing back. Honestly it wouldn’t have bothered me if you came back halfway through the day.

Nora:Don’t worry about us. Nothing is too much when it comes to spoiling you.

Tenzen:She’s right, we’d move mountains for you. Or in this case...rubble.

Ren looked confused by Tenzen’s words. The boy reached into his bag and pulled out a wrapped present to hand to his father. It was small and rectangular; too thin to be a book Ren thought. He unwrapped it gently and gasped when the paper was finally removed. Tears instantly came from him.

Nora and a Tenzen took the opportunity to stand on each side of him and hug tightly. They smelled like the great outdoors but he didn’t care. Why would he when they had just given him a picture of his mother and father holding a infant version of himself. All that rubble that must’ve buried it, and it remained okay. He took ahold of their tired hands and held them close to his chest.

Ren:Thank you...

Tenzen:Like mom said...

Nora:Nothing will ever be too much.

xxxx

Jaune was having his own emotional moment. It wasn’t unlike Yujin to try and do something creative but this time, she went big.

Currently he stood on his porch and stared at the fifteen year old girl who wore her ‘Proof Jaune Arc Got Laid” t-shirt like she did every year, but that wasn’t the amazing part. What had him speechless was the dozens of family members that stood behind her. Yujin managed to get them all the way to patch.

Jaune:Wh..what’s all this about?

Yujin:I had them all show up so you couldn’t dispute what I’m about to say. Dad, Jaune Arc, I owe you so much. Yes it takes a villages to raise a kid and I know you had plenty of help but that doesn’t change that you were always in my corner. Me, the girl who refused to open up to you sometimes; who truly deserved strong lecturers for her attitude instead of the hugs you decided to give. Every single day you gave me so much love and affection above what I thought possible in order to make up for mom. All the kisses, hugs, late night talks, t-tears....

Her voice started choking up and her eyes began to water as she kept speaking.

Yujin:When I was at my lowest and filled with anger you never lost your patience with me. Instead you made sure I continued to eat and gave me space to go through it all. Then the moment I called for you, there you were, by my side ready to talk. Almost sixteen years of living in that house filled with love has gone by and I just need you to know that even as I get older, act like I might have everything figured out, and go off to Beacon soon thanks to your training. I’m always going to be your little girl and I love you from the very bottom of my heart. So can you please shut me up right now and hug me.

Jaune:*sniffling*You can run over here anytime.

Yujin ran up the porch steps and gave Jaune the biggest hug she’s ever given, crying ever so slightly as he rubbed the back of her head. He could hear the clapping and tears from his many family members, but noticed one thing. No Tai. He felt a sudden surge of warmth as he saw through his watery eyes the main in question through the trees, hugging his own daughters who should be hundreds of miles away.

As if by instinct, both girls looked in his direction, also emotional. He knew they couldn’t stay. That Raven most likely opened a portal so they can have a moment with Tai who would’ve been sad not seeing them. Yang looked at him lovingly as she watched him hold their daughter. “I love you” could be easily read from her lips and smile on her face as he mouthed it back. Then, they left. He thought it best not to tell Yujin. He knew Yang would eventually be able to come home, that Yujin would see her mother again. Until then, he’d continue giving his daughter enough love to make up the difference.

Jaune:Yujin, thank you for being my daughter. I know your mother would say the same.

[Twin Snowflakes au]

Valerie:Hey dad, I need your opinion on something. Can you come in the living room for a second?

Ren:Sure thing. What’s-

Right in in the middle of the room were two game pads and Valerie in baggy shorts and a green tank top. Ren looked at the tv flashing DDR in neon colors.

Valerie:So I was in town and found this game store selling this pretty old game. Apparently on two player it’s supposed to be really fun and competitive so I got to thinking.... I bet dad wouldn’t mind a few rounds.

Ren:Nora has been talking about the old days again?

Valerie:Perhaps, so, think you can show your daughter a thing or two? The apple might not far too fall from the tree. Happy Father’s Day.

Ren:*smiles* Don’t cry when I blow you out of the water. Loser pays for dinner.

