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beom-pyu · 1 year ago

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i can't swim, idiot ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags: best friends to lovers au , beomgyu is annoying(ly cute) , fake dating? nah... fake married? bingo! , reader is so fed up with beomgyu how is he still alive , fluff , black cat x golden retriever dynamic ??? , hinted bisexual!beomgyu happy pride month , hinted pining , nsfw , some cliche moments bc who doesn't love a good cliche

warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a wife and "mrs" , cursing , playfully (?) threatening each other's lives , soft dom!beomgyu , sub!reader , pool sex , unprotected sex , marking , praise , creampie , cum eating , morning sex <3 , cunninglus (fem receiving) , overstimulation , dry humping , big dick gyu community please gather

a/n: another summer fic for you lovelies!! <3 i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i had fun writing it! (not edited yet!)

song recs: island - youha, spotless mind - jhene aiko, nature feels - frank ocean

wc: 10.7k+

[I THINK WE JUST GOT SCAMMED.]

“wait, wait, wait. you did what?”

you slowly lower your lukewarm cup onto the cafe table before taking out your airpods—no music is playing, but you want to be 100% sure you heard him right. your best friend shoots you a lopsided grin from across the table, stirring his drink with the chewed straw in between his fingers.

“i entered us into an exclusive giveaway for married couples to win a trip to greece for a week?”

one by one, you can feel your brain cells begin to die off at his words, your eye twitching while beomgyu smiles innocently at you.

“beomgyu, i’m going to ask you a simple question and i want a simple answer.” pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale for a second before meeting his eyes with the most exasperated gaze you've ever worn in your life. “why?”

the brown-haired boy is all too quick with a reply.

“why not?” beomgyu shrugs, his tiny grin morphing into something menacing on his lips—as if this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in all of his 22 years of life.

you have the sudden passing thought to throw your coffee at his face, but that’s a precious $6 you’d never get back, so you refrain from doing so. instead, you take a slow, deep breath and momentarily close your eyes. “god, if you’re out there, please, please give me patience.”

“i’m pretty sure the phrase is ‘god give me strength’,” beomgyu retorts from his seat across from you, sipping annoyingly on his nearly empty caramel frappe.

you blink at him once, twice. “if god gave me strength, you’d be in a casket right now.”

beomgyu simply cackles at your response, feigning a scared face with his hands up like he’s being held at gunpoint before he continues to laugh at his own mockery. you kick him under the table, successfully wiping that wide smile off of his dumb face.

“what was that for?” beomgyu whines with a pout, reaching down to rub his shin. a few heads turn to see what the ruckus is about and you shoot them a polite, apologetic smile and bow before turning back to mr. drama queen. the kick wasn’t even that hard.

“did you even think about what would happen if we actually won? we don’t have the time nor the money for a resort in greece.”

“oh, calm down, y/n. you know no one ever actually wins those things, right? they’re all scams.” beomgyu waves you off with his hand before bringing the green straw back up to his lips, your ears bleeding at the sound of his obnoxious slurping. you can’t stand his face.

“and how are you so sure of that?”

“because i entered that nickelodeon giveaway thing when i was 11 and never heard back from them.”

you blink at him again, thrice this time—just in case you’ve been transported into a different dimension and a stupidity demon has possessed your best friend’s body. nonetheless, beomgyu is still grinning idiotically as he chews on his straw, tilting his head at you like a maltese.

“please be so serious right now.”

“i am! plus, even if we do win—which we won’t—and it’s not a scam… shit, that’s a free trip to greece!”

the joy on his face boils your blood to no end. he’s truly dense; you can’t believe you’re insane enough to call him your other half. everything on earth must be balanced out, you suppose—the yin to your yang.

“have you considered the fact that we aren’t married?” you cock your head at him, hands folded on top of the table, speaking slowly as if you’re talking to a child… hold on, wait—you literally are.

“shoot—could’ve fooled me!” beomgyu lets out a puff of laughter. “we might as well be.”

you blink at him again.

“please don’t ever say that again. i think i just threw up in my mouth.”

beomgyu rolls his eyes before snatching his phone out of his pocket with the speed of light to show you the flier he had screenshotted. he shoves the phone in your face, tapping incessantly at the bottom text of the photo.

“look. it says all expenses paid.”

you stare at him with a silent ‘so what?’ and beomgyu sighs dramatically as he lowers his phone. he has the nerve to be exasperated with you? you’ll never understand where men get the pure audacity.

“so you’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t pretend to be my wife for a few days so we can get a free trip to greece?”

you look him straight in the eye. “beomgyu, i’d rather be burned on a stake.”

“yea, 'cause you’re a fucking witch,” he mumbles under his breath, trying to hold in his laughter. you don’t know how much more patience you have with him, so you simply exhale, checking the clock on your phone.

“i don’t have time for this—i gotta get to my lecture,” you huff out, standing as you grab your bag that sits by your feet. beomgyu pitifully whines, looking up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes known to man.

“would you seriously not do it?”

it’s now your turn to laugh, picking up your coffee to take a big sip. you’re gonna need the caffeine.

“those things are scams, gyu—you said it yourself! see you later.”

☆

nights are oh, so serene, you think, as your head hits your fluffy pillow later that night. you’re freshly showered and tucked under your covers, snug as a bug in a rug as you doze off to the lovely scent of your hibiscus air freshener and the quiet waves of your sleep sounds machine. there’s no need to count sheep—you’re completely drained from all of the walking you had to do today. all of your classes just so happen to be on opposite sides of the campus, and you’re sure your step counter is on the verge of exploding by now.

your mattress feels even comfier today, a slight breeze coming through your cracked window, balancing out the heat from your thick duvet. it takes no time at all for you to be tugged under by the lust of sleep, drifting off to a perfect dreamland full of bright colors and open fields and your blaring ringtone.

wait.

your ringtone?

you don’t even bother to open your eyes, patting around your bed for your phone before you feel the cool screen against your fingertips. it takes a few failed swipes to actually answer, mumbling out a half-asleep “hello?” as you lazily press the device to your ear.

“hi, my wonderful bff. my world, my girl, my bro, my home-shizzle! hypothetically, on a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if i told you that the greece trip thing wasn’t a scam? and that we won? and that we leave in 2 days? hypothetically.”

the silence is incredibly loud.

…

“eleven.”

[NEWLYWEDS.]

three months ago, if you were to tell yourself that you would be adorning a fake amazon wedding ring with your best friend’s arm wrapped around your waist as you stand inside some modern insurance firm being interviewed as a newlywed couple—well, you probably would’ve admitted yourself into the nearest asylum.

you don’t know what choices from your past led you to this moment, forcing a smile as a middle-aged woman with the cleanest-cut bob you’ve ever seen enthusiastically shakes your hand before moving on to beomgyu’s. he seems completely unfazed and the thought alone irks your soul to no end.

truthfully, this is all your fault. if you would’ve just told beomgyu that you are not going to pretend to be his wife for a week, you would’ve never ended up in this situation in the first place. but can anyone blame you when he offered to pay for your coffee every single day for the next 6 months, and wash your car, and take out your trash for as long as you ask him to?

right! any sane person would’ve said yes, too!

so here you are as mrs. choi (gag), laughing along as the lady cracks a few jokes, complimenting beomgyu’s silky hair and your bright smile before sighing dreamily.

“my goodness, aren’t you two just the cutest newlyweds i’ve ever seen! how many months has it been?”

beomgyu looks down at you with a soft smile; anyone who is meeting him for the first time would’ve taken the gaze as something filled with pure adoration and undiluted love… but you know him. you see the way his eyes sparkle with mischief, the annoying quirk of his playful grin, and the pure amusement that washes over his features at your subtle glare.

he’s having way too much fun with this.

you pinch his side hard, a small bout of victory washing over you as he flinches.

deserved.

“we’re coming up on three months now?” beomgyu speaks through slightly gritted teeth before looking back up at the short woman, sending a charming smile her way. she squeals, bouncing on her heels and you bite back a grimace at the sheer volume.

“we decided to travel a bit before settling down and buying a home here in seoul,” you speak robotically, following the exact script you both came up with in your notes app on facetime last night. beomgyu hums in affirmation, tapping your side in a silent “good job”.

“awe! how sweet is that? what a wonderful idea to travel together while you're still young and nimble, unlike this old lady right here.” the lady honks out a laugh as she points to herself with her thumbs. you glance over at beomgyu who seems to be having the time of his life and—the regret of saying yes quickly settles deep in your bones. “you pair are such a lovely and beautiful couple!”

her high-pitched and overly enthusiastic voice pierces your ears and you can already feel the headache coming on.

“well, what can i say? it was love at first sight. i knew i had to make her mine and see the world with her as soon as possible,” beomgyu smoothly recites, gazing back down at you with the same look as before. you feel the bile rise in your throat. the words are so foreign to your ears, it’s almost jarring. the lady doesn’t even notice your discomfort and continues on and on about how cute you both are, how you remind her of her niece, and how beomgyu should totally be a model.

you force the fakest smile ever as beomgyu pinches your side, a cue for you to speak up. resisting the urge to punch him for pinching you (even though you had done it first), you simply nod along with an artificial laugh, your hand coming up to rest on his chest in faux infatuation.

ew.

“marrying beomgyu was the best decision i’ve ever made. i’ve never been happier.”

you swear you feel your eye twitch as the lady coos—she claps her hands excitedly, her short bob bouncing with the movement.

“how heartwarming! i’m sure this trip will bring you even closer, shedding a new light on the glitter of your love for decades to come!”

you and beomgyu are silent for a beat—because what the fuck is she even saying?—before awkwardly laughing, nodding along in hopes that she’ll wrap this up quickly. the lady’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as a stiffness fills the air, clapping her hands again as he ushers you two towards the lyft.

“better get a move on so you don’t miss your flight! i hope you have a wonderful time, lovebirds! and congratulations once again!”

the car is absolutely silent as you both settle in after all of your luggage is loaded up. beomgyu has this annoying, close-lipped smile on his face, his lips pursed like a duck—he’s so obviously trying to hold in his laughter as you grumble under your breath, snatching that stupid plastic ring off of your finger.

you glance at him before rolling your eyes. “go ahead.”

in the blink of an eye, his boisterous laughter fills the car, high and squeaky, and you silently empathize with the lyft driver who subtly turns the radio up to combat the intrusive noise. beomgyu’s doubled over, patting his leg as he gasps for air, eyes squeezed shut; and as much as you hate to admit it, your own lips quirk up into a small smile at the sound. curse your best friend and his contagious laughter.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” beomgyu heaves out before another round of giggles leaves his lips. he reaches up to push his hair out of his face before wiping at his eyes dramatically.

“i didn’t think i had it in me,” you agree, giving in to the grin that slowly spreads across your face. you make the horrible decision of meeting beomgyu’s eyes, and it takes less than a millisecond for you both to aggressively burst out laughing, bodies falling against each other's as your limbs grow weak.

“no, that was the funniest shit ever, i swear. we sold it.”

“for a second, i actually thought you were really in love with me.” your laughter slowly dies down as beomgyu lifts himself off of you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath. you’re sure you don’t look any better—you definitely have abs after all of that.

“i just had to pretend that you were i.u,” beomgyu admits with an overexaggerated dreamy look off into the distance. you’re quick to fall into another fit of laughter but for a different reason this time.

“i.u doesn’t date freaks.”

beomgyu’s lips dramatically pout as he crosses his arms over his chest like a little kid, scoffing at your comment. “why do you always have to crush my dreams?”

“i don’t always crush your dreams. only when they’re stupid.”

“so… always?”

“no—yes.”

beomgyu’s quiet for a moment, turning his head to look out the window. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, but the expression quickly smooths out as he turns towards you, uncrossing his arms to play with the fake ring on his finger.

“i’m not taking the couch.”

“what?”

“it’s a couple’s suite. i’m taking the bed since i’m the one who entered us in the first place.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes again—your mother had told you that one day your eyeballs would get stuck in the back of your head, and right now, that idea didn’t seem so bad. beomgyu’s teasing smile is anger-inducing, and you think you might rip it off if you have to look at it any longer.

“what happened to chivalry? i’m your wife now, so as the man, you have to give me the bed.”

“fuck chivalry! you’re mean to me. i owe you nothing,” beomgyu huffs, squinting his eyes at you.

“i’m not mean to you,” you immediately defend, hitting his arm for even making such heinous accusations. beomgyu gasps, reaching up to hold his arm where you made impact.

“see? mean!” once again, the dramatics are almost admirable—there’s no way that hurt. he’s been hitting the gym with his roommate taehyun lately, and you’ve seen the way he’s bulked up from the scrawny shrimp boy he used to be in high school. if anything, the hit hurt you!

“let’s play rock paper scissors, then. two out of three gets the bed.”

beomgyu huffs, but obediently holds up his fist. “fine.”

three games pass by in a blur.

“you cheated!” he whines, pointing his finger at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“how did i cheat? just admit you suck ass, mr. couch.” your triumphant smile results in another whine from the loser next to you, putting his fist back up for a rematch. “no, i already won!”

“you’re lucky i love you.” beomgyu’s quick to give up, a tiny smile appearing on his face at the way you pretend to gag at his words.

those butterflies in your stomach are only because you skipped breakfast that morning—totally not because of the soft gaze he sends your way, mindlessly playing with the plastic ring on his finger as you two fall into a comfortable silence. totally.

☆

this sucks.

today is the first time you’ve ever ridden in first class, and you can’t even enjoy it because of the exhaustion running rampant through your veins. there’s a reason why you picked all afternoon and late night lectures; why you avoid any invitations to go out for breakfast with your friends; and why you have blackout curtains on all of your windows. you are not a morning person, whatsoever, and with that 8 a.m interview and your flight at 10 on the dot, you’re absolutely beat.

for starters, pretending to actually be in love with your best friend in front of a lady who cannot speak at a normal, human volume is more taxing than swimming from portugal to australia with no breaks. you swear. second, beomgyu has apparently never ridden an airplane before and therefore has no idea what airport etiquette is.

(“you have to put all of your electronics in the bins, okay?”

“when i go through the x-ray thing, will they see my underwear? oh my god, no, will they see my dick?”

“no, they won’t see your dick, beomgyu.”

“but how do you know they won’t see my dick? sick fucks.”

“they’re literally doing their job, beomgyu.”

“they can do their job without looking at my dick!”

“they aren’t going to see your dick!”

the lady in front of you covers her kid's ears as she shoots you two the nastiest glare you’ve ever seen. you both bow in apology before you flick beomgyu on the back of his neck.)

you can barely keep your eyes open as you watch some marvel movie on the little screen in front of you, fighting to at least stay awake long enough to order dinner. it’s futile, though, because you’re already blacking out every few minutes, head lulling side to side like a bobblehead.

you finally give up the battle, reminding yourself that there will be endless food at the resort, so you settle yourself into your plush seat, resting your cheek against your neck pillow. from this angle, you have a perfect view of beomgyu who’s in the secluded seat next to you, and—oh.

he looks… he looks softer than usual, only illuminated by the natural light emerging through the circular windows. his hair is slightly mussed from his fingers, his long fringe hanging over his eyes in such a way that he has to keep shaking it out of his vision. he has his earbuds in, watching the sky through the tiny window next to him with his bottom lip in between his teeth—a habit he’s had since he was young. you know he’s thinking, lost in his mind abyss by the way his fingers fidget with the end of his shirt, his leg shaking incessantly.

“hey, gyu,” you call out quietly so as to not disturb anyone else around you. his music must’ve been turned down low, seeing as his eyes find yours at the call of his name, taking an earbud out to hear you better. “you okay?”

if there’s one thing you know about your best friend, it’s when he’s nervous. it shows with the way his leg doesn’t stop moving, even as he nods out a yes in reply to your question, seeing his jaw move as he grinds his teeth together.

“the plane keeps shaking,” he whispers, eyes wide and worried as a little bit of turbulence rocks the cabin right after he finishes speaking. even in your tired state, you can’t help but laugh softly at his animated expression, shaking your head.

“are you scared?” the teasing tone in your voice is apparent—beomgyu rapidly shakes his head in disagreement, but you see right through him as his hand grips the armrest, eyebrows knitted together. everything in your nature tells you to tease him, rile him up a bit, poke fun at him—but he genuinely looks concerned, and you’re too tired to come up with anything witty to say. instead…

“it’s just turbulence. you’re okay, gyu.”

you watch the way beomgyu relaxes ever so slightly, nodding his head as his grip loosens. you send him a little smile, not bothering to wait for him to smile back before turning your head the other way, finally letting sleep pull you under.

[FREE MARGARITAS.]

you don’t get a single moment to look around the resort because as soon as you both lug all of your things into your suite, you’re told a romantic, candle-lit dinner on the beach just down the hill has been reserved for you two as a welcome gift by the company. you’re not complaining of course, but you still would’ve liked to at least get acquainted with the area before indulging in everything.

it takes you an hour and a half to get ready; partially because beomgyu’s showers take forever. he’s in there singing along to some random 70s hits playlist, having the time of his life, while you take the time to look around the suite.

it’s huge, to say the least. a single pod building that sits on a hill full of others alike with pristine white walls and elegant decoration—it’s almost 3 times bigger than your own apartment and you can only imagine how much all of this would’ve cost. wide, open windows line the walls with marbled tile underneath your feet, the furniture ranging from white to beige to a palette of blues, mimicking the colors of the beach in the distance.

outside is a wide patio with a glistening pool and comfy lounge area, complete with a loveseat and a swing. it has the perfect view of the coast, the sun already lowering behind the horizon. it’s absolutely breathtaking, and you make sure to take plenty of pictures, even posting a few on your instagram story (without tagging beomgyu, because you’re pissed at how long he’s taking in the bathroom.)

by the time he comes out, his hair is blow-dried and pushed out of his face with a headband. he looks like casper the friendly ghost with the white facemask he adorns and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

you force yourself to dismiss the way he only has a towel wrapped around his waist, chest completely bare as he strides over to his suitcase—he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence as he pulls out the most formal thing he can find, dropping it onto the bed.

“you gonna shower or what?” he asks over his annoyingly broad shoulder, hands reaching down to undo the towel around his waist. a yelp leaves your lips at the sudden movement, covering your eyes as you rush towards the bathroom.

“you’re disgusting!” you yell before slamming the door shut, locking it for good measure. his cackles ring throughout the suite and you flick him off from behind the wall—he can’t see it, but you want to at least get it out of your system.

halfway through your shower, you realize you forgot to bring your clothes into the bathroom to change. you blame this all on beomgyu—half because somehow every inconvenience in your life is all his fault and half because you just want a reason to ignore the way you keep thinking about how toned he’s gotten recently. you mentally make it your mission to shut down every single gym in his vicinity.

you wrap your towel tight around your body before cracking the door open, the cool air from the a/c attacking your skin like icicles. poking your head out, you scan the room for any sign of your counterpart, but the room seems to be completely empty. you wait a few seconds, just in case he decides to make any unannounced appearances before deeming the room safe enough to enter. the coast is clear.

you rush over to your suite case, unzipping it to find an appropriate dress, deciding on a white one to match the white button-up beomgyu had pulled out. you grab your makeup bag, as well as your perfume and it isn’t until you stand back up to find refuge in the bathroom that you notice the figure in the doorway. you jump in surprise, a small scream escaping your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself defensively.

“you fucking stalker,” you huff as he doubles over in laughter.

“oh my god, you should’ve seen your face,” he gasps, holding his hand to his stomach as his entire body vibrates with cackles. despite the venomous glare you send his way, your eyes can’t help but catch onto the fact that beomgyu cleans up nicely.

you’ve gotten so used to beomgyu’s endless collection of sweatpants and hoodies that the thought of him looking like an a-list celebrity never once crossed your mind. the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest, appropriately decorated with a few layered necklaces. it seems like he decided to trade out his usual dangly earrings and ear piercings for simple studs that shine when the chandelier above you hits them.

those black dress pants hug his legs in a way that makes you swallow, feeling your body grow warm at the way he tucks his hands into his pockets. he cocks his head at you curiously, a jesting smile on his lips—he looks infuriatingly good, to the point where you have to physically rip your eyes away from him.

“like what you see?” he badgers while he strolls into the room, as if he can see right through your little facade. you scoff, holding your stuff tight to your chest as you flee towards the bathroom again.

“what happened to privacy?” you make sure to completely ignore his previous question—he can tell all too easily when you’re lying, and you really don’t feel like being teased relentlessly tonight.

“what’s the issue? you’re my wife now, aren’t you?” his voice is provoking, playful as you burn through him with another intense glare.

“beomgyu, i promise you, i will drown you in that pool if you say another word.” and then you happily slam the door shut in his face.

“no, you won’t! you love me too much,” he singsongs from behind the door. all you can do is roll your eyes because—yes. yes, you do.

☆

you don’t think you’ve ever seen beomgyu act so… gentlemanly ever since he tried to get his 6th grade crush to like him back—but this time, without the weird phrases he stole from western movies and the electric blue braces that lined his teeth.

he’s committed to this husband act; pulling your chair out for you and pushing you in after you take a seat, kissing the back of your hand (you kicked him under the table at that), and even telling you that you look, and you quote, “absolutely stunning, baby.”

you hope your discontentment isn’t showing too obviously through your forced smiles and giggles, that plastic wedding band around your ring finger uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

you can’t deny the fact that the dinner is really nice, though. never in your life would you have thought you’d be drinking expensive wines and eating 5-star cuisine on a beach with your childhood best friend—you’re pretty sure 14-year-old y/n would’ve complained about how it should’ve been choi soobin from 4th period instead of beomgyu, but you’ll take what you can get.

in all honesty, it simply feels like a normal dinner out with your best friend. you both still laugh and joke as usual, reminiscing on the time when beomgyu forgot to take out his retainer before his band performed at the school festival in 10th grade, resulting in a slurred rendition of sk8er boi by avril lavigne and a crowd full of giggling onlookers. (if you had to threaten a few people to leave beomgyu alone about it afterward, then so be it.)

the thing is, it’s not hard to let go around beomgyu. you’ve known each other since you were in diapers; defending beomgyu from bullies in elementary, attending all of his self-made band’s concerts, and hanging out on your rooftop eating popsicles and gummy worms. you could complain all you’d like about his teasing, his constant, exuberated nature, and his inane questions, but there’s no one else that you’d put your life on the line for, other than the puppy-like man in front of you.

his eyes sparkle with the reflection of the candlelight as he rambles on about how he genuinely thought planes did a loopty-loop before taking off and your heart aches with a sort of warmth you’ve been trying to dismiss for so long.

the dinner ends all too quickly, and by the time you down your last glass, you realize you’re slightly tipsy. you’ve always been a lightweight, but you really didn’t think you drank that much—you must’ve been too distracted by beomgyu’s crazy stories to acknowledge the waiter constantly filling your glass after every few sips. at least it was free.

you slightly wobble on your heels as you take a stand in the sand, a little noise of surprise leaving your lips as a warm hand meets your hip, swiftly steadying you. you look down and automatically recognize the amazon ring, your head turning to meet beomgyu’s gentle eyes.

“don’t tell me i have to carry you all the way back.” and even though it’s a joke, there’s a layer of genuineness in his tone as you stumble again.

“‘m not that drunk,” you reply with the slightest of slurs, quietly giggling at the simple image of beomgyu carrying you bridal style to the bed. now that would truly sell the act, for sure. beomgyu shakes his head with a small smile, but his hand doesn’t leave your waist as he guides you back towards the suite, his touch firm and sturdy.

you’re almost across the beach when you stumble again, but this time, your heel actually gives out as you trip, a tiny yelp leaving your lips right before you hit the ground. you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact—but it never comes.

“yep. i’m carrying you.”

you crack an eye open to see beomgyu with an amused smile on his face, both of his hands holding onto your hips. turns out you weren’t even close to hitting the ground at all… okay, maybe you are drunk.

“piggy back ride?” you ask with a little giggle. you’re reminded of that time beomgyu had to give you a piggyback ride all the way back home from the park after you sprained your ankle trying to do a backflip off of the swing in elementary school. what a time.

beomgyu rolls his eyes fondly, but gives you a little nod, letting go of your waist to kneel down by your feet. “give me your foot.”

you give him a quizzical look, cocking your head at him in pure confusion before he pats his thigh, motioning towards your leg. still a bit out of it, you hold onto his shoulder as you lift your foot, feeling a weird sensation rush up your spine at the way he gently holds onto your calf to slip your heel off of your foot. he does the same to the other without a word, completely unfazed by the way your mouth remains slightly ajar in shock. his fingers are gentle and soothing against your skin, despite being mildly calloused from his guitar back home.

it’s enough to throw you off, swallowing as his eyes meet yours again. his eyes are incredibly soft as he smiles up at you—he motions towards his back with a quiet “hop on”.

you obey, only faltering slightly as your arms sling around his shoulders. with the new proximity, you can smell his cologne, something sweet and woodsy. his hands grab onto your thighs—one decorated with high heels hanging off two of his fingers—before hiking you up a bit. he begins walking, saying something about how he thinks there’s 10 tons of sand in his shoes by now—and if he notices you’re too distracted by his hands on your legs to process what he’s saying, he doesn’t mention it.

☆

the view is absolutely breathtaking through the glass tall windows of your suite, the rays bouncing off of the pool as you watch beomgyu wade in the water, his eyes shut. it’s weird seeing him like this—fully relaxed, calm, and still.

it seems like ever since you met beomgyu, all chubby-cheeked and busy-bodied, he’s always been on the move. whether it be to sprint down the road to meet you at the corner so you can walk to school together, or high in the air as he jumps on your trampoline… and even when his body is physically still, his mouth still runs a mile a minute, talking about anything and everything in the entire universe, letting his thoughts run wild around you.

as much as you truly do adore his silly side, him being the main reason why you were able to break out of your shell in the first place, you can’t help but be slightly fascinated with this alternate side of him.

it’s morning now; the yellowish-white hue of the blinding sun bounces off of his skin as he soaks up the moment, his brown hair getting so long it falls down the back of his neck in soft layers. you feel like a creep, watching him like this, but something about the entire atmosphere makes your eyes unable to look away as you slowly sip on the complimentary margaritas.

your best friend has always been attractive—that’s one thing you cannot deny. he’s had his fair share of flings, and partners (and even a throuple once) throughout the years while you’ve only endured a few situationships here and there. he’s been called handsome his entire childhood and well into his adult years, taking the compliment in stride. he never let it get to his head or fuel his ego, though; for some reason, that fact makes him even more appealing.

he’s always just been your best friend, and you both are incredibly okay with that label—you know each other best, and that’s all that really matters. never mind the way his eyelashes flutter like monarch butterflies, or the way his cheeks flush when it’s too cold outside, or the way his leg bounces when he’s excited or nervous, alike. you try to ignore the way his laughter always manages to make the sun come out, and the way he always orders for you at restaurants because he knows you aren’t a fan of talking to strangers, and the way he seems always to know what you need, right when you need it.

he’s truly the yin to your yang. but there’s something else bubbling under the surface that you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to acknowledge yet.

a loud call of your name grabs your attention, your vision focusing on a grinning beomgyu waving you down from the edge of the pool. you don’t even have it in you to huff at the prospect of moving from your comfortable lounge chair, standing up to make your way to the large patio. sliding the door open, you poke your head out, immediately feeling the muggy air of midday wrap around you like a heated blanket.

“get in with me! the water is super warm,” he calls, motioning you towards him with his arm, the action flicking water everywhere. you frown a bit, looking at the pool behind him before meeting his eager eyes again.

“you know i can’t swim, idiot.”

beomgyu’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as he shrugs, holding his hand out.

“then i’ll do the swimming for you.”

the offer is so light-hearted and casual—it shouldn’t make your heart lunge in your chest, your gut twisting with anticipation at the simple implications of his words.

you’re already in your bathing suit from the mirror selfies you took for simply the aesthetic—a simple blue bikini tied tightly around your frame. you really don’t want to waste your time here; when else will you get the chance to stay in greece for free with your best friend?

so you let your feet carry you to the stairs of the pool, your fingers wrapping around the metal railing as you slowly step in, foot by foot. by the time you’ve made it waist deep, you begin to feel the fear creep into your bones.

“i won’t let you drown, y/n,” beomgyu laughs as you suspiciously eye the deep end of the pool, unable to even see the bottom of it. your hand tightly grips the rail as beomgyu wades his way toward you, holding his hand out for you to take. “i promise. just hold on to me.”

you nibble on your lip as your eyes flicker down to his hand, feeling the water move gently around you. drowning has always been one of your biggest fears, and because of that, you’ve always stayed far away from any body of water capable of swallowing you up whole.

but beomgyu’s eyes are warmer than the water, the most delicate of smiles resting on his soft features. there’s no room to be scared—not with the way his hand is so grounding as you take hold of it, squealing a bit as he tugs you closer.

“do you trust me?” and when he speaks, his voice is just barely above a whisper, his face so close to yours that you can individually count his eyelashes. his margarita-tinted breath fans over your lips and you find yourself unable to cringe away, nodding cautiously in response.

your hands tightly grasp his shoulders as he wraps a strong arm around your waist, holding you close to him as he uses his other arm to swim deeper into the pool. his doesn’t let up, even slightly, his grip sturdy around your figure as he utilizes one arm to keep you both afloat.

“here, wrap your legs around me,” he speaks, tapping your thigh under the water. you’re sure your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline, your mouth bobbing open and shut like a fish out of water.

“wha… huh?” you question oh, so eloquently, the rumble of beomgyu’s laughter transferring against your skin. his nose crinkles up in the way it always does when he finds something to be a bit too entertaining, his eyes forming those pretty crescent moons as his eyelashes tickle his cheeks.

“it’ll make this easier. i’m not trying to carry a dead weight,” beomgyu speaks as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. you’re still dumbfounded, blinking at him blankly—so he decides to take matters into his own hands, reaching down to situate you against him by himself. “there, that’s better.”

a persistent heat surges through your stomach as your brain slowly registers the position. beomgyu’s arm tightens around your waist as you adjust your hips in a way that makes your clothed core brush against his bulge. you almost see the way his eyes darken, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his bottom lip. it’s quiet, still as the distant sound of the beach’s waves and the gentle trickle of water fills in the silence.

your arms slowly come up to wrap around his neck—you don’t know what possesses you; some weird entity that makes beomgyu’s lips look all too kissable, and his eyes sickeningly alluring. his adam’s apple bobs as his eyes flicker across your face. you don’t register the way he slowly wades you both toward the wall of the pool, effectively caging you in as your back gently presses against the tile.

you have the chance to run, to push him off of you, and go back inside—to pretend your core doesn’t pulse with want as he presses his entire body against you. his chest is warm and his eyes are blown out, and you can say no.

but you don’t want to.

his eyes search yours for something before they trail down to your lips, his hips meeting yours in a way that renders you slightly dizzy with the proximity.

“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop, right now,” he whispers, his fingers leaving a ticklish feeling against your exposed skin under the water. you swallow.

“i want this, please.” and his lips are on yours before you can take another breath.

it’s nothing gentle; as if he’s been starved for your taste for all of eternity. the kiss is bruising as he nibbles on your bottom lip, his tongue meeting yours as you gasp into his mouth. he takes control easily, his hips moving against yours as the water moves around you, the sound mixing in with your quiet moans and beomgyu’s sparse grunts.

he swallows all of your sounds, holding you down against him as he bucks up into your core, his dick hard and heavy in between your legs. you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist as you match his movement to the best of your ability. you’re nearly unable to think straight as he kisses the oxygen out of you, your mind growing hazy as pleasure shoots up your spine when he rubs against your clit just right.

beomgyu breaks the kiss to dive into your neck, sucking and biting small marks onto your unblemished skin before kissing over the soon-to-be marks. he can’t keep his mouth off of you as he trails his lips under your jaw, over your clavicle, nipping at your cleavage. your own voice sounds foreign in your ears as every lick and bite shoots straight to your core, feeling that knot in your gut tightens with every thrust.

“think you can cum just like this, hm? just from humping my cock?” beomgyu pants against your skin as his lips brush over your cheek, his breath fanning your ears. the head of beomgyu’s clothed dick catches onto your slit for the slightest of seconds, and you have to clench all of the muscles in your body to not cum on the spot.

“ye—yes, please don’t stop,” you whine, tilting your head back to invite his lips back to your neck. you’re sure you’re leaving marks on beomgyu’s shoulder blades from how hard your nails dig into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, it makes his hips work faster against yours, pressing you full-on against the pool walls.

“so good for me, fuck.”

beomgyu kisses up your neck, a low groan leaving his lips at the way you’re bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat, clawing at his skin as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“gyu, ‘m—can i cum? please, please, please.” you can’t hold on anymore—not with the way beomgyu laughs against your skin, his free hand reaching up to grab your chin, forcing your lips against his again. he licks into your mouth with fervor, your teeth clashing together. your spit-slicked lips slide against each other, wet and messy, and he finally decides to take pity on you.

“go ahead, cum for me, baby.”

your brain goes blank as you finally come undone, blindly sinking into beomgyu’s lips and his faltering thrusts. your entire body tenses up as you moan against his lips, feeling like a ragdoll in the way he leaves soft kisses against your lax mouth. a low, rumbling groan emits from his chest as his hips still, twitching against yours subtly. he exhales once he finally pulls away from your swollen lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

it takes a second for you both to catch your breaths and when you finally blink your eyes open, beomgyu’s puppy-like eyes are already on yours.

“you okay?” his voice oozes with a type of concern; care that feels all too intimate. his pupils are blown wide, alluring and deep as they scan your face. you nod with a small sigh, leaning forward to drop your head onto his shoulder. you feel his torso shake with a chuckle at the action, feeling an unnamed emotion run through your chest.

you don’t pay any mind to it, though. not while you're ruminating in a cum-contaminated body of water.

“we should probably call someone to clean the pool.” and the laughter that bubbles out of beomgyu’s mouth is enough to distract you, just for a moment.

[I DO.]

it’s a weird, strange domestic feeling waking up to a fluffy head of brown hair resting on your shoulder, caged in by gentle arms around your waist. beomgyu’s always been a cuddler, and a week ago, you would’ve cringed at the simple thought of indulging him.

but now, a warm feeling blooms in your chest like a hydrangea as your fingers slip into his mussed hair to play with the strands. you’ve been cowed by your emotions, unable to fight off the fond smile that climbs onto your lips at the sight of the teddy bear-esque man clinging to you in his sleep.

you don’t know what to do with all of these butterflies swarming in your chest, flapping against each other, kicking up a sandstorm of admiration that runs wild through your veins. he’s your best friend—and at this point in time, you know he’s more than that.

it’s crazy to think that romantic feelings can accumulate overnight, and you’re starting to suspect that maybe these feelings have existed all along. he’s the only one capable of rendering you speechless, whether it be from the crazy things he says or the way his eyes sparkle with a sense of youthfulness that tethers you two together. he’s the only one who can make you feel so carefree and in the moment—you don’t worry about the future or what’s to come with beomgyu. you simply enjoy the now, soaking up his blinding smiles and outlandish stories.

he’s waking up, you realize, as he mumbles under his breath, nuzzling closer to you. his lips brush your neck, his hair tickling your cheek in a way that makes your nose scrunch up with a small giggle. you feel drunk despite the fact that all of the alcohol has long dispersed in your body overnight—you blame it all on the fact that the sun sits high in the sky, shining kindly through the wide, open windows. it lights beomgyu up in a way that squeezes your heart painfully, the white sheets strewn across his waist making him look so soft and gentle.

“good morning,” you mumble with a tiny smile as beomgyu begins littering faint kisses against the expanse of your neck, brushing over the previous marks he’d left there yesterday. he simply hums in response, his arms loosening from around your waist to trail up the side of your body—his touch is so delicate, you let yourself get lost in the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he softly nips at your skin.

he situates himself so that he’s hovering over you and you open your eyes again, feeling the sudden urge to shy away from his gaze. you’ve never seen such a look in his eyes—something so heavy and raw. as if he’s prying you apart and putting you back together again. it makes a shiver run up your spine.

“good morning, beautiful,” he finally replies and you can’t help but giggle again—you feel like a teenager, the way your stomach flutters at his morning voice, all deep and raspy and sultry. his brown eyes are half-lidded from sleep, his skin warm as his fingers brush your cheek.

the tension in the air isn’t incredibly prominent—it still lingers but with a less demanding presence. it’s natural and easy in the way it always is with beomgyu. existing with beomgyu is just so uncomplicated.

you feel yourself melt into the sheets as he presses closer, molding himself into you perfectly—as if he was destined to be right here all along. his nose brushes yours as he leans in, and when his lips touch yours, any thoughts clouding your mind immediately disperse, making room for the sun itself. your arms come up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, feeling his heartbeat against yours. you feel safe, lax, content; all things good in the world.

his lips are unrushed as they move against yours, silently speaking a thousand words as he cups the side of your face, his hips subtly moving against yours. you sigh into his mouth, tilting your head to deepen the kiss—you don’t care about morning breath or the fact that you probably look a mess with your ridden-up shirt and tired eyes. and beomgyu doesn’t care either, licking into your mouth as if you’re a rare delicacy, grinding down against your thin panties.

he’s half-hard in his pants, desperately rubbing against you to chase whatever pleasure he can get. it’s endearing almost, the way he moans into your mouth as you reach down to slip your fingers past his waistband to trail a light touch over his dick. his voice is deeper than normal, stirring something inside of you that makes your legs clamp around his hips.

“i want you, gyu,” you breathe out once his lips finally leave yours, pumping him slowly. his lips catch in between his teeth as your fingers run over the head of his dick, feeling your fingers coat with sticky precum.

“hm? gotta be more specific than that, gorgeous,” beomgyu teases despite the way he’s slowly thrusting into your hand, smiling down at you in a way that usually would’ve pissed you off—but right now, it only makes your pussy drip with want.

“i want you inside of me. want you to fill me up,” you whine out as his fingers rub your clit over your panties, moving lower to press against your damp entrance. his resolve crumbles all too quickly as you peer up at him with your doe eyes, lips parted as you whine softly, moving your hips against his fingers.

“fuck, okay baby.”

you let him move away to strip himself of his sparse clothing as you pull your shirt over your head. the butterflies return quickly as you realize this is the first time you’re seeing each other completely unclothed and—oh god. he’s huge. your half-asleep state didn’t realize the sheer amount of dick between your fingers, but now that you’re seeing it in the morning light, you aren’t even sure if it’ll fit.

beomgyu makes his way back over to you, his fingers hooking onto the band of your panties to drag them down your legs. his eyes are almost predatory as he takes in your glistening folds, unable to stop himself from running his fingers over your cunt, collecting your juices.

“you’re dripping,” he awes, his eyes flickering up to yours with a small smile. a heat rushes up your neck, shyly covering your face with both of your hands. beomgyu’s small laugh resonates throughout the room, feeling his clean hand come up to gently move your arms away.

when you meet his eyes again, they’re filled with a sort of fondness that makes your head spin, makes your heart stutter—it’s horrible and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips as his fingers return to your cunt, slightly dipping into your hole, soaking them even more.

“i want you to look at me. can you do that?” beomgyu gently requests and you’re nodding before you can fully register his words. he flashes you a proud smile before he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean of your juices. an airy, surprised moan leaves your body against your will at the sight, and his smile broadens. “you taste amazing, baby.”

his middle finger enters your entrance with no resistance, and you feel yourself clench down as he curls it upwards to gently explore your walls. it’s all too much and not enough all at once. he’s going incredibly slow, as if you two have all the time in the world, but you can’t wait. you need him now.

“please, just fuck me. ‘m ready,” you demand through a whine, pleading with your eyes, an action that effectively softens beomgyu's gaze. he doesn’t remove his finger, but instead adds another alongside it, his thumb coming to brush against your clit. you buck against his hand with a small moan as he moves up your body, trailing kisses from your hipbone, to your breasts, and finally your lips.

it’s a chaste peck, but it’s enough to leave you wanting more, chasing after his lips once he pulls back. you whine at the loss, already feeling your brain turn to mush with the way his fingers slowly drag against the walls of your cunt, his thumb just barely applying pressure to your swollen nub.

“are you sure?”

“yes, yes, ‘m sure. want your cock, gyu. just—” you’re nearly hysterical as your hips grind down on his fingers. you can already feel the frustrated tears brimming your eyelashes, reaching up to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his. “please, please…”

“shh. it’s okay, baby,” beomgyu coos, pressing a few soft kisses to your lips. you quietly gasp as he removes his fingers from your hole. he kisses your cheeks all too delicately, his forearm resting by your head to steady himself. “i’ll take care of you. just relax.”

you almost cry happy tears with the way you feel the head of his cock tease your hole, dipping in but not fully entering. his lips find yours again as he drags his dick in between your sopping folds, swallowing his low moan at the feeling. “my perfect girl. so pretty, so wet for me.”

when he pushes in, your arms tighten around his neck, your enter body locking up at the intrusion. you feel like a virgin again, his girth stretching you open almost uncomfortably. his thumb rubs your hips to soothe you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss to distract you from the feeling. he stops for a second, letting you get used to his dick as he peppers kisses across your face.

“fuck, it feels like you’re splitting me in half,” you blurt out and beomgyu can’t help but laugh softly, his forehead resting against yours. “i think i can feel you in my throat.”

“can you stop making me laugh so i can fuck you stupid, please?”

his words are lighthearted, but the thought of being fucked to the point where you can’t even speak has you shutting up in no time. you whine quietly as beomgyu continues pushing into you until he’s fully situated inside of your cunt—you’re fluttering around him like crazy, feeling the faint pain slowly dispersing into pleasure as he kisses your jaw.

“you can move now,” you mumble, and beomgyu wastes no time pulling out, almost all the way, just to snap his cock back into you with a force that rocks the bed slightly. you can’t cover up the choked-out gasp that leaves your lips, eventually turning into a stream of moans and whines as he quickly sets a brutal pace.

his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, your mind clouding over as pleasure fills your bloodstream, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. he places one last kiss on your lips before sitting up, both of his hands moving wrapping around your thighs. you’re so wet that his dick easily glides in and out of you, wet, squelching sounds filling the room as you drip around him.

“you’re so tight, god. letting me fuck you raw like the needy slut you are,” he chastizes, groaning as he pulls your body in to meet his hips. his strokes are so deep, you already feel yourself nearing your high.

“yes, yes, yes. need you,” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets. “so big, gyu. ‘s too much, i can’t—”

“you were the one crying for my cock, so you better take it.” his sudden demeanor change sends a tingly rush up your spine, leaving your brain a muddled mess. his bangs have fallen into his eyes, his cheekbones flushed with a slight pink from the physical exertion and the warmth of the sun beaming through the windows. his stomach contracts with every thrust into your wet heat, low moans and sharp gasps leaving his lips as his eyes fall shut, his head lolling back at the feeling.

your core throbs, gut tightening with every passing moment—at some point, he brings his fingers down to circle your clit, whimpers leaving your mouth at the overwhelming feeling of it all. you clench down around him, hand stretching out for something, anything; and it only takes a few seconds for beomgyu to notice. his fingers interlace with yours, giving your hand a grounding squeeze.

“gonna fill you up—gonna make a mess of this pretty pussy,” beomgyu pants out, a low moan leaving his lips as his hips slightly stutter.

“‘m gonna cum, gyu, ‘m cumming,” you babble out, your head rolling to the side as your eyes shut, the immense pleasure coursing through your body becoming all too much. somewhere through your muffled ears, you hear beomgyu praising you for taking him so well, but by that point, you’re already gone.

the moan that leaves your lips is nearly pornagraphic, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your orgasm washes over you. all the air is punched out of your lungs and beomgyu thrusts deep into you before settling there, a low groan leaving his lips as his dick twitches inside of you.

“fuck, baby, i love you. i love you so much,” he breathes out as he cums—you feel the hot streaks of his cum painting your insides, shooting places you weren’t even sure existed inside of you. it leaves your mind hazy, unable to even process the way he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you and onto the white sheets.

the feeling of a hot, wet tongue against your entrance makes your hips buck up—you let out a surprised gasp that’s quickly overtaken by a whimper, your hand reaching to entangle itself in his hair.

“wait, gyu—fuck, i’m sensitive,” you whine, feeling your eyes brim with tears at the overstimulation. his tongue flicks against your abused cunt as he cleans up his own cum, fucking it back into you with his tongue.

“you can take it, baby. i know you can,” he pants against your pussy before his lips encircle your clit, sucking and nibbling ever so slightly. you can’t control the noise leaving your lips, whining and moaning as your legs clamp around his head. beomgyu simply chuckles against you before two of his fingers enter your pussy, teasing and prodding at your sentive walls.

“gyu, i can’t, i can’t…” you sob, tears running down your cheeks as the overstimulation sends painful shocks up your spine. you’re gushing around his tongue, the sheets beneath you completely soaked through. your brain fights against itself, your body unsure of whether to press closer or pull away. you can’t think about anything other than beomgyu’s fingers and mouth, eyes squeezed shut as your body racks with sobs.

“yes, you can. cum on my tongue, pretty girl.”

and you do, your back arching as you moan loudly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as your hips frot against his face, waves of pleasure washing over you, drowning you. your entire body trembles with shocks as your mind goes blank, flopping back onto the bed as you attempt to catch your breath. tears are still running down your cheeks—your entire body feels like it’s floating. you’re completely wrung out. that was probably the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

you don’t even register beomgyu’s soft hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears away, his lips pressing against your forehead, your nose; anywhere his lips can reach. it’s grounding as you slowly come back down to earth.

“you did so well for me, baby. so, so perfect. so beautiful. you took it all, i’m so proud of you.”

you blink your eyes open at his words, feeling those butterflies flock with the way he’s watching you so attentively, his eyes flitting across your face quickly.

“i didn’t go too far, did i?” beomgyu’s voice is almost nervous, low and quiet in your ear as he strokes the side of your face. you crack a small smile at how cute he looks, reaching up to brush some of the hair out of his eyes.

“no, not at all. i liked it,” you reassure, your fingers trailing down his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. he visibly melts into your touch at the words, shoulders slumping in relief.

“thank god,” he breathes out, slumping on top of you—you half-heartedly protest, but the weight is nice, loving the way it feels to have his chest rise and fall against yours, his head resting in the crook your neck. you wrap your arms around him with a little giggle, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“you big baby,” you tease. he’s completely unbothered, though, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder before settling against you again.

“only around you.”

the quiet is relaxing, hearing the calm waves of the beach down the hill and the slight buzz of the air conditioner. as much as your brain wants to believe that you imagined it, his words from a few moments ago ring like a mantra in your head. words that make your chest tight, and your mind spin, and your stomach flutter. having him in your arms like this makes you sure that what you heard wasn’t made up in your mind.

“you said you love me.”

a beat of silence.

“hm?” he hums inquisitively as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.

“when you, um—when you… came…” you whisper the last part, feeling the vibrations of beomgyu’s laugh fill your own chest.

“you’re still shy after all of that?” beomgyu asks incredulously as he lifts his head to look at you. a tiny, playful smile sits on his lips and you pout, nudging him softly.

“stop changing the topic!” beomgyu laughs again as he relaxes back into your hold.

“okay, i did say i love you. because i do. i love you.”

the words hit you deeper this time, now that your mind is clear—he sounds so sure of himself, and the confidence seeps into you, confirming your own feelings that have been threatening to spill over these last few days.

“i love you too.” you pause for a second. “ like, love love you.”

beomgyu chuckles against your skin, his arms tightening around your frame as he nuzzles in closer to you, despite already being skin to skin. he’s cute, you think.

“i’d hope ‘love love’ is what we’re talking about right now,” he speaks almost sarcastically and you lightly tug his hair for being a smartass—you get the opposite reaction you were searching for though because beomgyu dramatically moans at the action just to rile you up even more.

“oh my god, you’re insufferable,” you huff, but the smile on your face is telling enough as he lifts his head once again to meet your eyes—his hair is all messy and strewn about, lips bitten red and raw, cheeks flushed; and that fact that you’re in love with your best friend full sinks in. he’s everything to you.

“but you love me.”

you sigh.

“yea. i do.”

a blinding smile breaks out on beomgyu’s lips as he leans in to peck yours a few times, your body melting as he kisses you with so many emotions, it makes your heart get caught in your throat, your skin buzzing with contentment.

he pulls away, sitting up to climb off the bed, searching for his sweatpants.

“come on. time for me to do my husband duties and run you a bath.”

“you’re still comitting to this, huh?” you giggle as you sit up too, watching his figure retreat towards the bathroom. beomgyu turns slightly, the smile on his lips absolutely menacing.

“so? i gotta practice for the future.”

your future, you brain tells you.

and that idea isn't so bad, you think.

reblogs and feedback are highly cherished!

tags! @grayscorner @banggyu0308 @huckleberrykai @agustdiv1ne @yunhorights @nes-caf @1921choi

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doe-core · 4 months ago

Text

INFODUMPING ABOUT JOHN DOE<3

Regular guys are fully grown and were never children

His species is a regular guy (hair ball)

He likes burgers

He doesn’t like sweet things, but would eat anything you made him

He prefers bitter stuff

His favorite snack is teeth

His likes include you, teeth, eyes, baby rats, television, and static

His dislikes are under stimulation, being alone, “That Guy”, You ignoring him, and baths

He is afraid of water (reason being that regular guys have to swim through large bodies of water in order to escape the motherball which causes a fear of water in a lot of regular guys)

Doe nearly drowned in the river when escaping the motherball, which is why he’s afraid of water

Regular guys don’t need to take baths. If their fake body needs to be cleaned, they will simply eat it and reform it again!!

His fake body will melt if it touches water, but his actual body (hair ball) won’t die, it will just be very painful and traumatic

He feels through his hair which means that he doesn’t like combing his hair, tieing it up, and cutting his hair is the equivalent to cutting off limb

He has many teeth

He has the power to manipulate reality and get “You” to say and do anything he wants, as shown in ending 4 “Yes”

He is gender-fluid, bisexual and goes by any pronouns. “His gender is just as mysterious as he is!!”

He has no organs or bones, but he can create them if you wish!

He eats materials to make up his fake body. Harder materials lead to a harder form, as softer materials make his body softer. His form also can freeze in extreme cold and melt in extreme heat

He is around 20-40 years old (Regular guys are already grown when made)

Regular guys produce asexually

They are classified as pests due to how fast they spread

Doe’s IQ is slightly higher than the average in uncanny valley, but slightly lower in the human realm

Doe’s scars are not due to him being “sad”, they are a kink/reminder

The reason he can feel is because strands of hair are spread throughout his body

His hairball form is 2 ft tall

Cartoon physics apply to him and he is described to move like a claymation figure

His voice claim is Weird Al and Fox (the creator) stated that “his voice sounds like when someone is talking to you in a dream and you forget how it sounded”

He states that creating 2 eyes is difficult and it can cause him to have blurred vision, but “he will do it if you think it will make him perfect”

Even though he is a sexually active adult, that is not his main goal. He strives for genuine connections and affection

His shirt changes based on how he’s feeling and it can say words or have pictures!

He doesn’t have pain receptors, so he didnt know that stabbing you in ending 2 would hurt you

He slightly pefers taller and bigger partners because it makes him feel protected, but he will love you no matter what!! He will love you no matter what body type you are!!

He leaves you a gift no matter the ending (ex. even when doe loses interest in ending 3, he still leaves you a parting gift)

He is a sadistic masochist

His interest increases when you choose to not take a shower (he prefers your natural scent)

He also likes to scare you because “you’re cute when you’re scared” :3

If you were to kiss him, he would be very happy and his reality will reflect that!!

Everything about you is appealing to him. EVERYTHING. When he is in love, it is HARD to make him fall out of love, but if you are firm enough with him, he will eventually take the hint.

Doe is a hoarder and is hinted to be very messy. If you had baked him something, (ex. cake, cookies, etc.) he would ether eat it, or keep it in his endless pile of shit <3

Speaking of which, he will most likely lose you in his house :p

He’s not rlly good with comforting people with depression, but he will try his best!! He will give you all the reassurance you need by giving you “gifts”,(i use that word very lightly) affection, and watching tv with you!!

He repeats words to emphasize how he’s feeling!! (ex. “I just love love love you!!”)

He loves the feeling of static from when you lick vintage television (whatever the fuck that means 😭)

Though, he doesn’t need to blink and only blinks when he wants to, when he does blink, it sounds like something else. (ex. car crash, glass breaking, screaming, metal clanking together, etc.)

His birthday is November 35th!! (people celebrate it on the 5th of december!)

He behaves like he’s in a cartoon and can be a little slow… (in a loveable way ofc)

He’s allergic to pollen and certain types of flowers </3

He’s also more prone to abdominal pain and nausea;(

Even though he is odd, he is NOT the creepiest creature in the valley

If doe were an animal, he would be a Bullet Dog or a Bark Cat <3

If you were to die, he wouldn’t notice it right away *_*

Doe likes the classic series!!

If you try to comb his hair, his hair WILL absorb it

He watches you sleep :3

He has no ears ^.^

He can drink anything as thick or thicker than oil or blood!

His favorite colors are bright red and burnt orange

He LOVES insects!!

He has no blood and he is naturally hard as clay

Speaking of clay, he doesn’t smell bad or good, he smells like clay or wet rain.

He feeds birds when he’s lonely in the valley 🥲💕

He can’t cry, but he can melt and whine as if he were crying

He is a demonic entity (good luck, buddy!)

Because regular guys reproduce asexually, he can create a mini doe!!

He has no friends or family (besides you ofc <3)

He’s goth but he doesn’t know it >_<

He is 5’8 :3

He weighs 50 kilograms!! (110lbs)

His skin is uncomfortably warm to the touch

If you ever tried to stab him, the knife would get sucked into him and would reappear in his hand.

He does not taste good! His fake body has no nutritional value and in fact REMOVES nutrition from yours!!

It’s hard for him to close his mouth lol

You meet him in House Hunted 2, then see him in HH 1, then finally in the John Doe game!

Idk if I said this, but his nails are naturally black and his teeth are naturally yellow <3

He doesn’t know how to wear his jacket properly

Idk if this is true, but his scars may represent how many times he’s tried to get with you-

If he got piercings, they would melt into his body within 20 minutes 😭

He can express sadness, but not in the way others can

His voice would probably be really deep in the middle of the game

When it’s his birthday, streamers and balloons randomly appear in his house and he celebrates it with his meat effigy of You!

Although he’s not the most dangerous thing in uncanny valley, he’s very hard to kill.

Things he finds cute: Everything “You” does, when “You” is scared, baby rats before they grow hair, heartbeats, and eye contact <3

His favorite candy would be hard candy (or glass 😭)

His hair is slick and uncomfortably warm

Saying “I love you” is his way of flirting

He’s not mentally ill, it’s just the way he acts

He will talk to you about his favorite shows

If he gets to eat you, he sees it as a bonus <3

If you were upset, he would stare at you, call you cute, and wrap his hair around you

He would never hurt you out of strong negative emotions 🥩🖤

He has many rows of teeth that are just collected teeth to try to mimic a human smile

He would never hurt an animal, but they’re scared of him :(

He pefers eating things raw <3

His tongue looks like a lil heart in his mouth, but it’s very long

Whenever he uses human like materials for his body, he looks a lot older and crusty, so he consumes things like metal to create a cleaner body

He stops smiling when someone makes him mad or upset

He has many outfits, but his main outfit is his favorite

He’s a stalker, but not an insane stalker

He weights about 2.5 pounds in his hairball form

He doesn’t have a belly button

He hates Maison Talo because he gets too close to the MC

regular guys are actually pretty clean and they don’t need to bathe! if his human body does get too dirty, he will eat it and craft it over again, but if his hairball body gets dirty, he can take a dust bath! regular guys usually tend to each others hygienic needs too!

The creator stated that they see doe as "trans in representation," but they want their fanbase to have fun and make him whatever they want him to be!

If doe were on a boat, would he get sea sick? The answer is no, but he would be extremely terrified.

He has no preference for the gender of his partner, so he could be considered Pan or canonically, Bisexual.

John doe can drive! Here’s his license:

#john doe #john doe x reader #john doe game #john doe x you #visual novel #horror #fun facts

178 notes · View notes

reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

Text

Finding Home Again: Part Two

Summary: Spencer and Y/N reconnect again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+), friends to lovers

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, slight angst, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress & makeup, bisexual spencer reid (it's canon to me), boyband reid in mind, the fluffiest fluff you'll ever read

let me know if I missed any

Word count: 25.4k

a/n: she's thick ,, i would write them forever ,, seriously pls request a blurb about them ,, even if you don't i'll probably write them anyway

part one can be found here!!

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), male masturbation, voyerism (Y/N watches Spencer), unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), heavy grinding

It had been years again, and Spencer had yet to reach out. He hadn’t wanted to invade Y/N’s privacy by asking for her number through Adam, or having Penelope find it, despite the fact that he thought about her often. Instead, he kept the note she left tucked safely in one of his books, a reminder of the weekend they spent reconnecting in Napa Valley.

As much as he wanted to reach out, Spencer felt it was best to let Y/N take the lead. He respected her need for space and hoped that she would reach out when she was ready.

Meanwhile, Y/N had returned to her life in Las Vegas, trying to move on from the bittersweet memories of seeing Spencer again. She buried herself in work and spent time with Billie, occasionally checking in with Adam and Elizabeth who are doing absolutely wonderful in their new married life.

In an effort to move on, Y/N entered the dating pool. Being 26 years old at the time, she felt that she should get some experience under her belt. She went on a couple of dead-end first dates, had some second dates that fizzled out, and even the few that did make it to three or more didn’t last as she either got scared and cut them off or they ended it with her.

Just when she was starting to lose hope, she met Alex. Alex was a very nice person, thoughtful and patient, and they hit it off immediately. Y/N felt comfortable around Alex in a way she hadn’t with anyone else, and for the first time, she didn’t feel the urge to run away. They had been casually seeing each other for about four weeks now, and Y/N was surprised at how easy it felt.

—

Years at the Behavioral Analysis Unit had left their mark on Spencer Reid. While he still possessed the same gentle spirit and brilliant mind that Y/N had always admired, he carried with him the weight of experiences that had changed him in profound ways. Spencer had been abducted by an unsub, struggled with drug addiction, been shot on the job, and so much more.

When a case brought Spencer back to Las Vegas, he found himself wondering about Y/N. It had been years since their reunion in Napa Valley, and she lingered in his thoughts.

He had Penelope check if Y/N was still at her old apartment, curiosity tugging at his heart. But when he learned she had moved, he hesitated to ask Penelope to find her new address. The urge to reconnect was strong, yet he respected the boundaries they had wordlessly established.

—

Sunday was shaping up to be another hectic day for the BAU. The team was deep into a complex case, and the need for caffeine was at an all-time high. Derek and Spencer volunteered to make a coffee run for everyone, hoping the fresh air would clear their minds.

As they walked into a charming little cafe, the familiar hum of conversations and the rich aroma of coffee enveloped them. Spencer ran a hand through his hair and scanned the menu, trying to decide on what to order for the team.

Derek nudged him, nodding toward the barista with a playful grin. “Reid, I’ll handle the orders. Why don’t you grab us a table while we wait?”

Spencer nodded, taking a moment to glance around the bustling cafe. As his eyes swept across the room, he froze, his heart stopping.

There, at a corner table, sat Y/N. She looked radiant, her laughter mingling with the soft classical music playing overhead. But she wasn’t alone; sitting across from her was another person, clearly her date.

Spencer felt a lot of emotions surge through him—excitement, surprise, and a hint of something else he couldn’t quite place. He watched as Y/N leaned in to say something to her date, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

“Hey, Pretty Boy, you okay?” Derek’s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

Spencer cleared his throat, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I just... saw someone I know.”

Derek followed Spencer’s gaze and spotted Y/N. A knowing smile spread across his face. “Well, well. Go talk to her, Reid.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He hadn’t seen Y/N since their chance encounter in Napa Valley, and now here she was, right in front of him, living her life. He decided to leave it be, he didn’t feel like being rejected again. Or worse, having a pleasant conversation end with her walking away, again.

Instead, he shook his head and fixed Derek with a look that said, not right now. Together they waited for their coffee and quietly chatted about the case.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts as she chatted with Alex. Her eyes had drifted when she heard his familiar voice. She could have sworn she imagined her date as Spencer Reid because there he was, at a table not even five feet away.

Gone were the glasses and slicked-back hair, now replaced with contacts and curls that framed his face perfectly. His usual cardigan had been traded out for a crisp button-down with the sleeves pushed up, revealing surprisingly toned forearms. The Converse he usually wore were replaced with polished oxfords.

Y/N excused herself and stood up as if possessed by an unseen force, making her way over to his table.

“Spencer...?” she said, disbelief coloring her voice as he looked up.

Derek took notice of the same girl from before, grinning widely. “Yes?”

Spencer playfully hit Derek on the arm, but his laughter was short-lived. “Hi, Y/N,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of distance.

“You cut your hair,” she said, taking in his new look.

“I know,” Spencer replied, a hint of no shit in his smile.

“You look so much older,” Y/N remarked, trying to reconcile the image of the Spencer she knew with the man standing before her.

“Well, four years will do that to a person,” Spencer said, his gaze hardening slightly.

“So will getting shot at,” Derek jested with a mischievous grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “You’ve been shot at??”

“We’re in the FBI, sweetheart. You gonna introduce us, pretty boy?” Derek asked, flashing his charming smile.

Spencer had mentioned Derek to Y/N during their time together in Napa Valley, though they hadn’t been extremely close then. Likewise, he hadn’t told Derek much about Y/N, keeping their relationship mostly to himself.

“Sure. Y/N, this is my partner Derek. Derek, this is an old friend, Y/N,” Spencer introduced them, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were together,” Y/N said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“Aren’t you here with a date, sugar?” Derek teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder to see Alex, who was watching the interaction with mild curiosity. “Oh yeah, yeah, I am.”

Derek chuckled, sensing the underlying tension. “Well, why don’t you get back to them and leave Dr. Reid and me to our business? Hmm?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It was good to see you, Spence.”