Valerie:You’re on.

xxxx

Qrow quietly reads a book at the dining room table like usual during lunch time when suddenly, he feels eyes on him. He puts the book down to see Winter and Sparrow quietly sitting down at the table with their own books. The only difference is the fancy glasses have been placed by each of them, along with a bottle in Sparrows hand.

Qrow:Is that....?

Sparrow:A bottle of the most expensive rum, made only in Salem’s previous territory? Why yes it is.

Winter:The same rum that can only be acquired after slaying countless grimm. Now I know I typically discourage you from spirits and don’t drink myself, but Sparrow is twenty one and did all of this for you. I think that deserves a toast.

Sparrow:Happy Father’s Day pops. Cheers!

Qrow looked at two pour him a glass before raising there’s with excitement. Was getting to drink with him this exciting? He couldn’t help but feel flattered and raised his as well with renewed vigor. A drink with family, now that sounded pretty nice.

Qrow:Cheers!

xxxx

Breakfast was in the air at the Schnee Manor. It might’ve been his special day but that didn’t n make anybody suddenly a cooking genius so Jaune was flipping the pancakes like usual. Weiss and Summer were a little red with embarrassment as they shifted around in their Pumpkin Pete onesies he had gotten them years ago.

Jaune:You know you don’t have to wear those every year right?

Weiss:You can’t say that when you smile really big whenever you see us in it.

Summer:We’ll stop when you stop caring, so never.

Jaune:That’s a present all by itself.

Summer:Well prepare for two more. I got something for my number one fan and teacher.

Weiss went around the corner and pulled out a white and yellow electric guitar with his symbol on it. Jaune nearly flipped the pancake too high, he was actually shocked. If she bought that then it meant one thing...

Summer:Let’s go around performing for people and putting smiles on faces today. A father and daughter duet!

Jaune:If this is the first present then what could possibly be the second one?

Weiss:Months ago your kids helped raise some extra money for Argus and Vale. Now Remnant has two Pyrrha statues, both in beautiful condition.

Jaune could feel his heart swell up. Weiss walked over and turned off the burner while he processed that info. A smile came across his face as he hugged both of his lovely women tightly.

Summer:Happy Father’s Day. Nick-

Jaune:He told me earlier before he left. I’m proud of what he’s doing.

Weiss:Summer, why don’t you go wash up and get dressed so you’ll be ready to go after breakfast.

Summer:Sweet! I can take this off. Love you dad! *runs off*

Jaune:Today is a good day.

Weiss:It gets better. You actually have three presents.

Her face turns a brighter red as she grabs ahold of his, making him tug on the zipper slightly. Jaune nearly chokes on his own breath as he discovers Weiss is only wearing the onesie. He regains composer and teasingly makes her yelp by slipping his hand though.

Weiss:*crimson* Happy...Daddy’s Day...

Jaune:....*puts her on the counter*

Weiss:Jaune there is food out!

Jaune:I’ll make more...

xxxx

At there other estate, Nick warmly embraces Whitley while clutching gifts he didn’t even get the chance to give yet. The older man can only hug him tighter and hold some tears.

Whitley:This means more than you can imagine.

Nick:As far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been a second dad instead of an uncle. Happy Father’s Day.

[Premonition]

Lucas sat silently on the the Belladonna steps watching the crescent moon. The cool air making its way from the sea brushed passed his face and put the boy at ease. Moment’s later he heard approaching footsteps get louder before stopping next to him, his caring father took a seat.

Jaune:Waiting for Blake to get back from her meeting?

Lucas:Nah, I needed fresh air. You always get antsy whenever I step aside.

Jaune:It’s a miracle every time I can get you off the couch and into town. Let me guess, you knew I’d come to you if you walked outside.

Lucas:Yep, all part of my master play.

Jaune:To what?

Lucas:Tell you Happy Father’s Day. You know I’m not really good at this sort thing but... here.

He lifted up a small bag by his feet and gave it Jaune. The knight grabbed the bag and instantly let out a chuckle the moment he felt the box. He wasted no time pulling out the cereal box that honestly surprised him on closer expectation. Jaune Arc....was on the box, he was on the box!