“You too, bye Y/N,” Spencer replied, his voice cool even as his heart ached with a bittersweet feeling as she returned to her date.

As Y/N settled back into her seat across from Alex, she couldn’t help but feel a tug at her heart. Seeing Spencer had stirred up emotions she thought she’d buried long ago. She tried to focus on her date, but her mind kept drifting back to Spencer and the unexpected encounter, the way he had seemed different yet so familiar.

She found herself glancing over at Spencer’s table more often than she intended, unable to shake the feeling that something significant had just passed between them. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and longing, and she realized that she wanted him more than she cared to admit.

—

On the walk back to the precinct, Derek finally broke the silence. “Alright, Reid. You wanna tell me what that was about? Who’s the girl?”

Spencer hesitated, then replied, “Her older brother was in my grade. We studied a lot together. I knew her from a distance. It was only a little over a year.”

“C’mon now, I know there’s more. Summer romance, perhaps?” Derek probed with a teasing grin.

Spencer snorted. “No, nothing like that. We were twelve.”

“You’re killing me, dude. It can’t be that bad, just tell me.” He said, throwing his friend a tired look.

“Alright, alright,” Spencer said, relenting as he recapped the wedding.

“I got an invitation to her brother Adam's wedding," Spencer began, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "He was always kind to me in high school, so I felt like I should go, even though I was nervous about seeing everyone again."

Derek nodded, listening intently as Spencer continued.

"I hadn't seen Y/N in years, and I didn’t know if I'd see her. Her brother booked the room arrangements, and there was a mix-up.”

Spencer paused, recalling the awkward but unexpectedly comforting encounter. "Y/N and I ended up sharing a room because there were no other available ones. It was unexpected, but we managed to reconnect."

“What was it like seeing her again?” Derek asked, intrigued.

“It was surreal," Spencer admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. "She was different, but the same. We spent time reminiscing about our childhood, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed. She was funny, charming, and... she really made me feel like I belonged there."

Derek chuckled. "Sounds like you two hit it off."

"Yeah, we did," Spencer replied, his expression turning somber. "But then it got complicated. We spent the weekend together, talking and laughing, but when it came time to really confront what was happening between us, she left without saying goodbye. She left me a note explaining that she wasn't ready for anything more."

“Oh shit, man… and you haven’t talked to her since?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t want to get rejected again,” Spencer admitted, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. “She clearly didn’t know what she wanted.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek said thoughtfully, rubbing his stubble. “That makes sense. From that alone, she sounds pretty wishy-washy.”

“Mhm, drove me crazy,” Spencer confessed, shaking his head.

“In a good way?” Derek asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“In every way,” Spencer replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“You gonna see her again while we’re here?” Derek pressed, curious about Spencer’s next move.

“Not sure. She’s seeing someone,” Spencer said, a trace of dismissiveness in his tone.

“I see… but you said you were friends?” Derek said with a teasing smirk.

Spencer laughed. “Alright, you got me. Maybe I should talk to her.”

“In my extremely unbiased, objective, open-minded opinion, yes, you should,” Derek said, nodding sagely.

“She thinks we’re dating,” Spencer said, amusement coloring his voice.

“I know,” Derek laughed, enjoying the situation.

“Thanks for going with that. It felt really good,” Spencer admitted, feeling grateful for Derek’s support.

“I thought it might, Pretty Boy. You’d do the same for me,” Derek replied, sticking his hand out for a sideways shake.

Spencer firmly took his hand, a sense of camaraderie passing between them. “Yeah. I would.”

As they continued their walk, Spencer felt a sense of decidedness. Talking to Y/N seemed like the right thing to do, and with Derek’s encouragement, he was ready to take that step.

—

Spencer was never comfortable with the idea of invading an innocent person’s privacy, especially when it came to Y/N. He had contemplated asking Penelope to find Y/N’s new address, but that felt like crossing a line he wasn’t ready to cross. Instead, he asked her to check if Y/N still worked at the same office in Las Vegas. Penelope’s search confirmed it—bingo.

By Monday afternoon, Spencer had made up his mind to see Y/N. After a productive day at work, including a briefing with Hotch and completing a geographical profile for an ongoing case, he felt ready to take the plunge.

At precisely 4:45 p.m., Spencer arrived at Y/N's office building. The glass doors reflected the late afternoon sun, casting warm hues across the lobby. Spencer took a deep breath and positioned himself near the entrance, hoping to catch her as she left for the day.

He glanced around, adjusting his jacket and trying to appear casual despite the rapid beating of his heart. People streamed out of the building, but there was no sign of Y/N yet.

In recent years, Spencer had lost a lot of his shy demeanor, replacing it with a hard edge that came from the shit he'd endured. He was no longer the timid young agent who second-guessed himself. Yet, nothing made him feel nervous quite like the thought of a confrontation with Y/N.

In the past, she had always gotten the upper hand, often steering their interactions with an ease that left him both amused and bewildered. Not that he wanted to dominate their conversations, but being able to call the shots for once would feel nice. It would be a change of pace, a chance to show her that he wasn't the same person she once knew.

He couldn't help but wonder how this meeting would go. Maybe Y/N would piss him off enough for him to walk away this time. Probably not, but it was a good thought. He had replayed this scenario countless times in his mind, envisioning a confident, collected version of himself handling the situation with poise.

But deep down, he knew that Y/N had a way of unraveling him, of reaching into the core of who he was and drawing out the raw, unfiltered version of Spencer Reid. And perhaps that was part of the reason he felt so drawn to her.

Spencer took a deep breath, reminding himself why he was here. He wanted answers, closure, or maybe just a chance to reconnect with someone who had left an indelible mark on his life. It was a step he needed to take, regardless of the outcome.

And then he saw her.

Y/N emerged from the doors, her presence instantly recognizable. She moved with a natural grace, her expression focused as she checked something on her phone. Spencer's heart skipped a beat, a flood of memories washing over him.

He called her name softly, hoping to catch her attention without startling her.

"Y/N?"

She looked up, her eyes widening in surprise as they locked onto his. For a moment, neither of them spoke, caught in a silent exchange of emotions and unspoken words.

“Spencer?” she finally said, her voice carrying disbelief and curiosity.

“Hi,” Spencer replied, offering a tentative smile. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Y/N blinked, processing his presence. “No, not at all. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Spencer admitted, his tone earnest. “I’ve been thinking a lot about... everything. I didn’t want to leave things as they were.”

Y/N hesitated, a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings rushing through her. Seeing Spencer again was unexpected, but a part of her felt relief—like she’d been waiting for this moment without realizing it.

“I’m glad you came,” she said finally, a soft smile breaking through her initial surprise.

Spencer nodded, not wanting to give away his excitement at her words. His heart leaped at the idea that maybe she wanted this as much as he did.

“So… would you like to come to my place?” Y/N suggested, her voice gentle yet inviting. “We could talk, catch up?”

“Sure,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone casual even though anticipation was bubbling just beneath the surface.

—

Back in Y/N's living room, Spencer was determined to keep his emotions in check. He took a seat on the couch, his posture relaxed yet deliberate, ready to lead the conversation with a directness that was unusual for him.

Y/N returned from the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee, handing one to Spencer before settling into the chair across from him. She could sense the tension in the air, a blend of anticipation and unresolved feelings hanging between them.

“So, what’s been on your mind, Spence?” Y/N asked, her tone light but laced with curiosity.

Spencer took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. He knew this was his chance to express what he had held back for so long, and he didn’t want to shy away from the truth.

“Y/N, I want to be honest with you,” he began, his voice steady and calm. “Our last encounter—the wedding—sucked. You walked away without saying goodbye, and that hurt. A lot.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, guilt flickering in her expression. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” Spencer replied, meeting her gaze with intensity. “But you did. And I need you to understand that. I thought we had something real, something worth exploring, but you ran.”

Y/N felt a knot tighten in her chest, Spencer's words hitting home. She had always known there were unresolved feelings between them, but hearing it so plainly brought it all to the forefront.

“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of what it meant, scared of messing it up. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Spencer nodded, taking in her admission. “I get that. I do. But you need to know that it wasn’t easy for me either. I wanted to be there for you, but I couldn’t if you wouldn’t let me.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of their conversation settling in. Y/N took a sip of her coffee, allowing Spencer’s words to sink in.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” she said again, her sincerity clear in her eyes. “I didn’t realize how much it affected you.”

Spencer softened slightly, seeing her genuine regret. “I don’t want to hold grudges, Y/N. I just needed you to know where I stood.”

Y/N nodded, a sense of relief mingling with her guilt. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing as they both absorbed the emotional exchange. Spencer, though still guarded, felt a sense of closure beginning to form.

“I’m glad we talked,” he said finally, a hint of a smile on his lips. “It feels good to clear the air.”

“Me too,” Y/N replied, returning his smile. “I’ve missed you, Spencer. More than I realized.”

“I missed you too,” he said, smiling softly.

They sat there for a moment, the silence filled with an unspoken acknowledgment of the tug they both felt towards one another. Spencer could sense the nervous energy radiating from Y/N, excitement and uncertainty that matched his own feelings.

“So, um, how long are you in town for?” Y/N stumbled over her words slightly, a bit flustered by how handsome Spencer looked sitting in her living room, alone, in private.

“Just until we close the case,” Spencer replied, rubbing his hands on his pants, feeling awkward. “Hopefully not long.”

“I see,” she said, her voice trailing off.

“Yup,” he said, trying to find the right words to bridge the gap between them.

“Well, I’m glad I got to see you at all,” Y/N said, offering a small, tentative smile.

“Me too,” Spencer echoed, his mind racing with thoughts of what this meeting could mean for them.

“Um, Spence—I, if you want, would you want to get dinner with me?” Y/N asked, her voice carrying a note of hope.

“Like a date?” he said bluntly, catching her off guard.

Y/N’s face flushed fully, something Spencer thoroughly enjoyed, feeling a bit smug at having elicited such a reaction. “Yeah… like a date.”

“Aren’t you seeing someone?” Spencer asked, the hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

“Oh, uh, Alex? I mean, kind of, but—”

“Then, no,” he said firmly, cutting her off.

“No, Spencer, it’s not like that. It’s casual,” Y/N tried to explain, her tone pleading.

“Is everything casual to you?” he snapped, standing up abruptly. “You just run away when things get real?”

Y/N was taken aback by the intensity of his words, her heart sinking as she realized how deeply she had hurt him. “Spencer, that’s not fair—”

“Isn’t it?” he interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt. “You left without a word, and now you want to pick up like nothing happened?”

“I didn’t know what to do back then,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was scared. Of what it meant, of how I felt. I’m sorry.”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. The frustration he felt was visible, but so was the longing that had never quite faded. “I just needed you to be honest with me, Y/N. To let me in.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know I messed up, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I want to try, Spencer. I want to make it right.”

Spencer hesitated, the conflict within him evident. He had imagined this moment many times, wondering if he would ever have the courage to confront Y/N about the past. Now that it was happening, he wasn’t sure how to navigate the emotions swirling inside him.

“Look,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “I need some time to think about all of this. I want to believe you, but I need to know you’re serious.”

“I am,” Y/N promised, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her eyes. “I care about you, Spencer. I always have.”

They stood there in the living room, the air thick with unresolved tension and a hint of hope. Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their shared history and the possibility of a future that might still be within reach.

“Okay,” he said finally, nodding. “I’m going to go back to my hotel, alone. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you tomorrow. But no more games, Y/N.”

“No more games,” she agreed, a small, hopeful smile breaking through the uncertainty.

—

When Spencer arrived at the precinct in the morning, he immediately dove into his work. The case was complex, demanding his full attention and analytical skills. As he focused on the files spread out before him, he failed to notice the bouquet of white and lilac roses sitting elegantly in a mosaic glass vase on the front desk.

After everyone got settled in and Hotch conducted the morning debrief, one of the deputies walked in, holding the vase of flowers.

“Hey, someone left these at the front desk. They’re for a... Doc Ock?” the deputy announced with a bemused expression.

Spencer flushed, caught off guard by the unexpected delivery and the memory of waking up wrapped around Y/N. He quickly stood up, his face a shade of pink as he made his way to the front of the room.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod, taking the flowers from the deputy’s hands.

As he returned to his desk, he could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, each of them filled with curiosity. He tried to ignore the knowing smiles and raised eyebrows as he carefully retrieved the card nestled within the bouquet.

Spencer unfolded the card, angling it slightly to avoid any prying eyes. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized Y/N’s now familiar handwriting.

Hey Doc,

I think it's silly that people usually only buy flowers for celebration or apologies. I also think that you deserve flowers all the time for any reason. Beautiful people should have beautiful things. I know you’re going to read into the meaning of the colors, and yes, I did my research. While white roses signify apology, I already said sorry, so you’ll have to take them for the meaning I intended: a new beginning. As for the lilac…

Xoxox

Petit Chou

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he read the note, his heart warming at the thoughtfulness behind it. He felt a sense of joy and anticipation that he realized only ever came with being around Y/N.

“Who’s it from, Pretty Boy?” Derek teased, trying to get a glimpse of the card.

Spencer quickly slipped the note back into the envelope, maintaining an air of mystery. “Just a friend,” he replied, unable to hide the hint of happiness in his voice.

“Looks like a pretty special friend,” JJ remarked with a wink.

Spencer nodded, feeling grateful for the unexpected gesture and the possibility of rekindling what he once thought was lost.

“Yeah,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “She is.”

As he placed the vase on his desk, the sweet scent of the roses filled the room, a reminder of the new beginning that awaited him with Y/N. It was a moment of hope and renewal, one that Spencer cherished deeply.

It was hard to focus on work that day, with Y/N heavy on Spencer’s mind once again. She was absolutely nuts in his eyes, sending lilac roses of all things…love at first sight.

—

Y/N received Spencer's phone call as promised. She was so nervous she’d miss it that she elected to work from home that day. When the phone finally rang, she took a deep breath before answering, feeling the anticipation and excitement.

“Hello?” Y/N said, a smile evident in her tone.

“Hey, psycho,” Spencer teased, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong number,” Y/N replied playfully. “I’m crazy, not a psycho.”

“Agree to disagree,” Spencer countered, grinning on his end of the line.

“That’s a heavy accusation coming from you, Doctor,” Y/N said, settling into the easy banter they had always shared.

“Lilac roses?” Spencer questioned, shifting the conversation back to the flowers she had sent.

“You figured it out, huh?” Y/N replied, a touch of pride in her voice.

“You knew I would,” Spencer said, his tone softening.

“I knew you would,” Y/N echoed, the sincerity in her words clear.

“You wanted me to know,” Spencer pressed, curious about the depth of her intentions.

“I needed you to know,” Y/N confessed, her voice carrying a vulnerability she rarely showed.

“Why?” Spencer asked, genuinely wanting to understand.

There was a pause on the line, the weight of the moment hanging between them. Y/N took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully

“Because it’s true,” she said finally, her voice steady but full of emotion. “I’ve always had a hard time expressing myself, especially when it comes to you, Spencer. I wanted you to understand how important you are to me. How important you’ve always been to me.”

Spencer felt his heart swell at her words, the sincerity and openness touching something deep within him. He had always sensed a special connection between them, but hearing Y/N express it so openly made him realize just how much he had missed her.

“Thank you,” Spencer said softly, his voice holding gratitude and affection.

“Anything for you,” Y/N replied, her words warm and reassuring

“I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon,” Spencer said, regret tinged with the promise of future conversations.

“Okay, talk soon,” Y/N responded, a smile audible in her voice.

They ended the call, and Spencer stood for a moment, phone still in hand, processing the conversation. He felt a renewed sense of hope, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter—one that he hoped would lead them back to each other, this time for good.

—

Y/N was stuck smiling like a moron after her conversation with Spencer, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again. Her heart was fluttering, and she couldn't stop replaying the conversation in her head, each word replaying with a sense of joy and promise. Thank god she stayed home from work, her coworkers would have had a field day with the dopey look on her face.

That was something Alex never made her feel. Alex. Shit.

Her mind jolted back to reality as she realized she had another important call to make. The weight of her decision settled in her chest, but she knew what she needed to do.

Y/N took a deep breath, pulling up Alex's number on her phone. She knew it wouldn’t be an easy conversation, but it was necessary. Alex deserved honesty, and Y/N had to follow her heart, even if it meant ending things with someone who had been nothing but kind to her.

After a few rings, Alex picked up, their voice warm and familiar. "Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?"

“Hey, Alex,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her tone light despite the seriousness of the call. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Sure,” they said, picking up on the slight tension in her voice. “What’s up?”

Y/N took another deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “I wanted to talk to you about something important. I’ve been doing some thinking, and I feel like it’s only fair to be honest with you.”

“Okay…” Alex said, their tone cautious.

With that weight lifted, her mind returned to Spencer, and the possibilities of what their renewed relationship might bring. Y/N felt hopeful about the future. She was ready to embrace whatever came next, knowing that this time, she would be honest with herself and with Spencer about what she truly wanted.

—

Unfortunately, Spencer didn’t have another chance to see Y/N before the team had to return to Virginia. The case had wrapped up quickly, and duty called them back to Quantico sooner than he had hoped. As the plane soared through the sky, Spencer found himself staring out the window, his thoughts consumed by Y/N and the possibilities that lay ahead.

Once back in his apartment, Spencer wasted no time. He dropped his bags, kicked off his shoes, and immediately reached for his phone. He needed to hear Y/N’s voice, to let her know that he was serious about pursuing whatever it was they had rekindled.

He dialed her number, anticipation building as the line rang.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, her voice a comforting balm to his weary mind.

“Hey, it’s me,” Spencer said, smiling despite his exhaustion. “I just got back home.”

“Hey, me. Your voice sounds different here, did it get deeper?” Y/N teased, her playful tone immediately lightening Spencer’s mood.

“You’re an idiot,” Spencer laughed affectionately, the sound of her voice soothing the stress from his long journey.

“So first I’m a psycho, and now I’m an idiot. That’s a lot of negative self-talk, me. Are you okay?” Y/N quipped, her humor shining through.

Spencer got a good laugh in, thoroughly entertained by Y/N’s sense of humor. “I’m okay,” he assured, shaking his head in amusement.

“Listen, I know we didn’t get much time together while I was in Vegas, but I wanted to tell you that I’m serious about us. I’d like to plan a trip out to visit you as soon as I can so we can try dating. See if it even works between the two of us.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, and Spencer held his breath, waiting for her response.

“I’d really like that, Spencer,” she finally said, her tone filled with warmth and excitement. “I was actually hired by a magazine to write this article, and I think you’d be the perfect person to help me!”

“Oh, really?” Spencer asked, still gullible despite her teasing tone. “What’s it about?”

“Oh, you’re going to love it! It’s going to be called ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,’ and—”

“On second thought, I’m so busy here I don’t think I can get any time off,” Spencer teased seriously, playing along with her joke.

“Oh no! My perfect plan!” Y/N laughed, her voice a melody of genuine joy.

Spencer chuckled, his heart feeling light and full. “You got me there. But seriously, I’d love to visit.”

“Good, because I wasn’t joking about the visiting part,” Y/N said, her voice softening. “I really want to see you, Spencer. And not just for an article.”

“I want to see you too,” Spencer replied earnestly. “I’ll look at my schedule and figure out when I can come. I want to make this work.”

“Take your time,” Y/N reassured, her sincerity evident. “Whenever you can come, I’ll be here.”

They spent the rest of the conversation discussing potential dates and places they could visit together, both feeling the excitement of what lay ahead. Their banter was effortless, their connection undeniable, and Spencer found himself looking forward to this new chapter.

—

As luck would have it, Y/N’s job offered much more flexibility than Spencer’s, allowing her to take time off with relative ease. With that in mind, Spencer approached Hotch about taking two weeks off, explaining his plans and the importance of the time off. Hotch agreed, granting Spencer the time away with the condition that he remain available in case a serious case arose. In such an event, Spencer would work from Quantico alongside Penelope.

On the other hand, Y/N was allotted a two-week vacation on the condition that she take her computer and remain accessible for any urgent work matters. She readily agreed, buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing Spencer and experiencing his world in Virginia.

The month leading up to her trip seemed to fly by. Spencer had been called on another case almost immediately after their initial reunion, but they stayed in constant contact.

Now, the day had finally arrived. Y/N sat on the plane, her heart racing with anticipation. She pulled out her phone, sending Spencer a quick text to let him know she had made it onto the plane and that they were about to take off.

Hey Spence, I just wanted to let you know I’m on the plane, and we’re about to take off! I can’t wait to see you. :)

She glanced out the window as the plane began to taxi down the runway. As the plane lifted into the sky, Y/N closed her eyes, letting the hum of the engines soothe her nerves. The flight would be a few hours, giving her plenty of time to reflect on the past and the possibilities of the future.

Meanwhile, in Virginia Spencer received Y/N’s text just as he was tidying up his apartment, a sense of excitement coursing through him. He had spent the past week preparing for her visit, ensuring everything was perfect for her arrival. He wanted to share his world with her, to show her the life he had built in Virginia.

He texted back quickly, his fingers flying over the keys.

Hey, Y/N! I’m so glad to hear you’re on your way. I can’t wait to see you. Safe travels!

As he hit send, Spencer felt a flutter of anticipation. It had been a long time since he had looked forward to something with such eagerness, and the prospect of spending time with Y/N filled him with joy.

—

Spencer stood outside the baggage claim at Dulles International Airport, his heart racing with anticipation. In his hand, he held a small, handwritten sign that read Mrs. Ock, a playful nod to the nickname that had become a lighthearted joke between them.

As travelers streamed past him, Spencer scanned the crowd, his eyes searching for the familiar face he had been looking forward to seeing. The excitement was palpable, a mix of nerves and happiness bubbling within him.

And then he saw her.

Y/N emerged from the crowd, looking slightly travel-worn but radiating the same beauty and charm that had drawn him to her in the first place. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him, a smile breaking across her face as she approached.

“Spencer!” she called, her voice rising above the chatter of the busy terminal.

He grinned, holding up the sign as she walked toward him. “Welcome to Virginia, Mrs. Ock,” he said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

Y/N laughed, reaching him with open arms. “I can’t believe you actually made a sign,” she said, wrapping him in a hug that felt both familiar and new.

“It seemed fitting,” Spencer replied, embracing her tightly, feeling the warmth and comfort of her presence. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Me too,” Y/N said, pulling back slightly to look at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I’ve missed you.”

They lingered for a moment, soaking in the reality of being together again. The weeks apart had only heightened their anticipation, and now, standing face to face, it felt like no time had passed at all.

“So, what’s the plan?” Y/N asked, her excitement evident as she retrieved her luggage from the carousel.

“Well,” Spencer began, taking her suitcase in hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I thought we could start with a seven-hour history of every event that has ever taken place in Virginia, followed by a pop quiz. And then, you could help me translate this new book I got from Korean to Russian.”

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head at his playful seriousness. “Sounds perfect,” she replied, playing along. “But before the history lesson, are there any high ledges I can stand on top of? You know, just for dramatic effect.”

Spencer chuckled, enjoying their banter. “Oh, I’m sure we can find a nice, tall building for you to contemplate life from. It might even offer a panoramic view of all the historical landmarks I’m going to lecture you about.”

“Excellent. I’ll need a good view while I ponder my life choices,” Y/N teased, giving him a playful nudge as they made their way through the bustling airport.

As they walked out into the warm Virginia air, Spencer felt a sense of happiness he had forgotten he could feel. The playfulness between them was infectious, a reminder of the tie they shared that had survived time and distance.

“Seriously, though,” Spencer said, turning to face Y/N as they reached the car. “I have a few places in mind that I think you’ll really enjoy. But we can save sightseeing for another day. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Spence,” she said, gazing up at him with a smile, “I’ll do anything you want to do.”

A mischievous glint appeared in Spencer’s eyes as he replied, “Well, I was recently gifted the Kama Sutra...”

“Spencer Reid!” Y/N exclaimed, her cheeks flushing as she playfully smacked his arm. Her laughter filled the air, a sound that warmed Spencer’s heart.

He chuckled, enjoying her reaction. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But really, we can do whatever you feel like. I’m just happy you’re here.”

Y/N shook her head, a grin still on her face as she settled into the car. “You’ve changed, Doctor Reid. I like this new side of you.”

Spencer flashed a charming smile as he started the engine. “You bring it out in me,” he admitted, glancing at her with genuine affection.

—

As they drove through the quaint streets of Virginia, the passing scenery was a blend of historic charm and natural beauty, with tree-lined streets and quaint buildings that painted a picturesque backdrop for their reunion.

“Virginia is beautiful,” Y/N remarked, her eyes taking in the scenery with awe.

“It is,” Spencer agreed, feeling a swell of pride. “And I’m glad I get to show it to you.”

The drive felt both comforting and exhilarating, the anticipation of the days ahead making each mile more exciting.

When they finally arrived at Spencer’s apartment, Y/N stepped out of the car, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement.

“This is it,” Spencer said, opening the door and motioning for her to enter. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Y/N stepped inside, taking in the carefully curated space that reflected Spencer’s personality perfectly. The shelves were lined with books, of course, and the decor was a mix of comfort and intellectual charm.

“It’s exactly how I imagined it,” Y/N said, turning to him with a smile. “Cozy and full of books.”

Spencer chuckled, closing the door behind them. “I hope it’s not too overwhelming.”

“Not at all,” Y/N replied, her tone sincere. “It’s perfect.”

“Well, I’ll show you my bedroom. We can put your stuff in there,” Spencer said, leading the way down the hallway.

“Oh great! And where will you be sleeping?” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow as she followed him.

“In the bathtub, obviously,” Spencer replied with a smirk.

“Fantastic, we don’t need a repeat of last time,” Y/N shot back, grinning at the memory of their playful exchanges.

“Sure, Mrs. Ock, I know how much you hated it,” Spencer quipped, chuckling at their shared joke.

“I am not at liberty to confirm or deny that,” Y/N said, feigning innocence.

“Mhm,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes playfully as they reached his bedroom. “So, this is the bedroom, where I like to keep my clothes and lie awake at night thinking about serial killers.”

“Ohh, so relaxing,” Y/N said, taking in the room with a mock-serious expression. “Is this where you keep the Kama Sutra too?”

Spencer laughed, shaking his head. “No, that’s in a special place reserved for when I really need to unwind after a long day.”

“Oh, of course,” Y/N said, nodding sagely. “Everyone needs a little light reading before bed.”

They both burst into laughter, the easy banter between them an indication of the comfort they shared.

As Y/N unpacked her belongings, she felt a sense of belonging that she hadn’t anticipated. Spencer’s space was filled with little details that made it uniquely his—bookmarks tucked into half-read novels, maps pinned to the walls, and a cozy armchair that looked like it had been well-loved over the years.

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” Y/N said, glancing over at Spencer as she placed her suitcase in the corner.

“Of course,” Spencer replied, his voice warm with sincerity. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of the journey that had led them to this moment. The excitement and familiarity, a step into the unknown that felt just right.

—

That evening, after Y/N and Spencer enjoyed some takeout for dinner, they settled on Spencer’s couch, ready to wind down with a movie. The room was cozy and dimly lit, the perfect setting for a relaxing night in.

“I’m not watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” Spencer declared as they discussed movie options, a playful smirk on his face.

“It’s a classic!” Y/N protested, leaning back into the cushions with an exaggerated pout.

“It’s literally not,” Spencer countered, chuckling at her enthusiasm.

“But I love that movie,” Y/N insisted, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“And I do not care at all,” Spencer replied, shaking his head with mock sternness.

“Fine, asshole, what do you want to watch?” Y/N relented, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile.

“We could watch one of the Star Wars movies,” Spencer suggested, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

“Let me guess… Return of the Jedi?” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“No…” Spencer said, dragging out the word in a way that told Y/N she had guessed right.

“You just want to see Princess Leia in a bikini!” she exclaimed, playfully nudging him with her elbow.

Spencer laughed, the sound genuine and free. “I’ll have you know that Return of the Jedi is a pivotal moment in the saga’s narrative arc, with or without the bikini.”

“Oh, sure, sure. It’s all about the ‘narrative arc,’” Y/N teased, putting air quotes around his words.

“Fine, if you insist,” Spencer said, finally admitting with a sheepish grin. “Leia does have her moments.”

“Busted!” Y/N laughed, delighted by his admission.

Spencer rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “What can I say? I have a soft spot for rebellious princesses.”

“Don’t we all?” Y/N said, settling back against the couch cushions. “Alright, let’s watch it. But I reserve the right to critique every plot hole and outdated special effect.”

“Deal,” Spencer agreed, grabbing the remote and selecting Return of the Jedi.

As the opening crawl began, Y/N and Spencer settled in, the familiar theme music filling the room. They watched as the story unfolded, occasionally pausing to discuss their favorite scenes or to laugh at Y/N’s witty commentary on the more dated aspects of the film.

About halfway through the movie, Y/N got up to go to the bathroom. When she returned, she was surprised to find Spencer waiting with a playful look in his eyes. As she walked around the couch, he held out his hand to her, signaling for her to take it.

With a curious smile, Y/N accepted his hand, only to be gently pulled down next to him, their sides pressed comfortably together. Spencer then let go of her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and kissing her head softly.

“Did… did I just get romanced by Spencer Reid?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with teasing disbelief.

“Shhh, the movie’s on,” Spencer replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Are you flirting with me?” Y/N pressed, glancing up at him with a knowing grin.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, feigning innocence as he tried to focus on the screen.

Y/N wasn’t having it. She proceeded to poke her fingers into Spencer’s ticklish side, causing him to squirm and laugh despite himself.

“Okay, uncle! Uncle!” Spencer finally conceded between fits of laughter. “Yes, I’m flirting with you!”

“Good, loser,” Y/N said, settling back against him with a satisfied smile.

“I’m going to remember this,” Spencer warned playfully.

“You remember everything,” Y/N teased, poking him gently in the ribs.

—

As they tidied up and got ready to call it a night, Y/N couldn’t help but reflect on how perfect the evening had been. The easy laughter and shared moments reminded her of why she had been so drawn to Spencer in the first place.

“Thanks for indulging me,” Spencer said, turning to face her as they stood in the living room.

“You gave me no choice," Y/N teased, "I hope you dream of me in the golden bikini.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my… reading material.”

“Pervert!” Y/N laughed, swatting his arm. “You’re so bold now.”

“Is that okay?” Spencer asked, his voice dropping to a more serious tone as he searched her eyes for an answer.

“It’s more than okay,” Y/N replied softly, her gaze meeting his with amusement and something deeper.

The two got ready for bed, Spencer being convinced Y/N had put on the smallest things she could find in her suitcase to torture him. Luckily, he wasn’t still the same bumbling idiot he was four years ago—he didn't get hard when the wind brushed by anymore.

He might not actually have the Kama Sutra, but he had finally indulged in self-pleasure. Let's just say, he holds himself together a lot better now.

—

Spencer could not hold himself together at all. He woke up spooning Y/N once again, albeit less like an octopus and more like a boyfriend. His very hard dick was pressing into her very soft ass, waking the rest of his body up very quickly. He swallowed, trying to calm himself and think of literally anything else, but it was no use.

The feel of her warmth against him, the rise and fall of her breathing, was all-consuming. Not wanting to scare her too soon, especially considering how things went last time, Spencer eased out of bed as carefully as possible, trying not to disturb her. He slipped into the shower, hoping the cold water might calm his nerves.

Y/N didn’t even remember falling asleep last night; she was just so comfortable in Spencer’s bed. She was surrounded by the rich smell of him, the warmth of his covers, and the knowledge that he was there. It was as if the sheets were wrapped around her like a cocoon of security, and she didn’t really want to get up.

She sighed contentedly, letting her eyes drift open, only to find Spencer missing from the bed. Much to her disappointment, he wasn’t beside her anymore. But the sound of the shower running from the bathroom clued her in to where he had run off to.

Spencer’s apartment only had one bathroom, and now that she was tuned into the sound of running water, staying in bed was a luxury she couldn’t afford. The pressing need to pee was becoming more urgent by the second.

Getting out of bed, she padded softly toward the bathroom, considering the situation. This might be too intimate for two people who said they would try dating but still hadn’t even kissed. But it was this or pee on his floor. Being the germaphobe Spencer is, she didn’t think he’d appreciate that too much.

She hesitated for a moment, then raised her hand to knock gently on the bathroom door. “Spencer?” she called, her voice slightly muffled by the door.

Startled by her voice, Spencer dropped the soap with a thud. He cursed under his breath, fumbling to pick it up. “Uh, yeah?” he replied, trying to sound casual despite the surprise.

“Can I come in?” Y/N asked, shifting from foot to foot, hoping he’d understand her urgency.

“...Why?” Spencer asked cautiously, the water continuing to patter around him in the shower.

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk, even though he couldn’t see it. “Well, I didn’t get to see you naked in Napa,” she teased, hoping to lighten the situation with a joke.

“Y/N!” Spencer spluttered, feeling his cheeks flush even though he knew she was just kidding.

“I need to pee really bad,” she admitted, the humor dropping from her tone to emphasize the urgency.

There was a brief pause, and Y/N could almost hear the wheels turning in Spencer’s head as he considered her request.

“Fine,” Spencer finally relented with a sigh, “just don’t look, please. It’s a glass shower.”

“Promise,” Y/N replied, her tone both relieved and playful. She opened the door just enough to slip inside, determined to keep her eyes averted as she made a beeline for the toilet.

As she settled down, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation, the familiarity of it feeling strangely comforting. “You know, this is definitely a new level of intimacy for us.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head as he tried to focus on rinsing off. “Yeah, well, just another day in the life of Dr. Reid.”

Y/N finished up and washed her hands, keeping her back turned to him the entire time to respect his request for privacy. As she headed back out, she paused by the door, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Thanks, Spence. Oh, one more thing,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“What’s that?” Spencer asked, glancing at her curiously from behind the glass shower door.

“Did your ass get bigger?” she quipped, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him a little more.

Spencer burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the tiles. “Get out!” he exclaimed, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

Y/N grinned, giving him a cheeky wave before slipping out of the bathroom, feeling lighthearted. She left Spencer to finish his shower with amusement and affection for the woman who had quickly become such an important part of his life.

—

Spencer and Y/N spent the day exploring all of Spencer’s favorite spots. They strolled through parks, visited local bookstores, and even stopped by a quaint café Spencer adored. Y/N found herself overflowing with adoration for the man who seemed to find joy and wonder in the simplest of things. She admired the way he spoke passionately about his interests, the light in his eyes when he shared a new fact, and the genuine kindness he showed to everyone they encountered.

Spencer, on the other hand, felt his heart swell with every smile Y/N gave him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he might be falling in love with her, something that both excited and terrified him. Her laughter, her curiosity, and the way she made him feel like he was the only person in the world were intoxicating.

As the day turned to evening, they ended up back at Spencer’s apartment per his request that they dress nicely for dinner reservations he had made at a fancy restaurant. The thought of a romantic evening filled him with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

Spencer left Y/N to use the bathroom, only needing to change clothes and tousle his hair a bit. He opted for a crisp, tailored suit that brought out the color of his eyes, feeling it was a special enough occasion to warrant the extra effort.

Y/N, meanwhile, took her time selecting the best dress she had packed, one that hugged her curves just right and made her feel confident. She applied slightly more makeup than usual, enhancing her features and adding a touch of elegance to her appearance. She wanted to impress, knowing that this was a night she wanted to remember.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Spencer was sitting in his living room, engrossed in a book. He looked up as she entered, and his eyes widened in appreciation.

“Ready to go?” Y/N asked, trying to sound casual despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Spencer glanced over his shoulder, the angle making his jaw look extra sharp. His breath caught for a moment as he took in her transformation. “Jesus, I didn’t know you could clean up that well.”

“Shut up, Doctor,” Y/N replied, blushing under his intense gaze.

“I’m serious,” Spencer said, putting his book on the table and standing up. He approached her, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re breathtaking.”

“And you’re cheesy,” Y/N said, trying to deflect the compliment but unable to hide her smile.

“You love it,” Spencer teased, his voice low and playful.

“The jury’s still out,” Y/N replied, though her voice betrayed her amusement.

“Yeah?” Spencer asked, stepping closer until he was right in front of her, his breath fanning over her face. His proximity sent a thrill through her, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

“Uh-huh,” Y/N managed to say, her voice a whisper as she met his gaze, feeling the tension and anticipation crackling in the air between them.

Spencer reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft and reverent. He looked at her with such warmth and sincerity that she felt herself melt under his gaze.

“Let’s go,” Spencer said softly, offering his arm to her.

Y/N took it, feeling a sense of excitement as they headed out the door, ready to enjoy an evening that promised to be as magical as the day they had shared.

—

After being seated in the gorgeous restaurant, Y/N and Spencer settled into the comfortable ambiance, surrounded by soft candlelight and the murmur of conversations from other patrons. The place was elegant, with high ceilings and ornate decorations that gave it a timeless charm. Spencer had chosen well, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of this special evening.

As they perused the menu, the conversation naturally flowed into laughter and stories, each taking turns recounting moments that had shaped their lives since they last saw each other.

“I swear!” Y/N exclaimed, her eyes wide with amusement. “Hand to my heart, Adam thought he could handle watching Lizzie give birth. He took one look at the head crowning and passed out!”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like Adam. Always so confident until reality hits.”

Y/N laughed, nodding in agreement. “Lizzie was not impressed. She had to finish giving birth and then tend to him once he came around. He claims he wasn’t out for long, but I swear it was a solid minute before he came to.”

“I can just imagine the look on Lizzie’s face,” Spencer said, grinning. “She must have been livid.”

“Oh, she was,” Y/N confirmed, giggling. “But you know Adam. He made it up to her with his charm and a dozen apologies.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, enjoying the easy rapport they shared. It felt good to laugh and reminisce, the years between them melting away with every shared story.

“What about you?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued. “Any memorable moments you’ve had to deal with recently?”

Spencer paused, considering the past few years. “Well, there was that time we had to deal with a bomb threat at a library. I was in the middle of reshelving a section when they called in the evacuation.”

“A bomb threat?” Y/N said, eyes widening. “That sounds terrifying.”

“It was,” Spencer admitted, though his tone remained light. “But it all worked out in the end. The threat was a hoax, but not before my team teased me about being more concerned for the books than myself.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You would be more worried about the books.”

“Guilty as charged,” Spencer replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

—

As the evening unfolded, the restaurant's attentive waitstaff served them a series of exquisite dishes, each one more delicious than the last. Spencer and Y/N shared bites of their meals, their mutual enjoyment adding another layer of intimacy to the night.

“Have you ever tried this before?” Spencer asked, offering a forkful of his dish to Y/N.

“No, but it looks amazing,” Y/N said, leaning forward to taste it. “Wow, that’s incredible.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Spencer said, pleased with her reaction.

Y/N returned the favor, offering him a bite from her plate. “You have to try this one. It’s divine.”

Spencer obliged, savoring the flavor. “You have excellent taste,” he complimented, earning a satisfied smile from Y/N.

As they continued to share their meal, Spencer found himself more and more captivated by Y/N. Her laughter, her stories, the way her eyes lit up with enthusiasm—it all made him realize just how much he had missed having her in his life.

—

Toward the end of the meal, as they lingered over dessert, Spencer took a moment to reflect on everything that had led to this point. The twists and turns, the missed connections, and finally, the chance to reconnect.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught her attention. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Y/N looked at him, her expression softening. “I am too, Spencer. I’ve missed this—us.”

There was a moment of silence, but it was a comfortable one, filled with the understanding and union that words sometimes failed to express. Spencer reached across the table, his fingers lightly grazing Y/N’s hand, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin against his own.

Her heart fluttered at the contact, and she couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “About us, about what might have been if we’d stayed in touch.”

Spencer nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. “Me too. It’s funny how life works sometimes, bringing people back together when you least expect it.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I guess some things are just meant to be, even if they take a little detour.”

Their eyes met, and Spencer felt a swell of emotion, realizing that this was a moment he wanted to remember forever. It wasn’t just about the past or the what-ifs, but about the present and the possibilities that lay ahead.

“So, what do you think?” Spencer asked, his tone playful yet sincere. “About us trying to make this work?”

Y/N took a deep breath, considering the question. It was a big step, but one she was ready to take.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” she replied, her eyes shining with hope. “I’d like to see where this goes, Spencer. I really would.”

Spencer’s heart soared at her words, the promise of a new beginning filling him with excitement and anticipation.

—

As they finished their dessert and prepared to leave the restaurant, Spencer and Y/N felt a sense of optimism and joy. The night had been perfect, a blend of laughter, shared memories, and heartfelt conversations that brought them closer together than ever before.

“Ready to head back?” Spencer asked, offering his hand to help her up from the table.

“Ready when you are,” Y/N replied, taking his hand and feeling a thrill at the touch.

They walked out of the restaurant into the cool evening air, hand in hand, the stars twinkling above them like a promise of new adventures to come.

As they strolled back to Spencer’s apartment, the city lights casting a warm glow around them, they talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as naturally as it always had.

When they reached the apartment, Spencer held the door open for her, a gentlemanly gesture that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping inside and feeling the comfort of his presence beside her.

“My pleasure,” Spencer replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

Once inside, Y/N kicked off her heels and sighed contentedly, the evening having been everything she had hoped for and more. Spencer joined her on the couch, and they sat together, savoring the moment.

“Today was amazing,” Y/N said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad,” Spencer replied, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer. “I wanted it to be special.”

“It was,” Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude and affection. “Thank you, Spencer.”

They sat there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the quiet of the apartment a soothing backdrop to their thoughts and feelings. It was a moment of peace and reflection.

“I don’t want this to end,” Spencer said softly, voicing the thought that had been on his mind all night.

“It doesn’t have to,” Y/N replied, lifting her head to look at him.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, everything felt right. The past, the present, and the future all seemed to converge, leading them to this point where anything was possible.

Spencer leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her gently, the touch a promise of what lay ahead. Y/N kissed him back, feeling the warmth and love that had been building between them, finally finding its place in the world they were creating together.

The kiss deepened as Spencer’s hands cupped Y/N’s face, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. The tender touch sent shivers down her spine, and she leaned into him, savoring the spark that felt both electric and comforting. Spencer’s fingers slowly tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer as he let himself get lost in the moment.

Y/N’s hands found their way to Spencer’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt. She marveled at the strength and tenderness in him, the way he seemed to know exactly what she needed. As if sensing her thoughts, Spencer pulled back slightly, gazing into her eyes with intensity and affection.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice a soft murmur that wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection and desire. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

With a playful glint in his eye, Spencer leaned in again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle this time. It was a kiss filled with passion and urgency, a reflection of the emotions that had been simmering between them for so long.

Spencer’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened the kiss. Y/N could feel the heat radiating from his growing erection, a fire that matched her own. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them and the affinity they shared.

“Are you okay with this?” Spencer asked softly, pulling back just enough to search her eyes for any sign of hesitation.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as she felt his hands trail up her sides. “More than okay,” she assured him, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Spencer smiled, his eyes darkening with desire. He took her hand and guided it to the buttons of his shirt, silently inviting her to take the next step. Y/N’s fingers worked quickly, undoing each button with anticipation and eagerness.

As she pushed the fabric aside, revealing the toned muscles beneath, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight before her. Spencer was beautiful, a perfect blend of strength and vulnerability, and she felt a surge of emotion at the thought of being here with him.

Spencer seemed to read her thoughts, and he reached for the zipper of her dress, his touch both gentle and confident. The sound of the zipper filled the room, a quiet yet thrilling reminder of the moment they were sharing.

But as the fabric loosened around her shoulders, Y/N felt a sudden rush of emotions and pulled back slightly, placing her hand gently on Spencer’s chest. “Wait,” she said softly.

Spencer immediately froze, concern flashing across his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, searching her eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “This is a lot,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. The emotions swirling inside her were intense; desire, fear, and longing.

Spencer swore he could feel his heart break, the words echoing painfully in his mind. Y/N had said very similar words to him four years ago before she left, and he couldn’t help but fear that history might repeat itself.

“Okay, let's slow down,” Spencer said gently, his voice calm and reassuring as he moved his hand away from her dress. He wanted to give her space and reassurance, making sure she felt comfortable and safe.

Y/N looked up at him, relief flooding through her as she saw the understanding and care in his eyes. “I just—I’ve wanted you for so long, and I’m a little overwhelmed,” she confessed, her cheeks flushing with vulnerability. “We have time. Can we take baby steps?”

“Of course, babe,” Spencer replied, a soft smile playing on his lips as he cupped her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin.

Babe. Babe. Babe. Y/N's mind spun as she replayed the word, feeling a thrill run through her. Spencer called her babe. It was a simple term of endearment, but it carried a weight of affection and intimacy that made her heart skip a beat.

“You called me babe,” she said, her voice filled with surprise and delight.

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “I did,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “It’s very okay,” she replied, her smile growing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“You’re still hard,” Y/N observed, her voice holding amusement and curiosity as she glanced down at the noticeable tension between them.

“I’m violently aware of that fact,” Spencer replied, a hint of exasperation coloring his tone as he tried to maintain some semblance of control.

Y/N smirked, clearly enjoying his predicament. “What do you want to do about that?”

Spencer took a deep breath, his mind racing with possibilities. “First, you’re wonderful,” he said, his voice laced with affection, “but I’m going to need you to get off of me.”

“Why?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence as she shifted slightly, her movements deliberate and teasing.

“Don’t tease me right now, it’s not nice,” Spencer warned, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

“But I like teasing you,” Y/N countered, her smile widening as she reveled in the effect she had on him.

Spencer arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “You won’t always be in charge, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more suggestive tone.

“Are you saying I am right now?” she challenged, her tone playful and confident.

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” Spencer replied, trying to sound stern but failing as his own amusement crept into his voice.

Y/N laughed softly, clearly enjoying the banter between them. But her playful teasing took a more daring turn as she leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over his skin.

“What if I did this?” Y/N whispered, grinding her hips down on Spencer’s erection, a bold move that sent a jolt of electricity through him.

Spencer’s breath hitched, his mind momentarily blank as a wave of heat washed over him. He couldn’t help but let out a low groan, the sensation both thrilling and maddening.

“Y/N,” he managed to say, his voice a mixture of warning and desire as he fought to keep his composure.

She leaned back slightly, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. “Yes, Spencer?” she asked, her voice sweetly innocent despite her bold actions.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief at the situation. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, his tone both admiring and amused.

“Well, at least you’ll go out with a smile,” Y/N quipped, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him.

Spencer reached up, his hands settling on her hips as he tried to regain some measure of control. “You’re impossible,” he said, though there was no mistaking the affection in his voice.

“And you love it,” Y/N replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips, the warmth between them undeniable.

“Unfortunate, but true,” Spencer admitted, feeling both amused and enchanted by her boldness.

“So you want to be in charge?” Y/N asked, her voice taking on a sultry edge as she looked at him with playful eyes.

Spencer narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to figure out where she was going with this. “What are you getting at?” he asked, curiosity piquing his interest.

Y/N met his gaze steadily, her confidence shining through. “You can use me, baby,” she said, her words dripping with seduction and sincerity.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “What??” he said, his brain struggling to process the implications of her offer.

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers gently guiding his hands to her hips. “Take my hips,” she instructed, her voice low and inviting. “And use me to get off.”

The room seemed to fall silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. Spencer's heart raced, excitement and awe washing over him. It was an invitation he hadn't expected but one that spoke volumes about the trust and desire between them.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of uncertainty, but all he saw was warmth and encouragement.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern and longing.

Y/N nodded, her expression sincere and reassuring. “I’m sure,” she said, her hands covering his as she leaned in, brushing her lips against his in a gentle, reassuring kiss.

Spencer exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in his body shift from uncertainty to anticipation. His fingers tightened around her hips, the soft fabric of her dress under his touch a reminder of the reality of the moment.

“Okay,” Spencer said, his voice steady as he accepted her invitation, allowing himself to embrace the desire that had been building between them.

With newfound confidence, Spencer shifted slightly, guiding her movements with his hands. The sensation of her warmth and softness against him was intoxicating, a heady rush of pleasure and emotion that made his heart race.

Y/N moved with him, her body responding to his touch in a way that felt natural and right. The air between them was electric, charged with the promise of what they were exploring together.

Spencer’s breath hitched, his heart pounding as he felt the electricity between them deepen with every movement and shared breath. It was a dance of trust and intimacy, one that they had unconsciously choreographed together over time. Each subtle shift of her hips and every soft gasp that escaped her lips was a reminder of the potent chemistry they shared, a chemistry that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

Y/N’s body moved against his with an urgency that mirrored his own, her touch igniting a fire that spread through him like a blaze. Spencer realized just how much he had missed this—missed her. The way she seemed to know exactly how to touch him, how to bring him to the edge of reason, was something he had never found even in himself. It was as if she had a map to every sensitive spot, every place that could make him unravel.

The air between them was thick with tension, every whisper and caress speaking volumes of the unspoken desires that had lingered between them. Spencer’s hands traveled along Y/N’s body, his fingers tracing the curves of her hips and pulling her closer, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.

Their breathing became ragged, the room filled with the sounds of their shared experience—the low hum of desire, the soft moans of pleasure, the occasional whispered word that sent shivers down each other’s spines. The intensity of the moment built like a crescendo, each wave of sensation more overwhelming than the last.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his voice hoarse with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. He bucked his hips up instinctively, the friction almost too much to bear as he felt her move against him, her warmth enveloping him.

He tightened his grip on her hips, guiding her movements, feeling the tension coil tightly within him. His breath caught in his throat as he neared the brink, his mind a haze of sensation and longing.

Y/N responded to his every movement, her body attuned to his in a way that felt almost instinctual. She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his ear as she whispered something that made his skin tingle, her words a promise and a challenge all at once.

“Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

In that moment, Spencer surrendered to the intensity, pulling her down to meet him as he let go, the release hitting him with an unexpected force that left him breathless. His body trembled with the aftermath, the world narrowing down to the exquisite sensation and the woman in his arms.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Spencer lay there panting, his heart racing, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. Y/N remained close, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his skin as she pressed gentle kisses to his face, grounding him in the moment.

Spencer sat there for a moment, panting heavily, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure. Embarrassment and satisfaction coursed through him with each breath.

“You okay?” she whispered, her voice tender and soothing as she pulled back slightly to look into his eyes.

Spencer opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a look of gratitude and affection. “Yeah,” he breathed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m okay.”

She chuckled softly, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “Good,” she replied, continuing to stroke his hair with gentle, soothing motions.

The room was quiet now, the echoes of their shared moment fading into the background as they simply enjoyed being together.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said suddenly, a touch of sheepishness coloring his tone. “I didn’t mean to, you know...”

“Don’t be,” Y/N interrupted, her smile reassuring. “I wanted this. I wanted to be here with you.”

Her words eased the lingering tension in Spencer’s chest, and he nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle embrace.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside their little cocoon feeling distant and irrelevant. Spencer felt a profound sense of contentment, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Y/N sighed contentedly, resting her head on his shoulder. “I really don't want to ruin this sweet moment,” she murmured, her voice filled with both affection and mischief.

“Oh God,” Spencer groaned, a teasing glint in his eyes as he prepared for whatever quip was about to come his way.

“You don't even know what I'm going to say,” Y/N protested, feigning indignation.

“It’s almost never good,” Spencer replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying the playful banter between them.

“Ignoring that,” Y/N brushed him off with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, we should change.”

“Oh… yeah, hah,” Spencer agreed, suddenly remembering the very real situation they were in.

“Like now, preferably,” she continued, trying to sound serious but unable to keep the laughter from her voice. “There’s jizz in my underwear. How much did you come?”

Spencer let out a groan of embarrassment, covering his face with his hands. “I hate you more than anyone I’ve ever known,” he muttered, though his tone was light and playful.

Y/N laughed, the sound bubbling up and filling the room with a sense of joy and comfort. She pulled back slightly, giving him a teasing look. “It’s not my fault you’re an overachiever, Doctor Reid,” she teased, playfully poking his side.

Spencer chuckled, dropping his hands and meeting her gaze with a fond smile. “I’m just thorough,” he replied, playing along with her teasing.

“Clearly,” Y/N said with a grin, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips before reluctantly getting up from the couch.

They both stood up, sharing a glance that was a mixture of amusement and affection.

“Let’s get changed before we traumatize your couch any further,” Y/N suggested, shaking her head with a mock-serious expression.

“Good plan,” Spencer agreed, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

They headed toward the bedroom, the sense of closeness and companionship between them stronger than ever.

—

The next morning, it was Spencer who woke up alone this time. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. He blinked awake, momentarily disoriented before remembering the events of the night before. A smile tugged at his lips as he replayed the images of Y/N writhing in his lap, her warmth and presence still lingering in his senses.

He heard the shower running, a soft melody of water against tiles, and felt a thrill of excitement rather than the usual pang of morning urgency. Unlike at the wedding, this time he was delighted to know Y/N was showering in his apartment, sharing his space, and he didn’t even feel irrationally sex-hungry. Perhaps it was due to the satisfying first orgasm he had technically experienced with the help of another human being—the woman who had completely entranced him.

As he lay there, reliving the vivid memories of their shared moments, the sound of the shower stopped, and he imagined Y/N stepping out, droplets of water clinging to her skin, a vision of beauty and mischief.

And Y/N did have a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she turned toward the bedroom, a plan already cooking in her head that Spencer should have smelled from a mile away. Her playful nature was something he had grown to love, even when it caught him off guard.

“Hey, Spence?” she called out, her voice echoing slightly from the bathroom.

“Yeah, babe?” Spencer replied casually, the endearment rolling off his tongue naturally. Babe—he liked the way it felt, like a secret only they shared.

“I forgot my towel,” she announced, the words heavy with intention and familiarity. A wicked sense of déjà vu washed over Spencer, recalling a similar situation back at the wedding.

"That's okay, there's extra in—" Spencer's words were choked off into an incredulous cough as the bathroom door swung wide open.

Standing before him was an extremely nude Y/N, every inch of her skin glistening with droplets of water, her hair damp and cascading around her shoulders. She stood confidently in all her glory, a vision of boldness and allure that made Spencer's heart skip a beat.

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he was rendered speechless, his brain struggling to process the breathtaking sight before him. A flush crept up his neck as he took in the scene, his pulse quickening at the sheer audacity and beauty of the woman he had fallen for.

Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, thoroughly enjoying the effect she had on him. “You were saying?” she teased, her voice light and playful as she sauntered toward him.

Spencer swallowed hard, finally finding his voice amidst the delightful chaos she had unleashed within him. “I, uh—” he stammered, trying and failing to keep his eyes from wandering.

“Cat got your tongue, Doctor Reid?” Y/N teased, stopping just short of the bed, her gaze playful and inviting.

Spencer cleared his throat, his mind racing as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. “It’s like you’re testing the strength of my heart,” he managed to say, his voice a strain of amusement and awe.

“I suppose I am,” Y/N replied, pretending to ponder the situation as she placed a hand on her hip, striking a pose that was both teasing and tantalizing.

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with humor and appreciation. He reached out, grabbing the corner of the sheet to offer it to her, but Y/N shook her head, stepping closer instead.

“I think I’m fine without it,” she said, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she leaned over him, her lips brushing against his ear. “Unless you mind, of course.”

Spencer chuckled, a blend of amusement and admiration coloring his voice. “Not at all,” he murmured, reaching out to grab Y/N by the hips, his fingers eager to pull her close again.

But before he could, Y/N stepped back quickly, a playful glint in her eye. “Doctor, I need a towel, not your hands! I just got clean.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, both surprised and entertained by her unexpected retreat. “Y/N, you just walked out naked. You’re standing in front of me naked.”

“And I expect you, as a gracious host, to help me cover my modesty and find a towel,” she replied, her tone mockingly prim as she crossed her arms, making no move to cover herself any further.

“You’re really going to cover up?” Spencer asked, skepticism laced with humor as he watched her. The entire scene felt like a cat-and-mouse game, one he was more than willing to play.

“Duh,” Y/N said, her lips curving into a teasing smile that told him she was enjoying every second of his reaction.

Spencer shook his head, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You walked out here, completely nude, just to tease me?”

“An astute observation, Doctor,” Y/N replied, nodding in mock approval. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, delighting in the effect she had on him.

Spencer couldn't help but laugh, the sound deep and genuine. Her antics were just as endearing as they were infuriating, and he found himself utterly captivated by the playful energy she brought into his life.

“You’re something else, you know that?” Spencer said, rising from the bed and grabbing a towel from a nearby chair. He tossed it over to her, shaking his head in disbelief at her cheekiness.

Y/N caught the towel, draping it loosely around her shoulders with a victorious grin. “I aim to keep you on your toes, Spence.”

“Well, you’ve succeeded,” Spencer replied, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of challenge. “But don’t think I’ll forget this. I’ll get you back when you least expect it.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Y/N said, her voice holding anticipation and defiance as she turned to head back toward the bathroom, the towel trailing behind her like a cape.

Spencer watched her go, a smile playing on his lips. He loved this side of her—the confident, teasing side that could drive him to the brink of madness with a single look.

As she disappeared around the corner, Spencer settled back onto the bed, his mind already racing with thoughts of how he might turn the tables next time. He knew that with Y/N, every moment was an adventure, one that promised both laughter and love in equal measure.

—

Breakfast was eaten between syrupy kisses and crossword puzzles, everything Spencer had ever wanted. The kitchen was filled with the warm aroma of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee, a cozy backdrop for their intimate morning routine.

Y/N sat across from Spencer at the small kitchen table, her hair still slightly damp from her shower, a playful smile on her lips as she scribbled answers into the crossword puzzle book they shared. Every now and then, she would lean over to plant a sweet, sticky kiss on Spencer’s cheek, leaving behind a faint trace of maple syrup that made him smile.

“This one’s tricky,” Y/N murmured, tapping the pencil against her chin as she pondered a clue. “Six-letter word for ‘mysterious’?”

Spencer glanced over, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Enigma,” he suggested, his voice soft and soothing. “Though I’m sure you already knew that.”

Y/N chuckled, scribbling the word into the grid. “You make it sound so easy, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer shrugged, a modest grin playing on his lips. “Crossword puzzles are my specialty. Along with word jumbles, logic puzzles, and, apparently, pancakes.”

“Mm, and you excel at all of them,” Y/N teased, reaching for another kiss, the gesture sweet and unhurried.

The morning light streamed through the window, casting a golden hue over the room and making the moment feel even more special. It was one of those rare, perfect mornings where everything seemed to align—a moment of peace and contentment that Spencer cherished deeply.

As they continued to work through the crossword together, their laughter echoed softly, mingling with the clink of cutlery and the rustle of crossword pages. Spencer marveled at how effortlessly they fit together, how natural it felt to share these simple pleasures with someone who understood him so completely.

With each kiss and every playful word exchanged, Spencer felt the bond between them grow stronger, solidifying the foundation of their relationship. It was in these quiet, everyday moments that he realized just how much Y/N meant to him, how much he wanted this—wanted her in his life, now and always.

“Ready for another clue?” Y/N asked, pulling him back to the present with a gentle nudge.

“Always,” Spencer replied, his eyes meeting hers with adoration and excitement. “What’ve you got?”

“Five-letter word for ‘home,’” she said, her gaze softening as she looked at him, her meaning clear.

Spencer paused, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He knew the answer immediately, a word that perfectly encapsulated everything they were building together. “Vegas,” he answered, the word carrying a weight of love and nostalgia.

Y/N nodded, a smile spreading across her face as she wrote it down, her heart full. “I like that answer. But you’re wrong.”

They exchanged another kiss, this one lingering and full of promise, the crossword forgotten for the moment as they lost themselves in each other.

—

Spencer Reid was a lot of things: a genius, an awkward yet endearing conversationalist, a talented magician, a loyal friend, and a speed reader. But one thing he was not was sexually experienced. Despite this, he wasn't going to let that minor detail stop him from getting payback on Y/N during her stay. The morning she teased him had been a wake-up call of sorts, and he found himself eagerly anticipating a way to surprise her in return.

They hadn’t gone past kissing and last night when Spencer had come in his pants. He was perfectly fine waiting; they didn’t ever have to go further. He just loved being with her. He loved her. But that was beside the point right now. The point was payback.

When Y/N mentioned wanting to visit a thrift shop she had read about online, Spencer seized the opportunity to do some research of his own. He found himself diving into a realm he had yet to explore: the art of sensual teasing.

Specifically, Spencer found himself gravitating towards articles and forums on how to tame your brat—a playful concept he found oddly fitting given Y/N's penchant for teasing him. He learned about the subtle balance of power and playfulness and how to channel his own awkward charm into something more confident and commanding.

With the new information burned into his eidetic memory, Spencer was rather excited for Y/N's return. The anticipation thrummed through him, nervousness and excitement in his veins as he rehearsed his plan in his mind. He wanted to surprise her, to take back some of the playful control she had over him, and show her a side of himself that was both new and thrilling.

When Y/N walked through the door, she noticed Spencer wasn't in immediate view. "Spence?" she called out, her voice laced with curiosity.

"In here," he yelled back, a little breathlessly.

Y/N followed the sound of his voice into the bedroom, and what she saw made her stop in her tracks. Spencer was lying on the bed, shirtless and clad only in his briefs, his hand teasingly palming his cock, clearly getting himself worked up.

"Wh—what are you doing?" she stammered, her eyes widening at the unexpected sight before her.

"Sit down," Spencer instructed, nodding toward the chair in the corner of the room.

Y/N felt a rush of excitement mixed with nervousness as she followed his instructions, taking a seat with wide eyes, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before her.

"...Spence?" she ventured cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

"You have done nothing but tease and taunt me," Spencer began, his voice low and steady, laced with an edge of playful bravery. "I told you I'd get you back."

Her mind raced, anticipation and trepidation swirling within her. “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she offered, trying to gauge his intentions.