Lucas:I may have told mom how crazy it was that a hero like yourself wasn’t on his favorite cereal box and got a good petition going around. Pretty cool huh?

Jaune:You...I...what!? Hell yeah it’s cool! Honestly I thought the plan was stargazing and that would’ve been fine.

Lucas:So why not both? Cereal and stargazing.

Jaune:I say...I’ll go grab the milk.

Lucas:I’ll get two bowls.

Blake:Make it three!

The two gentlemen looked down to see Blake walking up the steps. Jaune quickly walked down and gave her a thank you kiss.

Blake:I wouldn’t mind eating the “breakfast of champions” right now. Especially with that hero on the box.

Jaune:Aww you spoil me.

Lucas:Hehe, three bowls it is.

[Rosebud]

Jaune: That was dangerous!

Carmine:I know.

Jaune:You could’ve been killed!

Carmine:But I wasn’t!

The two have been liked this for hours. They had gone on a mission together where the point was to evacuate a village under attack. All lives successfully saved fortunately, but it was a close call.

In a lapse of judgement, Carmine had abandoned the her responsibilities to help Jaune with a Goliath that gave him trouble and she had gotten work hurt in the process. If it weren’t for his semblance, she’s sure her ribs would be broken right now.

Ruby had managed to calm them both down and split them up, Carmine opting to go outside. This should be the last day to be arguing. Jaune sat quietly at the table and watched Ruby get closer to hold his hand.

Jaune:She could’ve been killed...

Ruby:Yeah but from the sound of it, losing you today was possible as well. In either scenario, I would’ve been devastated.

Jaune:What’s a greater loss?

Ruby:Don’t even try to put that on a set of scales. Everyday we look at her and worry but I’m not gonna pretend Carmine and I don’t hold our breath when we see you endanger as well; don’t act like you don’t do it for me.

Jaune:...

Ruby:Sometimes our nerves get the better of us. We know that all of us can handle things but yet we find ourselves calling out to each other while rushing in. I don’t she’ll ever say it but... I’m sure she’s scared sometimes. She’s sixteen after all.

Jaune:Yeah, sometimes I forget that. She used to fit in my hands for crying out loud. Taking her on missions is still a little unnerving.

Ruby:Give her time. I’m sure-

The door opened and caught their attention. They hadn’t realized Carmine took Garnet outside too. The adorable four year old excitedly pointed outside. Ruby rushing over before he tired himself out.

Suddenly she alone started pointing and looked amazed. Jaune was left no choice but to take a look, he glad he did. The front yard was filled with white and yellow roses shaped in the Arc crest. Carmine was kneeling in middle of her work tired and with her sword stabbed in the ground.

Carmine:Do you remember...when you I asked you how to be a knight all those years ago?

Jaune:I do. I said, I said I wasn’t sure. That I never really thought of myself as a good example of one.

Carmine:I’ve thought about that a lot recently. You gave me such an unexpected answer. How could you not know when I’ve seen you been so kind. The way you fight for us, your loyalty to your family, empathy, wisdom, courage; I saw it all. Then I realized, maybe I was really asking how I could be more like you?

Jaune:...

Carmine:We’re different. Our thought process, opinions, etc. I’m beginning to think maybe I can never hold those qualities like you. Which really...frustrates me. Because dad, you are my ideal knight! I know I messed up and-

He walked towards her, unsheathing his sword on the way. Jaune stared at his visibly tired daughter. How often did he see this strong and capable fighter express her woes so freely? Ruby was right, he must’ve really scared her. Jaune lifted his sword and tapped it on each of her shoulders.

Jaune:Carmine...were you scared today? Of losing me?

Carmine:What kind of question is that?

Tears ran down her face. Jaune knelt down and captured her in a hug.

Jaune:I’m sorry...

Carmine:I’m sorry too. Dad I...I love you okay? So please, don’t scare me like that and I won’t scare you. Deal?

Jaune:It’s a deal. And don’t worry about being like me. I do what can do, so you can be like yourself. I know it’ll be just as great.

Ruby held Garnet close and watched two of the most stubborn people on her life hug it out. As far as she was concerned, they were both perfect, as knights or otherwise. They cared about each other. What could be more perfect than that.

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