“Oh, I’m not upset,” Spencer chuckled darkly, his eyes filled with a promise of what was to come. “You might be after this.”

Y/N felt a delicious tingle run down her spine at his words, realizing that the tables had turned in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Spencer pushed his briefs down, feeling the cool air against his skin as he continued to touch himself. His movements were slow and deliberate, his hand gliding over his length, each stroke building tension within him. He maintained eye contact with Y/N, his eyes dark with desire and intent.

“Watch me,” he commanded softly, his voice a blend of seduction and challenge. The words were an invitation and a demand, meant to draw her in and show her the effect she had on him. He wanted her to witness every moment, every sensation, the pleasure he derived from taking control.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth dry with anticipation. She sat on the chair, completely captivated by the sight before her. Spencer, usually so reserved and thoughtful, was now fully in command, his confidence tangible and alluring. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, drawn to the way he moved, the way he seemed to revel in the moment.

As Spencer’s hand moved with increasing intensity, his breathing grew heavier. Each stroke was a testament to the electric tension between them, the room filled with the soft sounds of his pleasure. He was keenly aware of the effect he was having on her, the way her eyes followed his every move, and it fueled him, driving him closer to the edge.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Spencer asked, a teasing glint in his eye as he observed her reaction. His voice was low and husky, laced with both challenge and triumph.

Y/N nodded, unable to find her voice as she watched him. Her heart raced, a blend of arousal and admiration coursing through her. She was seeing a side of Spencer that was both familiar and entirely new—a side that was thrilling in its unexpected intensity.

Spencer’s pace quickened, his hand moving faster, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He let out a soft moan, the sound sending a shiver of excitement through Y/N. She shifted slightly in her seat, feeling the heat of her own desire, knowing that this moment was for her as much as it was for him.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Spencer reached his climax. His body trembled as he gave in to the release, the waves of pleasure washing over him with unexpected force. His release reached up his chest, getting mixed in the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

He lay there for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, the room filled with a charged silence that seemed to echo the intensity of the experience they had just shared.

Y/N watched him with wide eyes, her heart pounding, feeling the heat of the moment settle between them. She couldn’t help but be impressed by his unexpected confidence and the way he had managed to turn the tables so effectively.

Spencer finally sat up, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he met her gaze. “How was that for payback?” he asked, a playful lilt to his voice, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, a smile breaking across her face. “I’d say you win,” she replied, her voice tinged with amusement and admiration.

Spencer chuckled, feeling a swell of pride at her words. He had surprised himself with his ability to take control and turn the tables, and her reaction was everything he had hoped for.

"I'm glad you think so," Spencer said, his tone playful yet filled with genuine affection. He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes still fixed on Y/N, who remained seated in the chair, a slight flush coloring her cheeks.

“You really got me,” she admitted, shaking her head in disbelief at the unexpected turn of events. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer grinned, relishing the moment. “I told you I’d get you back for this morning,” he said, referencing her earlier teasing with a knowing glance. “Consider us even.”

Y/N stood up from the chair and made her way over to the bed, sitting beside him. She reached out and traced a finger along his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. “I have to admit, it’s kind of hot seeing you like this,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Spencer’s heart raced at her words. He reached up and gently cupped her face, drawing her closer until their foreheads touched. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere.

They stayed like that for a moment, savoring the intimacy and the sense of closeness that had blossomed between them. It was a nod to their journey, a reminder of how far they had come and the exciting possibilities that lay ahead.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, what’s next on your agenda, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer laughed, feeling a surge of happiness at her playful question. “Well, I think we’ve earned a little break,” he suggested, his tone light-hearted. “Maybe some dessert?”

“How about a shower?” Y/N countered, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Spencer agreed, glancing down at himself. “I’m sorry I made such a mess.”

“Are you kidding?” Y/N replied, leaning in to punctuate her words with kisses. “Dr. Reid, it was—” kiss “so—” kiss “fucking—” kiss “sexy.”

Spencer laughed, his heart swelling with affection and desire. He pulled her closer, kissing her swiftly, his lips capturing hers with a sense of urgency. “Okay, okay. I’ll go shower,” he said, trying to play it cool but failing to hide his growing excitement.

“Not without me,” Y/N whispered, her voice a sultry promise that sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine.

Her words lingered in the air, charged with anticipation. Spencer hesitated for a moment, the idea of showering together both thrilling and nerve-wracking. But the look in Y/N's eyes—filled with warmth and an unmistakable invitation—washed away any doubts he had.

“Alright,” Spencer said, a hint of mischief in his voice as he stood up, pulling her with him. “Lead the way.”

Y/N giggled, taking his hand and guiding him toward the bathroom. The space was small but intimate, creating a soft haze that enveloped them both.

As Y/N began to strip off her clothes, Spencer moved to help her, his fingers gently brushing against her skin as her clothes fell from her body. Throughout the entire process, he maintained eye contact with her, his gaze steady and filled with an electrifying combination of tenderness and desire.

The intensity of their bond was unmistakable, as if the world around them had faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own private bubble. Spencer marveled at the trust Y/N placed in him, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and admiration for the woman standing before him.

Once she was undressed, Spencer took her hand, leading her to the shower. As they stepped inside, Y/N turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right. The warm spray cascaded down, creating a comforting cocoon around them.

Spencer watched her, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. He had never done anything like this before—this level of intimacy was new territory—but the thought of being so close to her, of sharing this experience, was exhilarating.

It was a moment of discovery, a chance to explore the depths of their relationship in a way that went beyond words. The water enveloped them, washing away any lingering doubts or fears, leaving only the promise of what they could build together.

The water cascaded down in a soothing rhythm, and Y/N turned to him, her eyes sparkling with a playful challenge. “Can I wash you, Doctor?”

Spencer nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he stepped under the warm spray with her. The water was a comforting embrace that seemed to wash away any lingering tension or apprehension.

Y/N reached for the soap, lathering it between her hands before gently running them over Spencer’s chest, her touch tender and intimate. Spencer shivered, the sensation of her hands on his skin sending waves of pleasure through him.

He mirrored her actions, his fingers gliding over her shoulders and down her back, marveling at the softness of her skin and the closeness they shared. It was a new kind of intimacy, one that felt both thrilling and natural, as if they were meant to be this way.

The steam swirled around them, creating a cocoon of warmth and privacy, the outside world fading into the background. In this moment, it was just them—two people exploring a newfound closeness.

Y/N tilted her head back, letting the water cascade over her face, her laughter echoing softly in the confined space. Spencer watched her, entranced by the way she seemed to glow with happiness, her joy infectious and intoxicating.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, glancing at him with a teasing smile, her eyes glimmering with affection.

Spencer shook his head, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. “No, I need to do something,” he said, his voice producing urgency and sincerity.

“Oh, what is it, baby?” she asked, her curiosity piqued as she tried to read his intentions.

“Tell me to stop if you need to,” Spencer replied, his tone firm yet reassuring.

Y/N nodded, anticipation building as she trusted him completely, not knowing exactly what to expect but excited by the promise of his words.

Spencer gently turned her so she was facing the wall, guiding her movements with a steady hand until she was in the position he envisioned. Her heart raced as she felt his hands on her skin, the water cascading over them adding a layer of sensuality to the moment.

“Spence?” Y/N’s voice was soft, a mixture of curiosity and desire as she braced herself with her hands against the cool tile.

“Is this okay?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he knelt down behind her, his breath warm against her skin.

“Mhm,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper, the sensation of his presence behind her sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

With Y/N's consent, Spencer took a deep breath, grounding himself in the moment. He placed his hands gently on her hips, his touch reverent and full of care. The water continued to pour over them, the rhythmic sound creating a backdrop for the moment they were about to share.

Spencer let his hands glide over her skin, taking his time to explore and savor the feeling. He marveled at the way she trusted him, how she let herself be vulnerable in a way that mirrored his own vulnerability. It was a dance of intimacy and exploration, one that was both thrilling and deeply meaningful.

Y/N let out a soft sigh, her body responding to his touch with an eagerness that surprised even her. She felt the heat of the water mix with the warmth of his hands, the combination creating a heady sensation that left her breathless.

Spencer leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on the small of her back, his lips tracing a path of gentle affection. He wanted her to feel cherished, to know that every action was infused with love and desire. His hands continued to wander, exploring the curves of her body, his touch becoming more assured with each passing moment.

The tension between them built, a substantial energy that crackled in the air. Spencer let his fingers dance along her thighs, the touch light and teasing, coaxing soft gasps from her lips. His fingers found her clit, brushing against it with a feather-light touch that made her shiver with anticipation.

"Is this good?" Spencer asked, his voice a husky whisper, full of hope and longing.

Y/N nodded, her eyes closed as she let herself be carried away by the sensations he was creating. "It’s perfect," she breathed.

Encouraged by her response, Spencer continued his tender ministrations, his fingers rubbing over her clit with increasing confidence. He relished the way her body reacted to his touch, each soft moan and gasp fueling his desire to please her. Every tremor, every whisper of his name, was a reminder that she was here, Spencer was the one causing her pleasure.

Spencer couldn’t wait any longer; he needed to have his mouth on her. His desire had reached a fever pitch, and the thought of tasting her, of bringing her even closer to the edge, was irresistible.

With a firm but gentle hand on Y/N’s lower back, he urged her to arch further, creating a perfect angle for him to reach her core with his mouth. Her skin was warm under his touch, the water heightening the sensations that danced between them.

Spencer leaned forward, his breath ghosting over her skin before he pressed his lips to her clit. He started with a soft kiss, savoring the anticipation before letting his tongue trace a slow, deliberate path up her lips. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and desire that left him wanting more.

Y/N’s response was immediate and electric, her body reacting to the touch with an intensity that matched his own longing. Her fingers curled against the tile wall, seeking purchase as she let out a breathy moan, a sound that resonated deep within Spencer.

He continued to explore with his tongue, alternating between gentle licks and firmer, more purposeful strokes that elicited a symphony of pleasure from her. Her hips instinctively pushed back towards him, her body urging him to continue, to take her higher.

Spencer was more than happy to oblige, his focus unwavering as he lavished attention on her clit, every movement calculated to bring her closer to that exquisite edge. The steam swirled around them, creating an intimate cocoon where nothing existed but the two of them and the ties they were deepening with every touch, every kiss.

Y/N’s breathing grew ragged, her soft cries filling the bathroom as Spencer’s ministrations drove her closer to climax. She felt the world narrowing to this singular moment, the sensation of his mouth on her, consuming her completely.

Spencer, attuned to every shift in her body, could feel her approaching release. He intensified his efforts, his mouth working to push her over the edge.

With a final, fervent stroke of his tongue, Y/N shattered, the wave of her orgasm crashing over her with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Spencer held her steady as she came on his tongue, his hands firm on her hips as he helped her ride out the storm.

As the echoes of her climax faded, they remained entwined under the shower’s warm spray, the link between them even stronger than before. Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to her hip, a silent promise of his devotion and the joy they found in each other.

Finally, he helped her stand upright, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow in the steamy sanctuary of the shower. The warmth of the water mingled with the warmth of their bodies, creating a cocoon of intimacy that felt both timeless and precious.

Y/N turned in his arms, looking up at him with a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “You have something on your face, Doctor,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with humor and affection.

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Do I?” he replied, feigning ignorance as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“Yes, you do,” Y/N insisted, reaching up to gently swipe at a lingering droplet of water on his cheek. Her touch was light, yet it sent a thrill through Spencer, a reminder of the electric chemistry between them.

He captured her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to her fingertips. “Well, thank you for pointing that out,” he said, his voice a low murmur as he looked into her eyes, filled with a warmth that spoke volumes of the bond they shared.

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning into him as she savored the comfort and closeness of their embrace. “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice carrying a note of affection that made his heart swell.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered, the words slipping out naturally, carrying the weight of everything he felt for her. He had never been more certain of anything in his life, and saying it aloud felt both exhilarating and profoundly right.

“I know,” Y/N replied, her smile warm and knowing. She could feel the truth of his words in the way he held her, in the gentle strength of his embrace. Her acknowledgment without fear was enough for Spencer right now—a silent promise of the love they were building together, day by day.

Spencer held her close, relishing the feeling of having her in his arms. They stood together in the shower, the world outside forgotten, their laughter and the sound of the water the only things that mattered in that moment. It was a perfect bubble of intimacy, a sanctuary where they could be completely themselves.

Eventually, they turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping themselves in towels as they continued to exchange soft words and lingering glances, the connection between them as strong as ever. They moved in a seamless dance of familiarity and affection.

Y/N handed Spencer a towel, her eyes meeting his with a playfulness that belied the deep emotions they had just shared. The air between them was filled with a sense of contentment, as if they had discovered a new layer of their relationship that was both thrilling and comforting.

Spencer took the towel with a grateful smile, gently drying himself off as he watched Y/N do the same. Her movements were graceful and unhurried, and he found himself captivated by the simple beauty of the moment.

—

That night, they lay side by side in bed, Spencer reading aloud to Y/N as requested. His voice, a soothing blend of warmth and familiarity, wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room, highlighting the serene expressions on their faces.

Spencer was lost in the rhythm of the words, his voice weaving a gentle narrative that lulled Y/N into a state of relaxation. The comfort of the moment, the intimacy of sharing a book, felt perfect.

“Baby?” Y/N interrupted softly, her voice a quiet murmur in the peaceful silence.

“Hmm?” Spencer replied, not breaking his reading stride but glancing over at her with a soft smile.

“Can I meet your friends?” she asked, her tone light yet carrying an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

Spencer paused in his reading, a playful glint in his eyes. “That’s a tough one,” he said, closing the book and setting it aside, focusing all his attention on her.

“Huh? Why?” Y/N asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she turned to face him.

“Well, how would I introduce you? ‘Hi, this is Y/N. I saw her boobs, but we’re just buddies,’” Spencer teased, his lips curling into a smirk.

Y/N smiled knowingly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Get to the point, Ock,” she urged, giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow.

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the truth of his feelings welling up inside him. The words that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long finally found their way out. “Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, his voice sincere and full of hope.

Y/N pretended to ponder his question, her smile widening. “Depends,” she said, drawing out the word playfully, her eyes sparkling with affection.

He wasn’t even nervous this time. “Oh yeah? On what?” he inquired, a playful challenge in his tone as he propped himself up on one elbow to look at her more closely.

“Will you scratch my back before bed?” Y/N replied, her expression shifting to one of playful earnestness as she held his gaze.

Spencer laughed, a sound filled with warmth and happiness. “I think that can be arranged,” he said, reaching over to gently run his fingers down her back, the touch light and affectionate.

Y/N leaned into his touch, feeling the comfort that defined their relationship. “Then yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” she said, her voice full of sincerity and excitement.

Spencer’s heart swelled at her words, at the simple exchange. They lay there for a while, enjoying the quiet comfort of the moment, the room filled with a sense of contentment and love that made everything else fade away.

As they settled in for the night, Spencer’s hand continued its soothing path along her back, a gentle promise of the future. Y/N closed her eyes, feeling a profound sense of peace as she drifted off to sleep, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be—with him.

—

Spencer knew how much Y/N loved wine, and he wanted to recreate a little bit of their Napa Valley trip to make their introduction to his team memorable. After some thought, he decided to ask Rossi, his friend and colleague, if he would host a wine tasting at his elegant estate.

Rossi, always the gracious host and a fellow wine enthusiast, immediately agreed, delighted at the prospect of meeting Y/N. He had been eager to meet the woman who had captured Spencer’s heart, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

The evening was set. Rossi promised to prepare a selection of his finest wines and a spread of delicious hors d'oeuvres to complement the tasting. The stage was perfectly set for Y/N to meet Spencer’s friends in a relaxed and welcoming atmosphere.

As they arrived at Rossi’s grand estate, Spencer and Y/N held hands, a subtle but unmistakable sign of their relationship. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the vineyard, and the air was filled with the promise of a perfect evening.

Rossi greeted them at the door with his usual charm, extending a warm welcome. “Spencer! Y/N! So glad you could make it,” he said, giving Spencer a shoulder pat before turning to Y/N. “And you must be the famous Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Y/N smiled, feeling instantly at ease with Rossi’s friendly demeanor. “All good things, I hope,” she replied with a laugh, squeezing Spencer’s hand for reassurance.

“Of course, all good things,” Rossi assured her, gesturing for them to come inside. “Make yourselves at home. We’ve got a lovely selection for you tonight.”

As they entered the elegantly decorated living room, Y/N marveled at the surroundings. The room was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and a roaring fireplace, creating a cozy ambiance. Several bottles of wine were artfully arranged on a table, each accompanied by a description card and a plate of carefully paired appetizers.

The rest of the team was already there, mingling and chatting, their laughter filling the room. Spencer introduced Y/N to each of them, his pride evident in the way he spoke about her.

“Y/N, you remember Derek Morgan,” Spencer said, introducing her to the man who had become one of his closest friends.

Derek grinned, offering a firm handshake. “Nice to officially meet you, Y/N. Spencer talks about you all the time.”

Y/N returned the handshake, her nerves dissipating with each friendly face she encountered. “Nice to see you again, Derek,” she replied warmly. “Spencer probably talks about you more.”

“And this is Penelope Garcia,” Spencer continued, leading Y/N to the vibrant and colorful tech analyst.

Penelope enveloped Y/N in a warm hug, her enthusiasm infectious. “I’m so happy to meet you! Anyone who makes Spencer this happy is a friend of mine,” she declared with a wink.

Y/N laughed, charmed by Penelope’s vivacious personality. “It’s great to meet you too, Penelope. I love your energy!”

Spencer then introduced her to Emily Prentiss, JJ, and Aaron Hotchner, each of them welcoming her with genuine smiles and friendly conversation. It was clear that Spencer’s colleagues were more than just coworkers—they were like family, and they were eager to include Y/N in their circle.

Once everyone had settled, Rossi took the lead, introducing each wine with the flair of a seasoned connoisseur. He explained the origins of each bottle, the notes and flavors they could expect, and the perfect pairings he had selected.

The group moved through the tasting, savoring each wine and the lively conversation that accompanied it. Y/N found herself laughing and sharing stories, feeling completely at ease in their company.

As they reached the end of the tasting, Spencer caught Y/N’s eye, giving her a soft smile that conveyed his happiness and pride. She smiled back, feeling grateful for the warmth and acceptance she had received from his friends.

Rossi raised his glass, capturing everyone’s attention. “To new friends and old friends,” he began, his voice resonating with sincerity. “And to Y/N, for making our Spencer so incredibly happy. Welcome to the family.”

Everyone echoed the toast, glasses clinking as they celebrated the new addition to their group. Y/N felt a swell of emotion at the genuine welcome, her heart full with the realization that she was not just meeting Spencer’s team, but becoming a part of something bigger—a community that supported each other, much like a family.

As the evening continued, Y/N and Spencer found themselves stealing moments together amidst the laughter and conversation. It was a perfect night.

—

“Can we go for a walk?” Y/N asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she looked at Spencer. The wine had left her feeling a little bold and adventurous, and the thought of a late-night stroll seemed like the perfect way to end the evening.

“It’s nearly 12 a.m., Y/N,” Spencer replied, raising an eyebrow at her suggestion. He tried to sound firm, but he knew that tone of hers all too well—the one that said she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“You’re in the FBI. You can keep us safe,” she insisted, playfully bumping her shoulder against his.

Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle at her persistence. “Yeah, okay,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I once had a man tell me I look like a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

Y/N burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the quiet of the night. “That is so accurate!” she managed to say between giggles, leaning against him for support.

“We’re not going for a walk,” Spencer declared, crossing his arms in mock defiance.

Y/N’s laughter subsided, replaced by a stubborn look that he knew all too well. “Then I’m going alone,” she said, raising her chin in challenge.

“Like hell you are, you nuisance,” Spencer shot back, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. He shook his head, knowing he was already defeated. “Alright, alright. Let’s go for a walk.”

Y/N grinned triumphantly, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “You won’t regret it,” she promised, her excitement palpable.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Spencer couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Despite his earlier protests, he found himself looking forward to the adventure, the chance to share another moment with her in the quiet, starlit night.

They walked hand in hand, the world around them hushed and serene. The stars twinkled above, a canopy of lights that mirrored the joy and companionship they felt in each other's presence.

Spencer glanced over at Y/N, her face illuminated by the moonlight, and felt a surge of affection for the woman beside him. She had a way of making even the simplest moments feel extraordinary, and he realized he wouldn’t trade this walk—or her company—for anything.

“So, where are we headed?” Spencer asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Y/N shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere in particular,” she replied, swinging their linked hands playfully. “Let’s just see where the night takes us.”

Spencer chuckled, nodding in agreement as they continued their impromptu adventure. “Lead the way, troublemaker.”

They walked for a bit in silence, just enjoying each other's company. The night was cool, the gentle breeze carrying the distant hum of the city, a perfect backdrop for their midnight stroll. The moon cast a silvery glow on the path ahead, and their footsteps echoed softly in the stillness.

“You’re pretty bossy,” he teased, breaking the silence with a playful nudge. “Is this what it’s always going to be like when we’re married?”

The words slipped out before he could catch them, hanging in the air between them with a weight he hadn’t anticipated.

Y/N laughed, not even realizing the massive step she’d just taken with her response. “Yeah, probably,” she said, the words rolling off her tongue as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat, the casual ease of her reply settling warmly in his chest. Her laughter was infectious, and he couldn’t help but join in, the sound of their shared amusement echoing softly in the night.

“Good to know,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone light, even as the implications of their exchange sank in.

Y/N turned to look at him, her eyes shining with humor and something deeper—something that spoke of the future they were daring to imagine together. The thought of it sent a thrill through him, feelings of excitement and wonder at the possibilities that lay ahead.

They continued their walk, the conversation flowing easily as they navigated the quiet streets. Spencer found himself stealing glances at Y/N, marveling at the way she seemed to light up the world around her, her presence a constant source of comfort and happiness.

After a while, they found themselves on a small bridge overlooking a gently flowing river. The water shimmered under the moonlight, reflecting the stars above, and the scene was so picturesque it felt almost surreal.

Y/N leaned against the railing, her gaze drifting over the water as she took in the beauty of the moment. Spencer joined her, standing behind her with his arms caging her in comfortably.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Y/N asked suddenly, her voice soft and thoughtful.

“All the time,” Spencer admitted, glancing down at her with a smile. “Especially now.”

She looked at him, curiosity and affection mingling in her expression. “And what do you see?”

He considered the question, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his feelings. “I see... a lot of things,” he said finally, his voice sincere. “But mostly, I see us. Together.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with happiness at his words. “Me too,” she said, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers. “I can’t imagine it any other way.”

They stood there for a while, wrapped in the serenity of the night and the warmth of each other’s presence. It was a moment that felt timeless, a promise of the love and adventure they would share in the days to come.

—

Y/N had been with Spencer for a week and a half now, and their time together was almost done. The thought of her leaving weighed heavily on both of them, a heavy presence that seemed to linger in the air.

Their days had been filled with laughter, exploration, and the simple joy of being together. From shared breakfasts to late-night conversations, every moment was bittersweet evidence of their relationship—a bond that felt as if it had always been there, waiting to be discovered.

But now, as their time drew to a close, a quiet sadness crept in, mingling with the happiness they had shared. They both felt it, an unspoken acknowledgment of the distance that would soon separate them once more.

—

On their last morning together, they sat at the kitchen table, nursing cups of coffee and savoring the tranquility of the moment. The morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, but even the sunshine couldn’t chase away the bittersweet feeling that lingered between them.

Y/N looked across the table at Spencer, her heart aching at the thought of saying goodbye. She had grown accustomed to his presence, to the comfort of having him by her side, and the idea of returning to her life in Las Vegas felt strangely daunting.

“Do we have to talk about it?” Spencer asked, his voice soft yet carrying the weight of their impending separation. He looked at her with longing and resignation, as if hoping that by not acknowledging it, they could somehow postpone the inevitable.

Y/N shook her head, offering him a small, understanding smile. “Not yet,” she replied, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Let’s just enjoy today.”

He squeezed her hand, grateful for the reprieve, even if only temporary. “Deal,” he said, his tone light despite the heaviness in his heart.

—

They spent the day exploring the city, visiting the places they loved most. Spencer took her to the Smithsonian, sharing stories about his favorite exhibits with the enthusiasm and wonder that never failed to captivate her. They wandered through the National Gallery of Art, losing themselves in the beauty of the paintings, and then strolled hand in hand along the Potomac River, the gentle breeze carrying with it the memories they were creating.

As the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, they found themselves at a small, charming café, the kind that promised warmth and comfort with every sip. They sat outside, sipping coffee and talking about everything and nothing, allowing the moment to wrap around them like a soft embrace.

Y/N watched Spencer as he spoke, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he loved, the way his smile seemed to hold the entire world in its warmth. She felt a pang of sadness, knowing that she would miss these moments most of all—the quiet intimacy, the shared laughter, the sense of belonging that came from simply being with him.

—

That evening, they decided to cook dinner together, wanting to savor every last moment. The kitchen was filled with the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and clinking glasses, their movements synchronized in a dance of familiarity and affection.

As they prepared their meal, they stole kisses and shared soft laughter, the knowledge of their approaching separation hanging over them like a shadow. Yet, they refused to let it dampen their spirits, determined to make the most of the time they had left.

Once dinner was ready, they sat down at the table, candlelight flickering gently between them. The conversation flowed easily, a tapestry of shared memories and hopes for the future, each word a tribute to the connection they had built.

—

After dinner, they moved to the living room, settling on the couch with a sense of quiet contentment. Y/N nestled against Spencer, her head resting on his shoulder as they talked about the past few days and what lay ahead.

“I can’t believe it’s almost time for you to go,” Spencer said, his voice tinged with regret. He traced gentle patterns on her arm, finding solace in the simple act of holding her close.

“I know,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wish I could stay longer.”

Spencer nodded, understanding the pull of responsibility that awaited her in Las Vegas. “Me too,” he admitted, the words carrying a weight of their own. “But I’m grateful for the time we’ve had.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and longing. “We’ll make it work,” she said, preservation in her voice. “We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again.”

Spencer smiled, heartened by her resolve. “You’re right,” he agreed, his voice steady with conviction. “We will.”

—

The gentle chime of Y/N's alarm broke the silence of the morning, its sound a stark reminder of the day neither of them wanted to face. Y/N needed to be up early to catch her flight back home, but Spencer refused to let go of her, his arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

Y/N felt the weight of the moment settle heavily in her chest. They were both distraught, the impending separation looming over them like a dark cloud. As she lay there, feeling the warmth of Spencer's embrace, tears began to well in her eyes, spilling over as she realized how deeply her leaving was affecting him.

Spencer, ever attuned to her emotions, noticed the subtle shaking of her body and moved to hover over her, wanting to see her face and offer comfort. His brow furrowed with concern as he brushed away her tears with gentle fingers, his heart aching at the sight of her distress.

Before Spencer could say or ask anything, Y/N found her voice, though it was tinged with the raw emotion she felt. "I love you too," she said, the words escaping in a whisper that carried all the weight of her heart.

In that moment, Spencer's world shifted. The confession was unexpected yet deeply desired, a truth that resonated within him, echoing the love he had been holding for her. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her more passionately than ever before, pouring all his emotions into the tender meeting of their lips.

The kiss was an affirmation, a shared promise of everything they felt for one another. It was filled with longing and relief, the culmination of all the moments they had shared and the dreams they held for the future. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them in their bubble of love.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Spencer, pulling him closer, losing herself in the warmth and security of his embrace. It was as if time stood still, and all that mattered was the beating of their hearts, synced in perfect harmony. The room was filled with a charged silence, the air thick with the unspoken promises that hung between them.

Spencer could feel the rapid thud of his own heart, each beat echoing the depth of his emotions. He wanted nothing more than to hold her close, to savor every second they had left before she had to leave. Their breaths mingled, a shared rhythm that they had built over time.

All of their emotions were on display in that moment, vulnerability and desire intertwining in a dance that felt as old as time itself. Y/N’s fingers traced a gentle path along his back, a silent plea for more, for closeness, for the intimacy they both craved.

She reached down, her hand finding Spencer’s hardening length, the touch both bold and tender. It was a signal, a declaration of what she wanted, what she needed from him in that moment. Spencer’s breath hitched at her touch, his body responding eagerly to the invitation.

With a soft sigh, he nodded in understanding, his eyes dark with passion as he moved to accommodate her silent request. His fingers brushed against her skin, gently pushing down her shorts and underwear, leaving her bare beneath him.

The cool air kissed her exposed skin, but it was Spencer’s touch that ignited the fire within her. Every caress was deliberate, infused with the love and desire that had been simmering between them. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve with a reverence that left her breathless.

Their lips met in a searing kiss, a collision of longing and devotion that spoke of all the words they couldn’t say. It was a kiss that consumed them, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. Spencer’s hands tangled in her hair, holding her close as if she might slip away at any moment.

Y/N arched into him when he pushed inside of her, her body an unconscious show of the need that had built up over their time together. She wanted to memorize this moment, to etch it into her memory for the days they would spend apart. The feel of his skin against hers, the warmth of his breath on her lips, the way he looked at her as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Spencer’s touch was gentle yet insistent, a perfect balance of tenderness and need. He marveled at the way her body responded to his, every sigh and gasp a symphony that played just for him. He wanted to show her, through touch and whispered words, just how much she meant to him.

As they moved together, the world outside faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of them, entwined in a moment of pure intimacy. Spencer’s hands traced a path of fire across her skin, every touch a promise, every kiss a vow of the love he felt so deeply.

Their connection was electric, a powerful force that drew them ever closer, bridging the distance that would soon separate them. Spencer could feel the emotion welling up inside him, a tidal wave of feeling that threatened to overwhelm him, yet he welcomed it, embraced it.

Y/N’s hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. She felt the heat of his skin, the strength of his embrace, and knew that this was where she belonged—in his arms, lost in the world they had created together.

With every movement, every shared breath, they told a story—a story of love and longing, of dreams and promises yet to be fulfilled. It was a story that had begun long before this moment, and one that would continue long after they parted ways.

The crescendo of their shared experience built to a peak, an overwhelming wave of sensation that swept them both away. They surrendered to it, allowing themselves to be carried by the tide of their emotions, losing themselves in the depth of their love.

As the world slowly came back into focus, they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the link between them stronger than ever. Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his heart full of the love that had bloomed between them.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words a promise of the future they would build together, no matter the distance that lay ahead.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, her voice soft yet filled with unwavering certainty.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of their shared intimacy, knowing that this was just the beginning of the journey they would embark on together.

—

The goodbyes at the airport were tearful and depressing beyond belief. Spencer and Y/N stood at the gate, holding each other tightly, as if letting go would shatter the fragile world they had built together. Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her heart heavy with the weight of leaving.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Spencer nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “Me too. Call me as soon as you can.”

They pulled back just enough to look at each other, memorizing every detail of their faces before the inevitable separation. Spencer brushed a tear from Y/N’s cheek, his touch tender and full of longing.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll be counting down the days until I see you again.”

Y/N nodded, unable to find words as she fought to keep her composure. With one last lingering kiss, they parted, their fingers reluctantly slipping away from each other as she turned to board her flight.

Spencer watched her go, his heart aching with every step she took away from him. As she disappeared from view, he took a deep breath, holding onto the promise of their future together.

—

Spencer returned home, his heart heavy with the absence of Y/N. As he closed the door behind him, the silence of his apartment enveloped him, a stark contrast to the warmth and laughter that had filled the space just days before.

He dropped his bag by the door, leaning against it for support as the weight of the day settled on his shoulders. For a moment, he stood still, the reality of Y/N’s departure crashing over him like a wave.

He knew they hadn’t broken up—that their relationship was strong, built on a foundation of love and understanding. Yet, the emptiness left by her absence felt overwhelming, as if a part of him was missing.

Spencer made his way to the living room, each step heavy with the ache of longing. He sank into the couch, burying his face in his hands as emotions he had been holding at bay finally broke free. Tears spilled over, silent and unbidden, tracing a path down his cheeks as he allowed himself to feel the depth of his sorrow.

In that moment, he realized just how lucky he was to have someone who made saying goodbye so hard. Y/N had become such an integral part of his daily routine, bringing a light and joy that he hadn’t known he needed until it was gone.

He wiped his tears, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. The pain of parting was proof to the depth of their love, a love that would endure the distance and time apart.

Spencer knew he would see her again, that their paths would cross once more, bound by the ties of affection and the dreams they had yet to fulfill. Until then, he would hold onto the memories they had created, cherishing them as a reminder of everything they shared.

As Spencer got up to take his contacts out, his eyes stinging from the tears that had blurred his vision, he heard a knock at his door. The sound was unexpected, cutting through the quiet of his apartment and jolting him out of his emotional haze.

Confused and uncomfortable with his state, he hesitated. He considered ignoring it in favor of dealing with the immediate discomfort in his eyes. But the knocking persisted, each tap on the door a gentle insistence that demanded his attention.

Sighing, Spencer made his way to the bathroom, quickly removing his contacts and replacing them with his glasses. The relief was immediate, but his curiosity about the late visitor lingered. With his glasses firmly on his nose, he cautiously approached the door, his heart thudding in his chest.

When he finally opened it, the last person he expected to see was standing there, a familiar smile lighting up her face.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N said, her voice soft and full of warmth.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat, disbelief and joy washing over him in equal measure. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the sight of her, wondering if he was dreaming.

“Y/N?” he finally managed to say, his voice tinged with awe.

She nodded, stepping forward to close the distance between them, her presence a balm to the ache that had settled in his heart. “Surprise,” she said, her smile widening as she wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace.

Spencer’s arms instinctively encircled her, pulling her close as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The reality of her being there, in his arms, was almost too much to process. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent that always seemed to calm him.

“How…?” he began, pulling back slightly to look at her, his eyes searching hers for answers. He couldn’t believe she was standing there, right in front of him.

Y/N smiled shyly, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of nervousness. “Well, you see, I never got on the plane,” she confessed, biting her lip as she watched his reaction.

“You never got on the plane?” Spencer echoed, his mind racing to catch up with the reality unfolding before him.

“Nuh uh,” she shook her head, her expression softening. “I called my boss.”

“Okay…” Spencer replied, still processing the unexpected turn of events.

“I quit my job,” she announced, a note of finality in her voice.

“What? Why?” Spencer asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He knew how much she had dedicated to her work.

“I never liked that job anyway,” Y/N admitted, shrugging slightly as if shedding an old skin.

“You loved that job,” Spencer countered, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, but I can love another job too,” she said, her smile widening as she stepped inside the apartment with her luggage trailing behind, trying to act casual.

“True… but that doesn’t answer my question,” Spencer replied, closing the door and turning to face her, his heart pounding with hope and anticipation.

Y/N paused, taking a deep breath as she gathered her courage. She met his gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity and warmth. “I also called my building manager.”

“You did?” Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Mhm. Turns out, breaking a lease isn’t that expensive when you’re month-to-month,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes.

“You broke your lease,” Spencer stated, surprise and admiration coloring his tone.

“Look at you keeping up,” Y/N teased, her voice light and teasing.

“Y/N…” Spencer began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

“I actually have a question for you,” Y/N said, stepping closer to him, her heart racing with excitement.

“Yes?” Spencer replied, his eyes locked on hers, feeling as if he were on the edge of something wonderful.

“How would you like to have a roommate?” she asked, her tone playful yet earnest. “She’s a little messy, snores a bit, hates to cook, terrible sense of humor, oh and get this, she’s unemployed and homeless.”

Spencer’s heart swelled with emotion, understanding dawning on him as a smile spread across his face. “She sounds like a handful,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

“You have big hands,” Y/N replied with a playful smirk.

“I’d love to have a roommate… under one condition,” Spencer continued.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nightly head scratches,” he replied, grinning.

Y/N grinned, feeling a rush of relief and happiness at his response. “Deal,” she said, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around him, feeling the weight of uncertainty lift from her shoulders.

Spencer hugged her tightly, his heart full of gratitude and love for the woman who had chosen to stay. In that moment, everything felt right, as if the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

“You’re really staying?” Spencer whispered, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes, needing to hear her confirm it once more.

“I’m really staying,” Y/N replied, her eyes shining with certainty and joy.

And with that, they both knew that they were embarking on a new chapter together.

—

Spencer found himself standing in Y/N’s Las Vegas apartment, surrounded by boxes and the faint smell of cardboard and packing tape. It was a chaotic scene, but he was happy to be there, helping Y/N make this big move.

“Billie, this is my boyfriend, Doc Ock,” Y/N introduced with a grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” he said, extending a hand with a friendly smile.

“I like Doc Ock,” Billie replied, shaking his hand with a smirk.

“So, there’s two of you... great,” Spencer said sarcastically, throwing a look at Y/N before playfully rolling his eyes. “I’ll be in the U-Haul if you need me.”

“No, you don’t, big guy,” Y/N called after him, laughing. “We need some muscle.”

Billie chuckled, watching Spencer walk away with a theatrical sigh. They turned to Y/N, who was already diving into the nearest pile of boxes.

“Your boyfriend is quite the character,” Billie noted, lifting a box marked "Kitchen" with ease.

“Tell me about it,” Y/N said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “He keeps life interesting, that’s for sure.”

Spencer, returning with a box of his own, joined the conversation. “Hey, just trying to make sure things don’t get too boring around here.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Billie replied, flashing a grin. “With you two, I doubt boredom is ever an issue.”

The trio continued packing, the apartment slowly transforming into a labyrinth of boxes and furniture wrapped in bubble wrap. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and lighthearted banter as they worked together.

Spencer found himself enjoying the easy dynamic between them, appreciating Billie’s quick wit and the comfortable rhythm they had established with Y/N. It felt like being part of a team, and he was grateful for the support and companionship they offered.

As the hours passed, they took a break, sitting on the floor with takeout boxes spread before them. The conversation flowed naturally, shifting from memories of the past to dreams for the future.

“So, what’s the plan once you get to Virginia?” Billie asked, curiosity piqued.

Y/N glanced at Spencer, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Well, we’re going to settle in, explore the area, and just take it one day at a time,” she said, her voice filled with hope and anticipation.

“And maybe find a job I actually like,” Y/N added with a laugh, leaning into Spencer's side. “Something that feels right.”

Spencer nodded, his heart swelling with pride at her tenacity. “I have no doubt you’ll find something amazing,” he said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Yeah, and in the meantime, you’ve got Doc Ock here to keep you entertained,” Billie teased, earning a chuckle from both of them.

As the day drew to a close, the apartment was finally packed up, ready for the move. They stood together, looking at the neatly stacked boxes and feeling a sense of accomplishment and excitement for the new chapter ahead.

“Thanks for everything, Billie,” Y/N said, pulling them into a hug. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Anytime, roomie,” Billie replied, their tone warm and affectionate. “And hey, Spencer, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Spencer replied, smiling at the camaraderie they had built.

With the final box loaded into the U-Haul, they took one last look around the apartment, the memories they had made within its walls etched in their hearts.

“Ready?” Spencer asked, taking Y/N’s hand in his.

“Ready,” Y/N affirmed, feeling the thrill of the unknown mingling with the comfort of the familiar.

—

Spencer was filled with excitement and nervousness as he and Y/N drove through the scenic roads of Napa Valley, the picturesque vineyards stretching out on either side. The trip had been planned meticulously, a celebration of their one-year anniversary of dating and a nod to the place where their paths had crossed again five years prior.

“I can’t believe we’re back here,” Y/N said, gazing out the window, her eyes alight with nostalgia. “It feels like yesterday that we were running into each other at Adam’s wedding.”

“I know,” Spencer replied, glancing over at her with a warm smile. “It’s hard to believe how much has changed since then.”

They arrived at the hotel, a charming retreat nestled among the vines. As they checked in, Spencer couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as they were handed the key to Room 212, the very room where their story had taken a new turn five years ago.

“Room 212,” Y/N read aloud, a grin spreading across her face. “You didn’t…”

“I did,” Spencer confirmed, his eyes twinkling with mischief and love. “I thought it would be fitting.”

Once inside the room, Y/N wandered around, taking in the familiar surroundings that were now filled with memories of their first encounter as adults. The atmosphere was charged with a sense of romance and anticipation, the promise of what was to come.

Spencer wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked out the window at the sprawling vineyards. “I thought we could relive some of our favorite moments,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“That sounds perfect,” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace, feeling the warmth and security of his presence envelop her.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, Spencer suggested they take a walk in the garden, just as they had done five years ago. The garden was as beautiful as ever, the flowers in full bloom, their colors vibrant and alive.

They strolled hand in hand, the world around them quiet and serene. It was as if time had stood still, and the garden was theirs alone. Y/N marveled at the beauty of the moment, unaware of the surprise Spencer had planned.

As they reached a secluded spot where the stars began to twinkle overhead, Spencer stopped, turning to face her. His heart was pounding, but his resolve was steady.

“Hey, babe?” Spencer said, his voice carrying a soft hint of excitement and nervousness.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Y/N turned around, a curious smile on her face, the sunset casting a warm glow on her features.

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment as he dropped to one knee. The world seemed to slow down, the colors of the sky blending into a beautiful canvas that mirrored the emotions swirling inside him.

Opening the box, he revealed a stunning ring that caught the light of the setting sun, sparkling like the stars beginning to emerge above them. “Will you marry me, Y/N?” he asked, his voice full of hope and love.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and a burst of laughter escaped her lips. “You jerk!” she laughed, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. “Yes, Spencer, of course!”

Spencer slipped the ring onto her finger, rising to his feet to pull her into a tight embrace. Their lips met in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, sealing the promise of their future together.

The garden seemed to shimmer with magic as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them fading away. It was a moment that felt both timeless and fleeting, a beautiful beginning to the next chapter of their lives.

As they made their way back to the hotel, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her mind a whirl of excitement and dreams for the future. The air was crisp with the coolness of the evening, and the soft glow of the hotel lights guided their path.

“I can’t believe you planned all this,” she said, glancing at Spencer with adoration. Her heart felt light, as if it were dancing with every step they took.

Spencer chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at her words. “Had to let you redeem yourself for letting all of this go last time,” he replied, gesturing to his body with a playful wink.

Y/N laughed, the sound bright and joyful. “Does the ring come with a gift receipt?” she teased, raising an eyebrow in mock consideration.

Spencer feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “Wow, you wound me, darling,” he said, his eyes twinkling with humor.

Their banter continued as they entered the hotel, the familiar surroundings now holding a new significance. The same room where they had reconnected years ago was now a witness to their engagement, a witness to the journey they had taken together.

Back in Room 212, they reminisced about their first meeting, their conversation laced with humor and fond memories. It was a perfect end to a perfect day, one that marked the beginning of a new and exciting chapter in their lives.

As they lay together, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence, Spencer felt a deep sense of peace and fulfillment. He knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, bound by the love that had brought them back to this place and would carry them forward into the future.

@spencerreidsreads & @spencerreidsglasses this is for you two ,, lets be friends please <333

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stinkysam · 1 year ago

Text

Vinsmoke Sanji - Oh boy.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "Sanji falling for an ftm „he / they“ reader and feeling conflicted not only because that’s the first time he ever realized he liked a guy but also because he never even FLIRTED with a guy (...) And all in all just being awkward and waaaaay overthinking this just because he’s very much a confused newly discovered bisexual as well as „first time trans ally“ and is trying his best. Extra points: Reader immediatly knows what’s up and is just like „lol. : )“ because he thinks Sanjis awkward fumbling is adorable, before he puts Sanji out of his misery and goes „I like you. Wanna go out on a date sometimes?“" - anon

Reader : male (he/they/you)

A/N : Part TWO

Sanji likes women.

That's a fact everyone knows.

Or thought they knew.

So you can guess his surprises when he realizes his feelings for you ; a man. Not believing he could think such things with you !

Why is he caring who you're looking at ? Or why does he suddenly care about the way your eyes shine ? Or how you smile and how cute it is ? Why does his heart beat faster each time you compliment his cooking, your hand gently resting on his chest ? You could probably feel the way it was pounding under your palm.

He goes through a small stage of denial. And thinks he's being an asshole because he still sees you as a woman. Which he doesn't but his feelings make him think he's being transphobic and he absolutely hates it.

Because you're a man and he sees you as such. So when he finally realizes he's not transphobic but just bi he relaxes a bit.

And now he's scared. Because what if you don't feel the same ? Right ?

Or worse ? What if you think what he thought ? That he's being a transphobe and still seeing you as a woman ? What if he starts flirting and you see it disrespectful ?

Wait, how does he even flirt with a man ?

He doesn't know how to do it with any man, or with you, for that matter. You don't flirt with a man the same way you flirt with a lady. Right ?

Would you like to be called handsome ? Or perhaps pretty ? Or is pretty too feminine and you'd prefer handsome ? Or maybe you don't mind and like both ? Would you like flowers ? He wouldn't mind receiving them so maybe you wouldn't mind either ?

God, why is it so hard flirting with a man ?

He's really uncertain so he prefers to start with compliments. Your clothing, your hairstyle, your fighting…

He wants to start small in hope you see it as him being serious with you.

When he eventually starts flirting he's still really shy and unsure, fumbling on his words and stuttering.

The sentence he had prepared for you leaves his brain the second he opens his mouth.

But then !? You flirted back ?! You winked at him and invited him for dinner at a restaurant on the island you stopped at ?!

W h a t ! ?

He feels his heart burst in his chest. Just simply exploding. BOOM.

He's at a loss for words as he tries to smile. How does one smile by the way ? He's so happy he forgot. He's so sheepish he almost doesn't answer, giggling a little before finally accepting your offer.

Suddenly he's hoping he didn't read it wrong and you really flirted back.

"No, because, they could've invited me to be nice. Or maybe he also invited the others as well ? What if it's just not us two and I come with flowers like a fool ? I have to ask them. But will I look stupid if I do so ? …" He thought to himself.

"Um, just to make sure we're on the same page, [Name], it's a uh… d-"

"Date, yeah. Tomorrow night." You say with a small smile, slightly proud of yourself as you look into his eyes.

You swear you could see the way the air got stuck in his throat as he stopped breathing.

"Okay." He started, still sheepish. "Good." And with that he turns around and leaves. He doesn't know where he's going but he's definitely going somewhere. He needs a walk to calm down anyway.

Not that the food was bad the other times but you ate extra good this evening. You had plenty of choice and even Luffy didn't know where to start.

#male reader #m!reader #ftm!reader #trans reader #one piece imagine #one piece #one piece x male reader #one piece live action #opla imagine #opla x male reader #opla sanji #opla #sanji x reader #sanji x male reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x male reader #vinsmoke sanji imagine

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lihhelsing · 1 year ago

Text

Part 4 - Catfish Steddie

Author's Note: This part turned out to be bigger than I expected, so I also decided to take this to AO3. I'll update when I have the link, but I'll keep posting over here too, and doing the tag list at the end. Thanks for reading! Look out for two more parts after this one!

Now on Ao3

It's not that Steve didn't care that someone was using his face to catfish people. He knew, from how little Eddie wanted to discuss it, how it affected him. How it messed with his self-image and his ability to trust others.

Steve could feel it in the way Eddie always seemed to be ready to bolt from him. He offered something real and then pulled back again. It was a slow back and forth that Steve didn't mind, because he knew what he wanted.

Eddie. He wanted Eddie.

He felt the way he retracted every time Steve complimented him, hiding behind jokes or self-deprecating comments. Steve tried to reassure him, and he felt like he was winning.

But when Eddie called the catfish number, that he still had on his phone under Steve's name for some reason, it was like every inch they had walked towards each other had disappeared. Eddie retracted again, as if he was certain he was reading the situation right when he possibly couldn't be.

"I don't understand," Eddie says at first and Steve tries reaching out for him, seeing the exact moment Eddie flinches away.

It hurts more than he can admit.

"Eddie, let's talk about this," Steve says, but he can see it in Eddie's eyes, how he just wants to run out of there.

"Why do you have two phones?"

"It's not my phone," Steve says calmly. Eddie's not calm.

"It's in your house. Your couch!" his voice comes out a little strangled, and he jumps from the couch, the other phone still gripped hard in his hand.

"Can I see it?" Steve raches his hand, but Eddie shakes his head. "Please. It's not mine, I swear."

But Steve can see how his words go through Eddie and doesn't really make an impression. It's just words, especially if he doesn't try to see how crazy it would be. Why would Steve invite Eddie over to his place and not hide the phone better?

Why would Steve be so careless about the whole thing?

"Eddie, I swear. This phone is not mine. I have no idea what's-"

"I have to go," Eddie says, his hands are shaking and Steve wants to hold him and make him listen but Eddie is not in the mood to listen and Steve can't force him so he just nods, lets the fight leave his body and Eddie hurriedly gets his things and leaves.

Before closing the door, he drops the phone on the table and doesn't look back.

Steve thinks his heart could explode from how fucked up he feels right now.

It's not really surprising, but Steve doesn't sleep at all. He tries a couple of password combinations and when he gets to Chrissy's birthday, the phone unlocks in his hands.

Steve is scared as he scrolls through it.

Robin always seemed nice, even if they weren't all that close. Sometimes Steve even thought they were friends. He didn't have much experience with those and most of his friends were kids that he used to babysit when he was in high school, but he thought he and Robin could've been friends, somehow.

Maybe he was wrong.

But when Steve pulls on one of the only apps he sees on the phone, he feels…

He doesn't know how he feels as he looks at a profile with his picture and name on it. There are a bunch of chats in there and he sees himself flirting with lots of girls - and guys.

He doesn't remember mentioning to Robin he's bisexual, but she must've picked up on it for some reason. Steve doesn't mind, he feels comfortable with his sexuality but he doesn't feel comfortable with a bunch of people thinking they are talking to him when in reality…

It's not surprising that he doesn't get much sleep, really.

Steve is in his room when he hears the front door unlocking. It's still before nine and Robin doesn't usually come home that early on the weekends. She likes to spend the day with her girlfriend Chrissy and Steve gets it.

He listens carefully as she walks inside, doesn't even stop to take off her boots, so Steve hears the click, click, click as she moves through their tiny apartment. He hears rustling sounds and then.

"Shit," Robin's voice is low, muffled by the closed door. Steve thought a lot about how to do this and yet he feels sick to his stomach. "Where the fuck did I put it?"

He gets up and slowly makes his way to the door, opening it a little.

"Robin?" he asks. Her head snaps in his direction and she looks panicked.

"Steve? What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Is everything ok? You look-"

"Yeah, yeah! Everything's great," Robin forces out a smile. "I just forgot something Chrissy really needed and you know her, she gets really mad at me and I need to fix it, otherwise she will hate me forever and I-"

"I don't know."

Robin frowns. "What?"

"I don't know her. You never… Introduced us."

Steve doesn't know what he's saying, but neither does Robin. She looks frazzled, on the verge of a breakdown. Steve can't say he's not enjoying it, though.

"Well, we should. You know, do something, the three of us!" Robin is talking frantically now, her voice taking on a high-pitched tone that shows Steve how desperate she is. "Anyway, we can decide on that later! Don't worry about me, just go back to sleep! I'll be super quiet!"

She finished her sentence whispering and smiling at Steve, but he doesn't buy it. Her smile is completely fake and her hair is a mess, sticking up to all sides.

"Ok," he says, playing along. He moves to close the door and Robin isn't even looking at him anymore. She's kneeling on the ground and looking under the couch. "Oh, Robin?"

She almost hits her head as she looks up at him.

"Did you happen to be looking for this phone?"

Steve holds it out for her and she squints her eyes, processing, and then all the color gets drained from her face.

Steve can't say he hates it.

Robin fidgets nervously with her hands as she and Steve sit side by side on the couch. The phone is almost burning a hole through their table and Robin hasn't tried anything too crazy like grabbing it and running away.

Maybe even someone like her can tell when she lost a battle.

"So… Care to explain?"

Steve tries to keep his tone neutral but from the way she flinches, he knows he failed. Robin takes a deep breath, then another.

"I'm sorry," she says, not looking at him. Steve raises a brow.

"For what? Catshing people? Using my picture and my name without permission? Lying to my face?" He sounds so angry he barely recognizes his own voice. Steve is not a guy to get really angry, he's good at taking a punch, but this feels… Too much.

Robin shakes her head. "All of the above?"

The worst of it is that Steve wants to laugh. Robin looks outright miserable and his entire chest feels heavy when he remembers how Eddie looked at him, but this is too crazy for him not to laugh.

"I'm really sorry Steve, I didn't mean-"

"Can you just… Not? Just tell me. Why? Why me?" He says sharply and has to pinch his hand to try and get himself in check. He already knows there's nothing Robin can say that will make this ok to him.

It's not only that she lied to him. She used him to lie to other people. She hurt other people. But she made Steve think he was doing something wrong. She watched Steve try and try and try knowing she would never let him in because she couldn't stand the guilt.

Robin sighs dramatically.

"It started as a joke, I swear. When you first moved in, I kept telling Chrissy how you looked like a hot model from a magazine. How I had never seen a guy so good looking in my life and mind you I don't like guys. But you're… You know, objectively attractive."

"Uh… Thanks?"

"Chrissy found that super funny. She said you must've been one of those guys who were always hooking up with girls and I agreed. Like, it took me six months to gather the courage to ask Chrissy out and I still wasn't sure she was going to say yes, and then Chrissy was saying how you probably didn't have this problem because anyone would say yes to you."

Steve frowns at her. Robin has a tendency of rambling and talking really fast and Steve feels he's not following.

"So it was a prank?"

"I mean… Yes! At first. Chrissy and I wanted to see what it was like to be you on Tinder. You know, how many people we would match with, so we just swiped right non-stop. On the next day, there were thousands of messages for you."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and he sees a faint dust of pink on Robin's cheeks. She's embarrassed.

"Chrissy laughed and moved on, but I kept thinking about it and I started talking to people there because why not? It was kind of addictive, being someone else. I know it's wrong and honestly I have no interest in anyone other than Chrissy, but it was fun to like, make up this whole persona and just see what people would do. I was curious about life as Steve Harrington. It must be easier than trying to flirt as, you know, me."

"And Chrissy doesn't know?"

Robin shakes her head. "She thinks I dropped the whole thing, but I couldn't. So I got a new phone, I deleted everything from my phone and I just kept going. I wanted to know how long it would take people to want a date. I started analyzing data, and I thought it would be a good study subject. But it's like I said… I only have eyes for Chrissy. I don't even like men. It was just… A test, I guess."

Steve exhales. He has to be honest, this is way more complicated than he thought it would be. It still doesn't make it ok, and it still confuses the hell out of him.

"Robin, this is fucked up."

"I know ok? But there's just this… Adrenaline thrill. Of creating a personality for you, talking to people and seeing how they act, how they flirt with someone that looks like you. I never experienced any of that because I'm awkward and weird and I like girls. I told one of my professors I was doing it and he said it was fascinating. I couldn't just drop it. He wouldn't let me drop it. He kept saying how I had a chance of a lifetime with it and I just… How the fuck do I say no to that?"

Steve knows it still doesn't make it ok, but he's starting to feel sorry for Robin, so he tries to hold on to the anger. It's easier that way than if he tried to understand her. But there's still this one thing that doesn't make sense.

"But how the hell did that evolve into you setting up a date with Eddie? And that's why you kept telling me to not go out with him isn't it?"

And that… That felt awful. He liked Eddie. He had liked him from the start and because Robin fucked up he had felt a little unsure about asking him out. When she finally speaks, she's not looking at Steve.

"I didn't set up a date with him. I knew I could never do that because there was no way I could keep up the farce if I started doing it. But I should've been more careful. One of the pictures I set up on your profile had the coffee shop in the background. It didn't take a genius to make the connection, but I never thought he was just going to show up like that!"

"Well, that does sound like Eddie," Steve pointed out and he was assaulted with mixed feelings. An ache spreading on his chest as he thought he might never see Eddie again. Because of Robin.

"I panicked when I started getting weird messages from him saying like 'surprise' and 'stop messing around' and I didn't get it. I sent a bunch of question marks and Eddie never got back to me. I figured it out after you told me what had happened and, well, you know what happened next."

After that, Steve stays silent for a long time. Robin keeps fidgeting with her hands as if she's waiting for a death sentence of something.

Steve feels… So many things. He's mad at her, of course he is. But the frustration right now feels so much bigger. Even if Robin thinks it's easier being like him, Steve is tired of all that comes with it.

And Eddie was the first person in a long time that saw Steve in a different way. Sure, he might've started talking to not-Steve for his looks, but right now Eddie knew him. And Steve wasn't ready to let that go. He had no idea how to fix it and his head was pounding with lack of sleep and Robin was… Talking. Always fucking talking.

"Robin!" he said, his voice going up an octave and making her shut her mouth. He got up from the couch and pressed the heels of his hand on his eyes. "I'm just… Please delete the whole thing. I don't care what you're going to tell your professor, but I'm not your little experiment. I just wanted to be your roommate. Maybe even your friend.But right now I just… Just leave me alone, please."

Steve walks to his room without looking back and he only hears when Robin leaves the apartment, a couple of minutes later. Previous | Next

#steve harrington #Eddie Munson #Coffee Shop AU #AU #Alternate Universe #Stranger Things #Fanfic #Stranger Things fanfic #Steddie #Steddie Fanfic #Catfish AU #Steddie ficlet

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itsfairly · 5 months ago

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Saying Out Loud // Nanami Kento x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

cw: none.

notes: HAPPY PRIDE YALL! i normally post once a month, but lets pretend last post was the make-up for may and this one is june's. either way, fits the month, right?

liked this? show it with a like, reblog, and/or comment. each is greatly appreciated and celebrated!

"I'm bisexual," you said with a small crack towards the end of your words.

your eyes were constantly shifting between his, searching for any reaction or response from Kento as your fingers fidgeted with each other in an effort to calm your nerves.

it was so uncomfortable, so tense, so terrifying. you know this stuff is told at the beginning of a relationship, not months into it, but things with Kento were going so well. you've never felt so calm around someone, so loved in the most simple yet concrete ways, that a relationship could be so easy and rewarding as this one with him. you wanted to hold on to this stage, this moment where things flowed perfectly and the world seemed to say yes, these two are meant for each other. that's why you took so long to tell him.

after all, how many people treated you differently after they learned this about you?

sorry, its just that i dont want to date someone who will make me look over my shoulder to see if they are being faithful.

what? so you're just gonna leave me when you want to date a man or something?

does that mean we can have a threesome?

its was as if there mere mention of your bisexuality was a burden to them or some sort of fetish. it was exhausting and no matter how much you tried to be fine with it, you weren't.

it wasnt like you didnt trust Kento, he had been nothing but respectful to you and such a gentleman. but god, did those relationships screw up your confidence in this area...you thought you could keep this to yourself, but then again, he deserved to know before things went any further, to walk out if this wasn't what he hoped. you would get it even if it was unfair.

with every second his eyes looked into yours, taking in your words with that stoic expression of his that you could barely read at the moment, the fear was growing in your chest. It kept expanding until it reached your lungs and had to take deep breaths to appear calm about this when you were scared shitless. what would he say? why was he taking so long? he wants to break up, doesn't he? of course, he-

"what made you want to tell me now?" Kento asked, his voice calm as ever as if he was asking where you wanted to have lunch, making you wonder if he was even understanding the severity of your words.

"we've been dating for months now, exclusively even, and you deserved to know before things got serious," you said, feeling your heart race with every word you said. hell, you wondered how you managed to speak so clearly with these many thoughts in your head.

"but are you telling me because you want to or because you felt like you have to?" Kento asked, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes showing this concern.

that made you blink a few times. this wasn't the kind of reaction you usually received. you were bracing yourself to hear any apprehension, maybe for him to reject or twist your words, but not to see him worried for you like this.

"i told you, we have been dating for a few months and it would be fair if i kept this from you-"

"but its not fair to force yourself either." Kento interrupted you, his words having this firm yet soft tone to them.

his hands reached out to one of yours, covering it completely in his hold. a steady hold opposite to the fidgeting of your fingers, but in his hands, your hand had no choice but to relax.

"you look so stiff you might break, try and take a breath," he adds, his head tilting to the side as his expression softened.

you do just that, mirroring Kento as he also took a deep breath to encourage you to do the same, and while it did help with the nerves, it didn't relieve your confusion. he wasn't saying much on your coming out, he hadn't say a single word about it yet.

"i wanted—want to tell you because i don't want you to find out later on after investing so much in me and just...you don't need to waste your time if someone like me isn't what you were looking for," you explained.

of course you wanted to tell him, but it didn't took away how scary coming out is, especially when the person you're coming out to is so special and you want them in your life regardless. you didn't want to lose him, but you also didn't want to deceive him like this. maybe you did had to push yourself to say it, not wanting to ruin things so quickly, but you couldn't wait any longer.

Kento sighs, making your heart stop for a second. Was he disappointed? Infuriated? Angry?

But when you heard his words as he squeezed your hand, you were surprised to learn how far off you were...

"i must be awful at making it clear that you're exactly who I'm looking for."

suddenly, its as if your heart gains this new energy, beating and beating as if you just ran a marathon. your mouth feels dry as youfeel your brows knitting together, feeling as if this conversation was bringing more surprises to you than to him.

"you don't care that i'm bi?" you asked quietly, your hand squeezing his back in hopes you didn't hear him wrong.

Kento shakes his head, "i do, but not in the way you think," he says, a shadow of a smile coming to the corner of his lip as he scoots closer to you. His eyes look at yours, silently asking if that was okay. You nod.

"i care, not because it annoys me—i would be an asshole if that were the case—, but because i'm learning about you. The you that you feel most authentic to. While i am happy that you are opening up to me about something so important to you, i wished you would feel more comfortable telling me about it because you were ready, not because you felt pressured to. i'm sorry if i made you feel that."

you didnt know what it was at this point, whether it was the adrenaline or sweetness of the moment, but you knew Kento was the reason with all these words he was saying. he wasn't anything like anyone you'd dated before, he was being so sweet and just a dream. you never thought your chest could swell with this feeling while coming out to someone. it felt...easy.

you quickly shake your head, your turn to scoot over to him with your knees bumping against his. "no, no! you didn't pressure me in any way, Kento. its just that i know how much of a dealbreaker this is to some and i..." you took in a deep breath, feeling your throat hitch with this lump, "god, you have no idea how relieving it is to hear that."

you didn't wait a second longer before you wrapped you arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug as you rested your forehead in his shoulder. you felt his arms wrapped around you in return, pulling you closer to his body as his hand caressed your back in soothing circles that made your heart calm down.

"someone like you is special," Kento says softly, his breath tickling your ear, "you're choosing me over anyone else, and i feel so honored that you are with me."

you laughed softly, pulling your head back from his shoulder and looking at him with a huge grin. god, he made this so, so easy.

"kento, you have no idea what this means to me. No idea how easy it is to feel lucky right now." You said quietly, taking a deep breath before resting your forehead against his, "thank you, just thank you."

Kento hums, his hand coming up to your scalp to stroke your hair gently. hearing all your words and seeing all the emotions you wore on your sleeve made him realize how big of a step this was for you, how heavy of a topic this was on you. it didn't take a genius to know that this reaction from you meant that this situation didn't went as well in the past with other people, which made his heart hurt for you. Sweet you who thought about him first before herself when this wasn't about him.

more than ever, Kento would make sure that you felt comfortable in your skin and secure in your relationship. you deserved nothing less than that and you were worth investing in as you said in your own words, though he would much rather call it loving you. it sounded more accurate to what he wanted to do.

"you know, now i have to put more effort into our relationship," Kento said softly, a hint of playfulness in his voice, "after all, I'm showing you off to double the people, aren't i?"

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year ago

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about u | jjk

❝ this song is about a love that you can’t reconcile—wanting to make a home out of a person that has proved to you time and again that they are not a home; they are just a person. it’s about retracing scars, negative patterns, all with the silent belief that moments of communion and understanding might justify months of misfiring and regret. we’re all just trying to get back to that ‘first high’ feeling—an honest endeavor, however futile. ❞

✤ PAIRING jungkook x f. reader ✤ GENRE exes to fwb to strangers, college/grad school au; angst, smut ✤ RATING explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ WARNINGS toxic & self-destructive behavior (inc. jealousy and possessiveness). infidelity (with an external partner). reader is bisexual (which is not a warning but a general statement so the homophobes stay away) and there is a brief mention of coming out. two people who are both too honest and unable to communicate. swearing. cigarettes and alcohol use. kissing, some spitting, fingering, oral sex, protected vaginal sex. every time i asked jess to read this over for me she always came back with "jfc jewel" so i guess this is angsty. unhappy ending. ✤ WORDCOUNT 7.3k ✤ LISTEN TO this was based off of "winterbreak" by muna, but there are bits and pieces of the entire about u album in here, "everything" and "outro" especially. ✤ THANK YOU to muna for writing the album, @the-boy-meets-evil and @hot-soop for reading over this for me multiple times and putting up with all my brainstorming and my beloved @here2bbtstrash for the extra set of eyes. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi, thank you for reading! i cannot emphasize enough how much more sense this story will make if you listen to about u in the background. i would also like to reiterate that these two are maybe not all that likeable most of the time, but i hope they're still human. as i once saw in an ao3 tag, you are more than the worst thing you've ever done.

[ the first. ] You’d read an article once—something about the second time you fall in love.

It’s going to feel different, it’d said. The first time felt like a dream.

As you stare across the kitchen at Jeongguk, you think that might be true. The part about it feeling like a dream, because it used to be a pinky-lavender haze and everything that has come after hasn’t felt so good. Not a nightmare, but close. At least with nightmares you can force yourself awake. You can tell yourself it wasn’t real. You can pretend.

This is as real as it gets, watching him smile over the rim of a plastic red cup. Someone else’s hand on his arm. The girl it belongs to looks nothing like you, and you wonder if she’ll be the second time he falls in love. You also wonder why you didn’t stay home. You wonder about fault and regret and if either of them even matter. No, you eventually decide: there’s just you in Taehyung’s kitchen and Jeongguk on the other side of it and the result of a million decisions in between you.

There had been a plenitude of reasons you’d fallen in love with Jeongguk, but he’s undoubtedly beautiful. Soft, tinkling laugh; a smile that reaches his eyes. Not all that long ago you used to be responsible for both, so there’s a lingering, bitter sting beneath your wonder. Jeongguk is beautiful and no longer yours, and that’s enough to have you retreating to the living room.

Jimin’s at your side immediately. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of your head that does little to alleviate your guilt. Missing someone is always easier with thousands of miles in between you. All those distractions. Just like a nightmare, distance lets you pretend. Not so easy to do when all those ghosts come back to haunt you; when you can still hear Jeongguk’s soft voice in the kitchen. The music is so loud but you’d be able to hear him anywhere, you think.

Even places he’s not.

Jimin leans down, forces his way into your personal space. “Are you doing okay?” he asks, and his words are warm and wrapped in alcohol, but you nod. You’re scared you might start crying if you open your mouth. Afraid of what might come out besides shuddering breaths, which just makes you feel stupid. Baby’s first breakup, you chide yourself. Maybe Jimin can get you a commemorative ornament.

Taehyung is turning twenty-four and it should be joyous. It is joyous. People that aren’t you are laughing and dancing and pressing their cheeks together as they huddle close to take selfies. Someone you don’t recognize is cackling wildly as they wrangle Taehyung into a headlock and smear cake frosting on his face. Someone else is tutting and running a rag under the tap to wipe it off and then the frosting is gone. It’s hard not to draw parallels.

There one minute and gone the next.

Gently wiped away.

But the feeling lingers, doesn’t it? The tack of the frosting, all the love that transpired between you and Jeongguk. Sometimes you fear it’s permanent—not able to be wiped away with a rag run under the tap, not able to be wiped away at all. Just this burden you’re cursed to carry, because Jeongguk isn’t and can’t be yours but knowing does nothing to erase the past. Doesn’t help you forget. It’s fucked and it’s unfair, but that’s just the way it goes.

“I think I should leave,” you say, watching another scene play out in the kitchen. Jeongguk fills a cup and hands it to a different pretty girl. Everyone here is so pretty. Makes sense; so is Taehyung. Pretty people are drawn to one another like that. “Is it too soon? Will it be obvious?”

Jimin sighs, wraps you in a hug. Says, “Oh, love,” in a way that’s too sympathetic. Makes you sound too pathetic. “No one will blame you. These things are hard.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Not that you don’t appreciate Jimin’s reassurance, but sometimes it all feels a bit silly. Weren’t you the one to walk away? Call it off? Are you allowed to mourn the very thing you destroyed?

And Jimin, bless him, is so patient with you. Asks if you need a ride home and you wave him off, remind him your parents’ place isn’t far, that the cold might do you some good. You tell him you appreciate him and his night shouldn’t be ruined on your account, and you just laugh when he tries to protest, tell him to go get himself another drink.

“Text me when you get home,” he says, voice stern, and you brush that off, too. “I’m serious. It’s late and it’s dark and anyone could be out there—”

“Maybe I should walk you home, then?”

All those articles you read about the second time you fall in love didn’t mention this. Said nothing about the way a voice will always be able to turn your world on its axis and how to right it again. Said nothing about how to coexist with ghosts. Said nothing about what to do with all the yearning and the pain and the stupid, selfish strands of hope. There are paragraphs about an overarching, general grief, but nothing about the specific one living inside of you.

The shock on Jimin’s face is reflecting your own. It’s nice to not be the only one caught off-guard and stammering over their words. It’s nice to have a friend when it feels like your entire world is on the edge of collapse. “I don’t…” he begins. Swallows thickly and turns to look at you, an obvious question biting at the back of his teeth.

You know the answer.

You know that what you should say isn’t what you want, just like you know it isn’t fair, this thing you’re doing. Because you turn to Jeongguk and say, “Are you sure?” which might as well be a yes, because you’re selfish and suspended in this liminal space and don’t want him to go home with anyone else. You don’t want him to move on.

He shrugs. “It’s on the way.”

You say okay. Let Jimin help you into your coat, hide his face in your neck as he tells you to be careful, and that stings. You’ve never had to be careful around Jeongguk before. The two of you never, ever hurt one another—until you did. The kind of hurt your heart hasn’t easily forgotten, is still stubbornly clinging to.

Your heart wants Jeongguk, always.

You want Jeongguk, always, so you let him grab your hand, link your pinkies together. You let him lead you out of the house and don’t turn back to see who might be watching. God, you want to, though. Want all those pretty girls to see that he’s leaving with you. Want them to know it’s your name that’s branded on his heart; your name beneath his skin. For once, you want someone to want what you have.

It’s strange. The two of you have been apart for eight months, and there’s a lot of things you might want to tell someone in that amount of time, but you find it hard now. Don’t know where to start, which words to use. Don’t want to say something stupid, because Jeongguk is just walking you home but you’ve assigned a lot of meaning to it, and eight months is a long time to yearn for something and finally get it.

So you say, “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” because it’s something that’s true and easy to say.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away. Drops your pinky so he can hold your hand properly—fully, all five fingers intertwined—and squeezes. “Is it weird for you?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound nervous. Almost sounds like he’s smiling a little, giving you shit. He sounds familiar.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.” He asks why? at the same time he passes under a streetlight. Lights up golden and amber. He’s beautiful—“I don’t know. It’s just… I guess it’s just been a long time. We didn’t leave things the best.”—and no longer yours.

The Jeongguk walking beside you is not the same Jeongguk that walked out of your dorm eight months ago, tears staining his cheeks, the smell of a goodbye fuck still clinging to his clothes, his skin, sweat still dotting his hairline. This Jeongguk is sharper, more selfish with his laughter, and you wonder about all the ways heartbreak can change a person. How you’re changed for facilitating it. You wonder if Jeongguk blames you before deciding you’re too much of a coward to find out the answer.

“Was it that bad?” When you look over at him, he’s chewing on his lip ring, trying to bite back a smile. “You’ll have to remind me. I don’t remember.”

You stop walking, jerking forward when Jeongguk is left unaware and keeps going. “That’s not funny,” you say. “Jeongguk, that’s not—I did what I thought was best, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing—”

The smile drops from Jeongguk’s face. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says, and he’s hesitant to reach out and touch you but he does it anyway. Cups your face in both hands. “I know, it’s okay. That’s just—it’s just life, right? You did what you had to do, babe. It’s okay.”

You did what you had to do, babe.

Did you?

Jeongguk is selfish with his laughter but never his affection, and knowing that feels like an albatross around your neck. You have broken him so entirely, but he’s still kind to you, finds it a worthwhile thing to be.

His eyes go to your lips. Tattooed fingers dimple your face just a little more, dig in deeper. When you dare to take him in, he looks… different. No longer amused, the way he was just seconds ago; now, there’s something dark there. Longing, anger, hunger. Jeongguk looks like he wants to swallow you whole and make you suffer; looks like he wants to cage you beneath him and worship you through the comedown.

I’d let him, you think as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. As you smell the smoke that lingers, the sweat and the alcohol. I’d still let him.

It’d be so easy to press a kiss there. To feel his skin beneath your lips: flushed, still warm from the party, not all daunted by the bitter winter wind biting at your cheeks. As you lean in further, you wonder if it’ll taste the same. You wonder how much can change in eight months and if all those old comforts change, too. If it’s something inevitable.

Jeongguk moves his hands to your waist. Crawls his fingertips beneath your jacket and finds bare skin. Sucks in the smallest bit of air, and you would’ve missed it had it been any other time, but winter is always quiet and subdued. Always smells transitional, something dangerously close to hope and redemption.

And eight months is a long time to miss the feel of someone’s lips, isn’t it, so you think you can be excused for reaching for something you thought you’d never have again.

The first kiss is hesitant, testing; pressed to the spot just beneath his ear. Maybe you don’t know this Jeongguk, but you know the version of him you used to love—the one you still do—and you know the way he’ll sigh. You know the way his hands will grip tighter. You can still hear it, the way you used to kiss him there and he’d say, don’t start something you can’t finish, baby, and the way you’d laugh and always, always finish it. Can still feel the warmth that used to bloom in your chest. The love.

Jeongguk won’t say that now, you know. Wonder if it’d sound more like don’t start something you already finished if he did. He huffs a small laugh, more an exhale than anything, and asks, “What are you doing?”

And you answer, “I don’t know,” because it’s honest. You admit, “I guess I just miss you,” because it’s true.

A war wages within Jeongguk. You can see the storms, the white flags that are close to being thrown out. Can see the way his gaze flits between your lips and your eyes. What he’s looking for, you don’t know, but the storm rages on. And just like real life, just when you think it’s at its worst, there’s a break in the clouds: a tangible beam of silvery-warm light when Jeongguk tangles his hands in your hair, thumbs at the hinge of your jaw. Jeongguk tilts your head back and looks ethereal in the amber glow of the streetlights.

He says, “We shouldn’t,” and you nod, because you know and the anguish on his face is surely mirrored on yours, but when he follows it with, “let me take you home, let me take care of you,” you find it impossible to care.

You nod.

Everything is amber.

Eight months is a long time to go without the way Jeongguk kisses you: intentionally, demandingly, insatiably. He still tastes the same. Tastes like the first time you’d ever dared to kiss him, back at that party freshman year, tongue flavored with cheap liquor. Jeongguk tastes forbidden and feels like coming home.

You couldn’t say how you make it to Jeongguk’s apartment, but the way you stumble over the threshold feels familiar. The way the door is barely locked when Jeongguk crowds your space; picks you up, wraps your legs around his waist, presses you against it, hips moving on their own accord, rutting, all those little sounds spilling from his lips—everything is familiar. This is not just a practiced song and dance but something memorized. Something instinctual. You could be apart from Jeongguk for years instead of months and your body would still know what to do.

He carries you to his bedroom and you don’t think about who else has been between his sheets, because he puts you down so gently. Kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck—all gentle, powder-soft. Sounds like spring when you paw at the velvety cashmere of his sweater, pull it over his head, and he sighs. Feels like he’s breathing fresh life into something he shouldn’t, something long dead, but then you skim along his warm skin and your world is reduced to the way it feels like silk beneath your fingertips.

“I still love you,” Jeongguk whispers against your mouth, his inked fingers toying with the button on your jeans. Pops it open, pulls the denim down your thighs. Doesn’t bother pulling them off, only goes as far as your knees. And it’s uncomfortable, the way it’s bunched there, but the way Jeongguk says, “Fuck, missed you so much,” is so sweet.

Everything happens too fast.

Jeongguk leaves your shirt on. Drags it up and over your breasts and kisses at the newly-exposed skin. Sinks his teeth in, lets it hurt for a second before he laves over the marks. Settles between your legs and coaxes an orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Speaks his praise into the juncture of your thigh, breathless as he touches himself, strokes his cock with the wetness lingering on his fingers. Looks so, so pretty when he sits back on his haunches and says, “Just wanna look at you,” and makes it sound wistful and longing.

Makes it sound like it means something.

He’s still touching himself, still slicking himself up. There’s a split second where he goes to move and thinks better of it. Looks to the side before looking back at you. The storm kicks up again. “Have—” he begins before he swallows thickly. Dares to look hopeful, even through the squall. “Have you been with anyone else? Since…?”

You haven’t. Tried to, once—another stupid party, more cheap liquor passed to your mouth from someone else’s, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. They hadn’t tasted like Jeongguk; hadn’t felt the same. Two puzzle pieces that fit together all wrong.

Jeongguk has, though. Something you’d heard from a friend of a friend that you weren’t meant to. They’d called it a rebound, and it had bloomed so many ugly thoughts in your head. Five months had passed. Jeongguk was fucking someone else in his bed while you were in yours, torturing yourself over whether or not to tell him happy birthday. Whether it was allowed to or not, it’d stung.

(You had. You’d reworded the text a million times, plucked up all the courage you could find before you sent it. It’d gone unanswered, just like you expected it would, and you thought it was because Jeongguk didn’t want to talk to you. Thought you were digging your fingers into wounds that had yet to heal, so it’d stung but you understood.

But Jeongguk hadn’t answered because he was fucking someone else. Had someone else’s taste on his tongue; was panting someone else’s name into the dark. The embarrassment had been the worst part.)

Still does, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you lie. “I—yeah,” you answer. “Just one.”

Looks like it stings Jeongguk, too. “Right,” he responds, blinking back tears, and he’s got a lot of nerve, you think. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just—a condom. Are you…”

“Jeongguk—”

“Are you sure? Maybe this isn’t…” He huffs. Drops the condom on the bed, hangs his head. “What are we doing?”

You stare up at the ceiling. Nothing up there but the swirls in the plaster. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Hurting each other, probably.”

Jeongguk walks his fingers down your thigh. Grips at your skin, wants it to bruise. Wants you to have something to remember him by come morning. “Sometimes I’m really mad at you, you know?”

“Yeah, trust me, I know.”

He nods. Refuses to look you in the eye now that you’re watching him. “I still love you so fucking much and I’m still so angry. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I… fuck, I thought I was over it. I thought I’d see you and not feel a fucking thing.” There’s fresh ink on the back of his left hand. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but you notice it now, when he runs his hands down his face.

You also notice the way the atmosphere shifts, the split second in which his heartache bleeds into something else—resolve, maybe. Obstinacy. Like he knows how this is going to end and he’s going to do it anyway. He’s going to find the most painful part and press on it, dig his fingers in, and it’s just an inevitable, foregone thing. Something he can prevent and something he’s choosing not to.

“You fucked someone else,” he sneers. Rips the foil open with his teeth, flashing too white in the dark of his bedroom. Rolls the condom on like it’s an inconvenience. Like you’re an inconvenience. “Was it good? Was it worth it?”

You roll your eyes. Feel the way your breath catches in your throat, because you’re not going to cry. Jeongguk fucked someone else and is vilifying you and it’s hypocritical and ugly and unfair, but you’re not going to cry over it. You’re going to press the gas pedal as far as it can go, say, “Yeah, it was,” and find some wicked delight in the way his eyes squeeze shut, as if it can spare him from the pain.

The two of you used to love each other. Jeongguk used to smile down at you when you were naked beneath him like this. Used to lean in close and whisper that he loved you just as he pushed inside even though you knew, you could feel it in everything he did. Now, there’s no smile. Now, he leans down and spits on your pussy and pushes inside and doesn’t tell you a goddamn thing.

Not with words, anyway.

Because the way he fucks you says it all. Impersonal, desperate, bitter. He grips your hips and fucks into you frenzied and fast. Takes your hand and puts it on your clit and tells you to get yourself off. An inconvenience. Tells you he misses your tight cunt, tells you he misses the way it milks his cock, tells you he misses watching the way you come undone underneath him, but he doesn’t tell you he misses you.

There’s a moment, just after he spills into the condom and stays inside, just catching his breath, when you think he might say it. Might tell you he loves you around the lump in his throat, might apologize, might ask if you two can’t figure it out.

There’s only a moment.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. Lets the moment pass. Pulls out and ties off the condom and wordlessly gets up to throw it away. It’s the silence that pisses you off. The disregard. Jeongguk hates you for something you’d lied about doing that he’d done for real, so you can be wordless, too. You can treat him like an inconvenient, cheap fuck, too. You can get up and find your clothes and pull them on and let him watch, words biting at the back of his teeth, and you can tell yourself to feel nothing.

You can say, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” and not shy away from the resentment in your voice, because it’s properly placed. “You fucked someone else, too, so you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, Jeongguk.”

Eight months is a long time to miss someone, to play at daydreams. To think of all the things you want to say, the things you’ll do. In not one of them did you think about this: you, fully dressed and stinking of sex, saying, “It’s late. I’ll show myself out.”

Jeongguk, tears glistening on his cheeks, saying, “No, let me—baby, I’m sorry, please—I’ll drive you.”

A shake of your head. Jeongguk doesn’t push it.

Roll credits.

[ the second. ] Jimin wants to talk your ear off about it—the girl you’re seeing.

It’s new and there isn’t much to say. You tell him the two of you met at one of the student showcases put on by the art department and leave off the part about all of Jeongguk’s old friends being there, that he would’ve participated, too, if he hadn’t dropped out after you broke his heart. Leave off the part where you would’ve been there to support him instead, in another life. Leave off the part where it’d just been morbid curiosity: you, not an art student, wandering those halls to see if Jeongguk’s photographs were still framed on the wall.

“Is she nice?” Jimin asks, head nearly knocking into yours as someone shoves by him. “Fucking asshole.”

You nod. “Why would I date someone that wasn’t nice?”

Jimin, perpetually unbothered until he decidedly isn’t, sends you a look that he hides behind the rim of his cup. “Because you’re in your self-destruction era and aren’t thinking clearly.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You know I’m happy if you’re happy, but…” He pauses as he trails off. Tries to wrap his words in something delicate. “It’s pretty clear you still aren’t over it. That’s all.”

You snort. “That’s all?” you repeat, like it’s some small thing. Like it’s normal and fine.

“I’m sure it’s easier to pretend when the two of you are thousands of miles apart,” Jimin amends, and he must see how you bristle, stung by the callout, because his eyes soften. “Tell me about her.”

She’s beautiful and kind and smart. Smokes clove cigarettes and the smell is always clinging to her skin. You know how to make her come but don’t know what she’s majoring in—fashion, you think, because she’s always holding fabric swatches against your skin. Tells you what suits you and what doesn’t. Tells you which textures don’t work, what’s too warm, and she doesn’t need to tell you what’s too cold because you already know it’s you.

She’s beautiful and kind and smart and has no idea you’re still in love with someone else.

But you can’t tell Jimin that, can you? Can’t tell him about how she’d dragged you to a private corner in the gallery and kissed you breathless; the way she made you come on her fingers; the way Jeongguk’s name nearly slipped out of your mouth as you shook. Can’t tell him that she’s got arms full of art. Delicate patchwork; nothing like the harsh, bold colors inked into Jeongguk’s skin, but it feels the same to trace the lines.

You can’t tell him much of anything, so what you settle on is, “She’s nice—good for me,” and it doesn’t sound convincing to either of you.

Jimin doesn’t call you on it, though. Not again. Instead, he keeps his gaze steady, staring into the fire, the flames dancing wildly when you meet his eye. “You need to be careful,” he says. “You’re going to hurt her, too. Maybe worse than you hurt him.”

“Jimin—”

“Just be careful,” he reiterates, and all you can do is nod. What else is there to do besides wait for the inevitable crash and burn?

And it’s a little unfair, you think, that Taehyung grows older every single year. A little unfair that guilt won’t let you decline the invitations. A little unfair that you can still pick Jeongguk’s laughter out of a crowd. A little unfair that these hometown friends-turned-acquaintances still throw sideways glances whenever someone else touches him, as if he still has someone to answer to; as if they’re expecting something.

An hour. You’ve survived an hour longer than you did last year, and it’s not much but you’re still proud of yourself. You’ve had a drink, talked to someone other than Jimin. Managed to ignore the way Jeongguk is ignoring you; the way he immediately leaves a room as soon as you enter. Maybe it’s better like this, you reckon. Maybe it’s what you need.

An hour is long enough. Jimin doesn’t comment on the way your bones crack when you stand to leave. No one needs a reminder of growing older. He doesn’t ask if you’ll be okay, either; if you need a ride home. Instead, he stays quiet as he studies you, clearly wondering if lightning strikes twice. If you’re going to be able to walk past Jeongguk and out the door without making another mistake.

You can at least make it across Taehyung’s sprawling yard and to the house. You can dodge the sweat-slick bodies and the girls sitting in laps. You can toss your empty cup in an overflowing trash can. You can pretend the eyes on your back are well-intentioned.

You can make it to the bathroom.

Annoying, the way your phone has been vibrating all night only to disappoint you. Irrational. You scroll past the emoji-laden messages, the coy flirting, because they’re from the person you’re actually dating—the person you told you were going to sleep early—and not from Jeongguk. You should feel guilty. You should feel guilty, but the face staring back at you in the mirror doesn’t look guilty at all.

She looks tired. A little beat-down, but that’s life.

Maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve spent the last two years of your life chasing after ghosts.

A knock at the door startles you. Sends your phone tumbling to the floor, screen probably cracked to hell, and you swear under your breath. “Just a minute!” you call out, a little stunned from how threadbare you feel all of a sudden.

Still, the knocking continues, and you’re on your knees on this bathroom floor and all you want to do is cry. You don’t want to be on this floor in this house. You don’t want to keep putting in the effort of maintaining the facades of all these friendships. You don’t want to keep coming back to this town, don’t want to keep being confronted with the harsh reality of all your mistakes.

“Just a fucking min—”

The words die on your tongue, because there Jeongguk stands, all the air in your lungs dissipating at the amount of space he takes up. Even worse when he steps inside and locks the door behind him. You feel like you’re going to drown. You feel like you’re going to scream or cry or both, and you’re still on the floor, still on your knees, and it feels too much like penance when you look up at him. Feels like you’re groveling, praying for forgiveness.

You stand quickly, ignoring the rush of blood to your head, the way your legs tingle. Jeongguk still hasn’t said a word, doesn’t seem like that’s going to change, either, and it’s really all you can do to stay on your feet when everything in you is screaming to collapse.

Eventually, he says, “You’re seeing someone,” and it isn’t a question, not really, but it borders on one. It’s a question and a confirmation and somehow sounds a lot like he’s asking for permission for something.

“I—yeah.” You swallow. “It’s new.”

He hums. Steps a little closer. Leans against the sink. Darts out his tongue to swipe at his bottom lip before he tugs his lip ring between his teeth. “Yeah? Does he treat you well?”

“She,” you correct, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Jeongguk, at one point, had known everything about you, but not this. “And yeah,” you add on, barely a whisper, “she does.”

Part of you feels embarrassed. Jeongguk had known everything about you but not this, and you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty but it still sits there in the middle of your chest. Feels like you’ve been keeping secrets. Feels like shame, even though you aren’t ashamed. Feels like you’re awaiting judgment. But the surprise in Jeongguk’s eyes disappears and something else settles in its place—uncertainty, if you had to guess.

“Are you happy with her?”

You shrug. “Like I said, it’s new.”

And Jeongguk is as emulous as ever, because he asks, “Does it feel like what we had?” and you already know the answer is no.

“I’m not sure anything will.”

It’s honest; you hadn’t said it to appease him, but he looks pleased anyway. You’re starting to understand why so many people write about their first love. Why it’s such a powerful role to fill. Because you and Jeongguk are standing in a bathroom behind a locked door, feet apart from one another, and you think, I don’t think there’s anyone I will ever love more than him even though it’s been two years. You think, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this.

You think, I would try over and over and over again if he asked me to.

Later on, when you’re alone in your childhood bed and your face is streaked with tears, only your shame and guilt for company, you won’t be able to figure out who moved first, but one of you had.

Once upon a time, you had known everything about Jeongguk, too. You could recite his taste from memory, but it’s different this time. He licks into your mouth and it tastes like ash—nothing like the clove cigarettes your girlfriend smokes, but close enough that the parallel burns like acid in your throat. It’s close enough that you can keep your eyes shut and pretend again.

This time there’s no softness to be found. There’s just Jeongguk’s mouth pressed to yours, barely letting you breathe, not wanting anyone to hear. There’s just the sink digging into your back. Jeongguk’s hands gripping at your waist, pulling at the hem of your skirt. There’s the frustration and desperation of two people who love each other but will never, ever get it right.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as he spits into his hand and slicks you up, if you’re going to tell her.

There’s you, already too far gone, saying you don’t know.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as you’re clenching around him and dragging him with you to the edge, if you’d come back to him if he asked you to.

There’s you, already knowing the answer to this, too, saying you would.

But this isn’t that and Jeongguk doesn’t ask. When it’s over, he tosses the condom and does a half-assed job of helping you clean up and he doesn’t ask. He splashes water on his face and fixes his hair and he doesn’t ask. He tucks his cock back into his briefs and zips his jeans and he doesn’t ask.

Jeongguk has one hand on the doorknob and he doesn’t ask you to come back. Instead, he asks, “How long are you gonna keep doing this?”

For once, you don’t have an answer.

[ the third. ] You go even farther away for grad school.

You try to put more distance between you and Jeongguk, more distance between you and all the skeletons in your closet, but you just pack them up in different boxes and bring them with you.

You spend New Year’s Eve chain-smoking in your parents’ back yard—that same brand of clove cigarettes, because hearts are easy to break but some habits are not. Sometimes it’s a comfort to hurt yourself in the same way you hurt others, so you chain-smoke and you don’t go to to Taehyung’s birthday party because you weren’t invited and it doesn’t sting in the same way that it doesn’t sting that Jimin doesn’t call you once you’re home because he hasn’t spoken to you in a year.

The clock ticks down to midnight. Someone sets off fireworks. Absolutely nothing changes.

There are no half-baked resolutions. There’s no hope that this is going to be the year you get your shit together. There’s just you and the bed you’ve made for yourself; the autopilot you can’t—won’t—turn off, because you don’t know where you’re going anyway so you might as well just go wherever it’s taking you. There’s guilt and there’s shame and there’s baggage, but they’re all old friends. Those are old scars.

The sweatshirt you’re wearing doesn’t belong to you, and it does little to protect you from the bitter cold that bites at your skin. Jeongguk doesn’t belong to you, either, but he keeps coming back to you like he does.

“Mind if I sit down?”

You shrug, gesturing to the empty chair beside you. The small fire you’d built is down to its last embers, and it’s what you focus on, because you can’t focus on Jeongguk anymore.

“You weren’t at Tae’s.”

“Wasn’t invited.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve—”

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

He seems to hear what you don’t say. I wouldn’t have gone because I can’t be around you anymore. I wouldn’t have gone because I don’t trust myself with you. I wouldn’t have gone because I’ve burned down every good thing in my life trying to keep you. “Oh. Yeah, that—that makes sense.”

He’d texted you. Asked if he could see you. Just wanted to talk, and you’ve never cared much for symbolism, but nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve had seemed as good a time as any to let it go, so you’d said yes. Now, when there isn’t much to say, all of Jeongguk’s flimsy excuses are laid bare. Transparent.

“Was Jimin there?”

Jeongguk nods. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. Feels like it’s made of concrete. “No. We haven’t talked since last winter break.”

“Because of—”

How cruel, that you’d confessed to Jimin instead of the one person who deserved to know. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrug again. “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s permanent, just until I can get my shit together, I guess. Wasn’t fair to drag him into my mess anyway.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jeongguk says, and it sounds like something he wants to be true. It sounds like something he’s said countless times in defense of himself. “We’d—I’d do it if I could.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “of course.”

Silence creeps up again, so you dig another cigarette out of the pack and offer one to Jeongguk that he waves away. “Cloves? That’s a weird choice.”

“Just something I picked up along the way.”

He hears you again: They’re what she used to smoke. It helps me heal to hurt myself with something that reminds me of her. Sometimes I chain-smoke clove cigarettes and I don’t wash the smell from my hands, my clothes, my hair, because it makes me feel less alone.

So he asks, “Was it real?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, flicking the wheel of your lighter, words spoken around the cigarette stuck between your lips. “It never had a chance. Not a real one, anyway.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Know what? That I went away to college and started fucking women?” Jeongguk shrugs. Has the audacity to look embarrassed. “What are you trying to ask me? You wanna know if I keep coming back to you because I’m scared to come out to my parents?”

“No. I don’t know. I just—”

The laugh that escapes you is scorched and bitter. Sounds the way the tobacco tastes. “No, Jeongguk. I keep coming back to you because I keep hoping you’ll ask me to.” I keep hoping you still want me.

“I almost did,” he admits, and you can hear how he swallows around the lump in his throat. “The first time.”

“When you were a dick about me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, okay. You didn’t want me back, you just didn’t want me to be with anyone else.”

He huffs. “How the fuck do you know what I want? You’ve never bothered to ask.”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” comes your response, stilted and practiced. “It doesn’t matter what we want, because we’re just going to keep hurting one another trying to get it right.” You suck in a breath, wipe furiously at the tears on your cheeks. “And we’re never going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then ask.” Jeongguk startles, looks at you with wide eyes. “Ask me to come back for real, Jeongguk, and I will.”

A beat of silence.

Two, three, four.

Someone sets off another round of fireworks. A dog barks. It’s so cold that you can see Jeongguk’s breath each time he exhales, each time he breathes out instead of speaking. All the words he isn’t saying. And it’s exactly how you knew it would go, but it does nothing to tamp down the devastation in your chest.

You’d confessed your transgressions to Jimin and thought your silence to your ex-girlfriend was a gift, that it was sparing her the pain of what you’d done. Now you understand that someone’s silence can be the most vicious thing of all.

[ the last. ] Graduation looms. It’s the last winter break you’re spending at home.

Your therapist suspects you get your compartmentalism from your parents.

They don’t mention it. They see the stack of boxes and your bare bedroom walls and they don’t say a word about any of it. They watch you pack everything in your car and don’t offer to help. They process their grief silently, and when you can’t stand it anymore, you say, “I dated a woman my senior year of undergrad, you know.”

They don’t say anything to that, either, but it feels good to tell them. Feels a little like freedom and reclamation, like you can be who you are in front of others.

When you leave for good, you don’t want to repackage all those same skeletons.

So you meet Jimin for lunch and you take it in stride that everything is weird, that there’s nearly two years of silence to fill. You don’t ask for forgiveness and he doesn’t demand it of you, just asks if you’re doing better. “I’m doing the best I can,” you answer, and it’s human and honest enough that he accepts it with a warm smile.

Jeongguk is more difficult.

There’s no way to neatly box up that kind of baggage.

You’d intended to stop by his apartment to talk, tell him you aren’t coming back anymore. There’s nothing left here for you, you’d told him, and there was a flash of something. A there’s me, isn’t there? that had gone unsaid, destined for the same fate as a million other unspoken words between you.

Because there is him, but there’s also the way you’re desperately trying to claw back into something resembling normalcy. You’d lost yourself when you also lost Jeongguk, and you need to figure out who you are without him. You need to know who you are once you stop running and let your demons catch up with you. You need to hear what they have to say.

Maybe Jeongguk had said it best last year—“It’s not that easy. I’d do it if I could.”—because you’re nothing if not predictable and self-destructive.

You’re nothing if not naked and on your back beneath him, your fingers threaded through his hair as he rocks his hips into you, more tender than you deserve. His lips are ghosting along your skin and every press feels like a brand. Feels like he’s both making a mockery of you and declaring you ruined for anyone who might come after him. Feels like you’ll love him until you die.

(Some version of you must exist outside of Jeongguk’s grasp—outside of his orbit, his bed—but right now, as he twines your fingers together and pins them above your head, you can’t figure out who she might be.)

Eight months had been a long time to think of all the things you wanted to say, and four years is worse. Four years, and you still can’t bring yourself to ask him to try again, but there’s nothing after this, nothing to lose, so your voice is hoarse and raw when you say, “Jeongguk,” and he groans a little, nips at the column of your throat because he loves the way you say his name. “Jeongguk,” you repeat, because he senses the urgency, hears what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah, baby, say it. Whatever it is, tell me.”

He rolls his hips faster. Before, he would’ve tried to prolong the ending, but he’s hurtling towards it now. There’s nothing after this, you know, but you need the confirmation. You need to finally put all of this to rest. “I want to—” His cock strokes someplace that whites out your vision. “Fuck, want to—want you to come with me.”

He laughs, full of himself, probably smirking out the side of his mouth. “Keep squeezing me like that and I will soon.”

“No,” you insist, shocked at the conviction in your voice, “when I leave. Come with me.”

Everything slows. Jeongguk pulls back, moves his hands to cover himself, and there’s nothing but cold confusion in his absence. “What?”

“I didn’t ask you before. Last year. I just—I left it up to you, and you’re right, I didn’t ask what you wanted, but I didn’t tell you what I wanted, either. But I’m telling you now. I’m asking—”

There was never going to be anything after this.

Jeongguk’s silence says it all.

The way he pulls out and rolls you onto your stomach. The way he fucks as fast and as hard as he can. The way he used to love you openly and honestly and now holds whatever’s left close to his chest like it’s something to be ashamed of.

Someone’s silence can always be the most vicious thing of all.

Roll credits.

thank you so much for reading, and an additional thank you in advance if you decide to reblog my work. as always, my inbox is always open for any feedback! ♡

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic

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hardboiledleggs · 2 years ago

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Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson Part 2

Part 1 Here!

I could kiss all of you consensually on the mouth, you were so nice about part 1 I cried several times. Here is the long awaited part 2, which I am considering turning into a full length fic on ao3 so if anyone wants to follow me there here it is! Sorry it is so short! This is mostly a stepping stone for my plan for part 3. As always, if anyone would like to be added to my permanent Steddie fic tag list or the tag list for this fic specifically, let me know below :)

~~~

As a general rule, Steve considers himself a confident person. Unfortunately, there’s something about Eddie Munson that reduces him to a nervous, sweaty wreck with decidedly NOT perfect hair. Every time he pulls the now well-worn scrap of paper with Eddie’s number from his pocket, his heart rate jumps to an unhealthy level, and he stuffs it away. This has, of course, royally pissed off Robin Buckley.

“I mean, Jesus Christ, Steve. What is the point of getting a cute guy’s number if you aren’t even going to use it? I think I would have called him more than you have by now, and he doesn’t even have boobies!”

Steve crosses his arms and lets out a disgruntled huff. “Look, I told him some seriously personal stuff, okay? I doubt he even wants me to call him.”

Robin shoots him a deadly glare as she restocks the chocolate chunk ice cream, her stern look tempered slightly by her ridiculous sailor outfit. Scoops Ahoy is an okay place to work, all things considered, but Steve has considered reporting the ice cream shop to the Better Business Bureau for the uniforms alone.

“Why the hell would he give you his number, then? Please don’t be a dingus,” she snorts as she wipes an arm across her sweaty forehead.

“He probably felt bad for me, okay? Seriously. If I had told you that story, you wouldn’t be like ‘Wow, can’t wait to jump his bones!’ You’d think I was a pathetic dude with daddy issues,” Steve groans, flopping forward against the counter. His track record with guys had been, so far, awful. It was hard enough to be a bisexual man in the 80s, let alone in a small town in Indiana. One wrong move, the wrong word, and he could be arrested or worse. It didn’t give a guy a whole lot of confidence.

“For the record, I wouldn’t have wanted to jump your bones regardless, but whatever,” Robin says dryly. Her eyes are soft as she catches his arm. “Just don’t let yourself lose out on something nice ‘cause you’re scared, okay?”

Steve doesn’t look at her as he tugs out of her grip and starts organizing the spoons.

~~~

Eddie Munson has always hated places like the Starcourt Mall. There are always way too many people, too much erroneous noise, and the workers start to follow you around the store if you start touching everything that looks like it might be soft. However, even he cannot deny the hypnotic pull of a brand-new Tower Records shop.

Weaving in between soccer moms and bubblegum-chewing teenage girls, he skids around a corner and gazes above the heads of the crowd, trying to spot the Tower Records logo amongst the perms. Nothing catches his eye except a blue and red neon sign flashing ‘Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor’ across the mall. Figuring there were worse places to take a break and get directions, Eddie shrugs and fights his way through the crowd and steps into the nautical ice cream parlor.

The man at the counter has his back to Eddie, but upon hearing Eddie’s boots squeak on the linoleum he turns and begins to recite sullenly, as if from a drilling manual; “Ahoy, are you ready to set off into an ocean of flavor with me as your capt-“

Steve snaps his mouth shut when he makes eye contact with Eddie. In comparison, Eddie’s mouth is gaping like a beached trout, and he doesn’t seem to have the capacity to shut it, because Steve, “tattoo boy who he had moaned and whined about to Argyle for literal hours” Steve, is standing right in front of him in tiny shorts and a sailor’s hat and is that lip gloss?

His face is on fire, smoke might be coming out of his ears, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the shorts. Apparently, the Scoops Ahoy motto was “Serve ice cream and invade Eddie Munson’s wet dreams for at least a month!” Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot, his discomfort growing as the silence stretches longer. It had been days since they’d met, and Steve hadn’t called once. Wayne had gotten so sick of him asking if he had any messages that he’d threatened to tear the phone out of the wall.

“Well, hiya Stevie. How’d that ink turn out? Thought I might get to hear about it after you left, but I think my phone might be busted? That, or my uncle is lying to me about not getting any messages.” There. False bravado. The tried and true method of any queer man about to get rejected by an obscenely handsome ice cream salesman.

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts. His hands twitch, as though he wanted to reach across the grimy counter but thought better of it at the last second. “I didn’t know how to call you and… so I didn’t.”

His face is ashen, full lips parted as he breathes. Eddie thinks he might never see a more beautiful thing in his life, but he takes a step back, a false grin stretching his lips into a practiced and careful expression.

“Hey, man, no big deal. I misread things. It happens! You were darling, and I am well-known for my sweet tooth.” He smiles a real smile this time and holds out his hand to shake. “No hard feelings as long as you can point me in the direction of the new record store?”

Steve stares at his ring-clad fingers for too long before he turns and starts to wrestle with the junky cash register on the counter. Something snaps as he yanks it open and fumbles for the receipt paper, tearing off a sheet and beginning to scribble furiously. Eddie is just thinking to himself that this guy must think he’s too stupid to remember one or two sentences of directions when the paper is shoved into his outstretched hand. Steve has scrawled his full name and number in thin, slanted handwriting.

A bubble of hope rises in Eddie’s chest as he stares at the piece of paper in his hand. This isn’t platonic with a capital P. Or at least if it is, the universe is mean and should reevaluate how it operates.

“This way you can call me, because I’m a total chickenshit and am definitely terrified of you,” Steve declares as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “Or if I fucked it up that’s whatever and I get it. The record store is like 15 stores down to the right.” He looks like a puppy someone had kicked and left out in the rain.

“When is your shift over? Or rather, when will you be home and sitting by the phone?” Eddie asks in a breathless rush.

Steve’s face brightens with a shy but triumphant smile. “I’m off at 7, home by 7:15!”

“7:30, loverboy. I need a ride.” The pane of frosted glass behind Steve slides open, revealing a pretty girl in a similar uniform to her coworker, although her outfit isn’t having quite the same effect on Eddie as Steve’s is. Grinning like a hyena, she pulls a whiteboard out from behind her and uncaps a marker, putting a single tally in a column labeled “You Rule” that has thus far remained empty. Steve tosses a waffle cone at her head, which she ducks, before sliding the panel shut once more.

“7:30 then. Got it. Expect my call, big boy,” Eddie bows theatrically. He steps backward, attempting a suave exit, and spins around before he can say anything else horrific and embarrassing like “Need a skipper for your next voyage?”

As he is hurrying out of the shop, he hears a crash and a shout of “Buckley, you are so dead!” Eddie grins and stares down at the phone number in his hand, trip to the record store completely forgotten. Steve Harrington had no idea what he was signing up for.

~~~

If I tag you in error I am so sorry!! Please message me or comment and I will take you off no hard feelings I am super frazzled by the response to this series and very likely have screwed up this list. If I missed your name feel free to absolutely roast me in the comments :) I can take the heat

Tag list (Holy moly here we go) - @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @throwbackthrowaway @vampireinthesun @mightbeasleep @steve-the-hairrington @nelotegreitic @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thehumblefigtree @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @idsellmysoulforsteddie @toobluebrunette @azreadytodie @rainydays35 @luna-munson83 @sl1187 @artiststarme @bethebitch @ultrarainbowunicorn100 @doilooklikebees @this-is-moony-lovegood @impeachy @grimmfitzz @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @maya-custodios-dionach @brassreign @kurumeki @zerokrox-blog @starxlark @chaoticvictorianspirit @2nd-star-2-the-rhgt @adankrivervalleynearyou @yikes-a-bee @e0509 @babyblender @shinekocreator @hope-can-be-your-sword @hellomynameismoo @knitsforthetrail @thegingerrapunzel @blindbisexualgoose @4nemo1egend @piningapple @aceflavouredyougurt @cyranyx @fruitandbubbles @eyesofshinigami @thefreakandthehair @prettyboyandthemetalhead @void-library @steddio @jjoesjonas @vecnuthy @twiggspots @spectrum-spectre @henderdads @sweetcreaturetm @morning-rituals @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever

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strawberry-seob · 2 months ago

Text

baby you're my major, baby you're my angel ✩ kjs

📖pairing: afab!reader x jongseob, and afab!reader x theo/taeyang; keeho x jiung (as side characters)

📖genre: au, university au, friends with benefits, age gap (reader is older), fluff, slow burn, eventual smut

📖rating: 18+

📖 summary: you're going back to university to get your master's degree after taking a years-long break, and you develop close friendships with your classmates shota and taeyang. you also develop a particularly confusing and complicated relationship with jongseob, the library clerk

📖warnings: smoking, bisexual jongseob, bisexual taeyang, bisexual reader, multiple queer characters, college parties, three-way makeout (mmf), vaginal sex, tipsy sex, regrettable hookup, minor hurt/comfort, crying during sex, cunnilingus, blow job, snowballing

📖word count: 37.8k

Chapter 1

“You’re still doing winged eyeliner? Bitch, please,” Keeho said, voice dripping with pretension.

You turned from your bathroom mirror to where he was standing, entirely too close to you, and glared at him. “ Bitch , at least I’m even putting on makeup. Now leave me the fuck alone,” you snapped back, surprising yourself with the sharpness of your tone.

“Hey hey, I was just kidding, you look super pretty. You always do. Wait,” he said, grabbing your shoulders and turning your body to face him, hands strong and steady, staring at you from behind his glasses, maroon bangs messy across his forehead. “You’re not seriously nervous, are you?” he asked, softening his voice.

“No,” you replied with mock confidence, but your voice cracked, betraying you, and tears began to brim your eyes. “ Fuck, ” you hissed as you looked up, avoiding eye contact, and fanned your eyes. “I do not want to have to redo my makeup, outdated as it is,” you said, glaring at Keeho, who still had his hands on your shoulders.

He gave you a pitying smile and rubbed your arms briskly. “I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t realize you were actually so jittery. You’ll do great. You’ve done this college thing before, remember? You did fine before, and you’ll do fine again. What are you even so scared of?”

“Mean college students,” you mumbled, pouting your lips, realizing how ridiculous you sounded. Keeho burst out laughing and slapped your shoulder. “How are they gonna bully you when you’re older than most of them? You’re so silly, dude.”

“That’s my point, I feel like I’ll be the odd one out and it’ll just… I dunno. I just feel like it’ll be weird.”

Keeho sighed and rested his hand on his hip, cocking his head to the side. “You’re not old, you’re just old er . You’ve gotta trust me, it won’t be as weird as you think. And if it is, you know I’ll kick some obnoxious college kid ass.”

You laughed at this comment, feeling your shoulders lighten.

You shared an unlikely bond with your best friend and roommate Keeho, whose life couldn’t be more different from yours. While you had been working odd, low-paying jobs ever since graduating with your bachelor’s years prior, he’d found his calling in the world of fashion, modeling, and internet influencer culture. He had the perfect personality for it: he was energetic, sassy, and incredibly charismatic. You couldn’t help but envy him, although you’d never admitted it to him. You just felt like you were waiting to find something that matched you as well– something that didn’t feel like such a soul-sucking waste of time.

That was ultimately why you had decided to go back to school to get a master’s degree. You still weren’t fully sure what you’d be doing on the other side of graduation, but it gave you something to do in the meantime while you figured it out. Sure, you’d be many more thousands of dollars in debt, but you’d reached a point that you didn’t care so much about that anymore. You’d be paying off your loans for years, anyway. What was a few more?

“Thanks, Kyo. I know,” you replied, pulling him into a hug. His torso was large and comforting, his white zip-up hoodie unbelievably soft, and you felt the tension melt away as he squeezed you tight.

As you pulled into the parking lot of the university, your chest was flooded with a confusing rush of excitement mixed with melancholic nostalgia. You parked your aging Honda Civic –the same one you had when you were in undergrad– and began walking across campus to the familiar building that hosted nearly all of the English and writing classes. That was one thing you were relieved about: since your masters was similar to your bachelors, you would likely be using the same or at least similar facilities that you had in previous years. You felt comfort in the familiarity.

You also felt comfort in the setting of the university: set in a relatively small, quaint town compared to other college towns, nearly everywhere you went on campus you were shaded by trees, walking through well-maintained grassy areas full of picnic tables, or walking past massive and inspiring art installations. It was an incredible mixture of human civilization and nature, the best of both worlds.

Looking up at the trees, you finally felt the majority of the anxiety leave your body, as you took in the view. You weren’t sure how to describe it, but something about the position of the autumn sun made the colors of the sky and trees look so unique, and it was very nostalgic for you. Ever since you were in elementary school, you’d always loved the feeling of the beginning of the school year; it felt like much more of a “new start” than New Year’s itself. Sure, you were sad about the loss of the freedom of summer, but at the same time, you felt renewed, ready to reinvent yourself. And that’s what you were ready to do.

As you walked into the classroom, you took the most convenient open spot, closest to the door, and pulled out your laptop to start taking notes. A few minutes later, you heard someone sit next to you with a deep sigh, and you risked glancing over. The guy was adorable, dressed in black track pants and an oversized black hoodie, his hair a creative mixture of black, blue, and bleach blonde. He seemed young, you thought absently, noting his many chunky rings and flawless, youthful skin, and you wondered if he was in the same program as you, or another one. In any case, he seemed nervous, shuffling through his bag and sighing repeatedly, and as mean as it felt, it made you a little less nervous. You could do this. Everyone else in the room was in the same boat as you.

The professor walked in and began the class by handing out the syllabus, talking through it and answering questions, and then reading through one of Shakespeare’s sonnets together as a class. She then split the class up into small groups to introduce themselves and discuss the sonnet.

You ended up being grouped with the guy next to you and the guy behind you, and as you turned your chair to face both of them, the sight of the man behind you took your breath away. He had layered, shoulder-length black hair and some of the most piercing dark eyes you’d ever seen; a perfectly sloped nose, and full lips. He wore a soft-looking gray sweater and what looked like black skinny jeans and white sneakers, all very cozy and basic.

“I’m Taeyang,” he introduced with a smirk and a shy wave, his voice surprisingly nasal but simultaneously rich and full. “Hey, I’m y/n,” you responded with a nervous smile, and as you both looked over to the boy seated next to you, he bowed his head slightly and said, “I’m Shota, and I don’t know shit about Shakespeare so I hope I don’t totally bomb this course.”

At his statement, you and Taeyang burst out laughing, and everyone’s nerves seemed to soften. You explained that you had a fairly solid understanding of Shakespeare since you had a bachelor’s in English, but discovered that Taeyang was a music major and Shota was in the performance arts and theater department. They were both taking the course as one of their core requirements, and were excited to find out that they were in fairly similar programs and started to talk animatedly with each other about the other classes they were taking.

Before long, the group discussion ended and each small group shared their thoughts on the sonnet before the class itself ended, and you headed out of the classroom to walk towards the library. However, you quickly felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned to find Taeyang with Shota trailing close behind him. “Hey y/n, are you headed to the library too? If so, wanna study with us?”

“Sure,” you responded with a smile, not expecting to make friends this quickly. Although Taeyang accepted your response gracefully, you noticed how much Shota’s face brightened once he found out that you’d be joining them, and you felt a little surge of happiness.

Halfway to the library, Shota spoke up, his voice meek and quiet. “I can’t believe we already have a paper due next week. This is so not my thing.”

“Oh god, no kidding,” you replied, not actually feeling too surprised, but understanding why he would be. You really couldn’t understand how an undergrad theater major could have ended up in this level of course, but you were already prepared to help him as much as he needed.

“My textbooks actually haven’t arrived yet, so I was headed to the library to see if I can find them and borrow them until my order arrives.”

They both looked at you in horror. “Y/n!” Taeyang yelled, and you laughed. “I know, I know, it’s not ideal, but I’ll figure it out. Hopefully today.” He shook his head in disbelief as the three of you approached the front doors of the library.

You slowed down as you entered the foyer of the library, and memories started flooding back to you: all the times you’d visited this iconic space during your undergrad, the good days and the bad, the writing center appointments, and the late nights before finals. Taeyang and Shota slowed to a stop and turned back towards you.

“You good?” Taeyang asked, an eyebrow raised. Already, he reminded you a little of Keeho – strikingly beautiful, with too much attitude for his own good. And it brought you immeasurable comfort.

“Yeah, sorry, just feelin’ a little nostalgic. Haven’t been here in a minute!” you responded, still looking at the murals on the wall.

“Wait, you went here before? What do you mean?” Shota asked, eyes wide and innocent, and you tried not to laugh.

“For my undergrad, yeah,” you responded with a smile. “I graduated in 20xx and then took some years off to work before coming back.”

You could see Shota doing the mental math in his head before looking back at you, his face looking incredulous. “Wow, I totally thought you were close to my age,” he said, and you stifled a laugh, trying not to upset the peace and quiet of the library. Taeyang looked amused at Shota’s response, too.

“That must be a trip, y/n. I’m a graduate student too, but I didn’t take a break so I’m fully sick of looking at this place by now,” he said with a wry smile. You giggled quietly and nodded in understanding, as the three of you entered past the reception desk and found a table in a quiet corner.

While Taeyang and Shota settled in, setting their coffees on the table and opening up their laptops, you pulled out your phone to find the list of books you’d ordered –both for your Shakespeare class and also for your other class on American Fiction.

It had been a while since you actually looked for books in the library; most of the time you’d had your textbooks on hand from the bookstore at the start of each term, and when you spent time in the library, it was usually just because you needed a quiet place to force yourself to work.

Therefore, you ended up wandering around for a bit, phone in hand, before you turned a corner and crashed straight into someone, stacks of books crashing to the floor in a dramatic flurry.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he began as he started picking up the books from the floor and you dove down to help him, embarrassment flooding your face with heat. “Please, I’m the one who should be sorry, I wasn’t paying attention at all. Are you okay?” you asked, still kneeling on the floor, and looked up to meet eyes with the person you’d run into.

Your eyes were met with deep brown ones, slightly downturned, which squinted when he smiled to say, “I’m fine, please don’t worry about it.”

You sighed in relief, piling the rest of the books into your arms and helping load them into his – realizing that he’d been carrying way too many, and maybe, just maybe, the accident had partially been his fault after all.

“Can I help you find anything?” he asked, slightly out of breath, and you glanced down to realize that he was wearing a library badge, then looked back up to his face. He had bleach-blonde hair, bangs hanging down over his face but with the sides clipped up, and a sparkly nose stud. He wore round silver-rimmed glasses, and when he smiled, you saw that one of his canines was noticeably crooked, and it added a sweet youthfulness to his appearance.

You felt bad, but you also knew that he was exactly the person you needed at that moment. “Um, actually… I’m so sorry, but I have a list of books I’m looking for, if you wouldn’t mind taking a look and pointing me in the right direction?” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck.

His eyes widened. “Ah, really? I can totally do that! Just let me unload these really quick and we’ll find what you’re looking for.”

You felt a mixture of relief and shyness as you waited for him. Stealing glances at him as he put away the books on various shelves, you saw that his ears were adorned with pearl teardrop earrings. He wore loose black slacks, dark red oxfords, and an olive green cardigan with a plain white t-shirt underneath. As he approached you once he was finished, you saw that he also wore a simple pearl necklace that matched his earrings. Cute, you thought, feeling suddenly very unfashionable.

“Alright, sorry about that. What was it that you were looking for?” he said, adjusting his bangs out of his eyes and placing a hand on his hip. You pulled up the list on your phone and showed it to him, but he unexpectedly took the phone out of your hand to peruse the list, leaning in close enough that you could smell his cologne. Or, whatever it was – he smelled just like a candy shop, like a mixture between cotton candy and fresh strawberries.

“Mmm,” he hummed, and started walking away from you. You followed him dumbly, noting that he still had your phone in his hand. He walked up to a shelf close by, pulled a dark red book off of it, then kept walking without missing a beat. You had to rush to keep up with him, as it was like he had the entire place memorized. Fortunately, everything you needed was on the ground floor and after just a few minutes, he had a stack of books and turned towards you with a proud smile, handing you your phone first, then the stack. You shoved your phone in your pocket before accepting the messy stack from him, brushing up with his arms in the process, and once again becoming overwhelmed by his cloying scent.

“Thank you, uh,” you said, looking down at his nametag. “Jongseob. I really appreciate it.”

“No prob at all,” he replied jovially. “Come find me up at the circulation desk if you need help finding anything else!”

“Thanks, I will,” you answered, bowing your head slightly with a smile as you turned and headed back towards your table.

You set the books down and Taeyang and Shota both raised their arms in a silent celebration, whisper-screaming excitedly that you’d been able to grab every single book that you’d needed for the term. As you began to help explain the assignment to Shota, you couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances back at the circulation desk to see if the kind blonde clerk was there.

Finally, he showed up and your head snapped back around to focus on what you and Shota were working on. Your mind was elsewhere, though. The guy had seemed so sweet; you wondered if he was a student here as well, and figured he must be, based on his age. He didn’t seem any older than Shota or Taeyang, you considered distractedly. He really seemed to know his way around the library and you were relieved that you had both people in your class to talk to, as well as someone in the library to help you out if you needed it.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a deep sense of relief. Maybe this new college experience wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.

Chapter 2

Although you could barely believe it, nearly a month had passed since the term had begun. In that time, you’d continued bonding with Taeyang and Shota, even inviting them over to your place for study sessions from time to time. Keeho had been shocked at the quickness with which you made friends in class but he was relieved, nevertheless.

You’d been spending a considerable amount of time in the library to do homework, both with and without Taeyang and Shota. And despite your years-prior habit of sitting on one of the higher floors to avoid the noise of the computer lab, you found yourself hanging out on the lowest level–if not within sight of the circulation desk, you would at least try to be within earshot.

By this point, you’d developed an amicable relationship with the friendly blonde library clerk, and you’d inadvertently developed a sense of when his library shifts landed. He only worked a couple days per week but you’d always say hello to him when you walked in, and each time, he greeted you with a warm smile. You’d greet the other library clerks as well since you spent so much time there, but Jongseob was the one who stood out to you the most, especially since he’d helped you so much that one time. But also, from what you observed, he seemed to be generally more helpful than the other clerks, and kept himself much busier than them.

Not only that, but you’d also noticed that he used a much higher-pitched customer service voice when speaking with patrons, compared with the voice he used to chat with his coworkers, and you selfishly wished you could hear more of his natural voice. Each time you heard him chatting behind the counter with one of the other clerks, you’d accidentally stop what you were doing so you listen. You couldn’t really make out the words, which wasn’t the point; it wasn’t like you wanted to invade his privacy – you were just curious.

Overall, he seemed like an endlessly interesting person, and you found yourself drawn to him. There was a warmth and vibrancy that he brought to the library that you enjoyed, and you often thought that you wouldn’t mind being friends with him.

Walking into the library, you slowed down to admire the construction paper bats and pumpkins pasted all over the windows. Ah, that’s right – Halloween was coming up. Although it was one of your favorite holidays, Halloween had come so fast this year and you’d spent no time preparing or really giving it much thought. The days and weeks had been a bit of a blur since the beginning of term. However, you were glad to see the decorations in the library; you knew the library staff must have been busy too, but it had been sweet of them to take the time to keep up with seasonal and holiday decorations.

You walked in and immediately had to do a double take at the front desk: Jongseob was dressed head to toe in black, and was wearing black cat ears over his shaggy blonde hair. He’d drawn whiskers and a cat nose on his face, and looked impossibly adorable. He was the only one at the desk who had dressed up, and you wondered if he felt out of place. That thought was cut short, however, as you watched him hold up his hands at one of his coworkers playfully, curled like paws. You choked back a laugh, in awe of how cringey he looked. Unsurprisingly, he oozed the same confidence as usual.

As you walked past the desk, he was animatedly talking with the others so you looked down and continued heading to your usual corner table nearby, but then you heard him calling out from behind you.

“Y/n! Hi!” he said, and you turned around to see him waving at you with a smile. You smiled back and stalled, strolling over to the desk casually. You waved at the others before fixing your eyes on him. “Good morning! I like the outfit,” you said, gesturing to his cat ear headband and black turtleneck.

“Oh, this old thing?” he replied, fidgeting with one of the ears, then giggled self-consciously. “Thanks,” he said with a sincere smile. You turned to walk to your table, but his voice stopped you again.

“Hey y/n, quick question.”

“What’s up?” you said, turning back around to face him.

“Do you mind if I sit with you during my lunch? It’s in about a half hour.”

You blinked once, thoughtfully, pleasantly surprised. “Uh, sure! I’ll just be right over there.”

“Cool, thanks,” he replied with a smile, immediately going back to his conversation with the other clerks.

You walked over and sat at your table to begin working on one of your assignments, but you had a hard time concentrating. Your eyes kept drifting to your phone to check the time, and you kept glancing up to see if he was coming. It had seemed so random for him to ask to have lunch with you, but you weren’t complaining; it was just unexpected.

The next thing you knew, he was plopping down next to you and unwrapping his sandwich unceremoniously. “Thanks for letting me hang with you,” he said with a smile, then took a huge bite of his sandwich. You smiled back and shrugged. “I mean, it’s no problem. Does this mean we’re officially buddies, now?”

“Now?” he asked with a horrified look on his face, mouth still full, clutching his chest dramatically. He swallowed the enormous bite, struggling slightly. “We’ve been buddies. You’re like… one of my favorite patrons. Don’t tell,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips, and you laughed and rolled your eyes.

“Seriously though,” he continued, taking off the cat ear headband and rubbing the sides of his head where the band had likely been pressing on his scalp. “You always have the most interesting questions for me, and I’m always wondering what you’re working on, especially after those books I helped you find that first week of term. Oh shit, I’m being so rude, here–” he said, pushing the other half of his sandwich towards you.

“Oh that’s okay, you don’t have to–”

“I brought it for you!” he insisted, and after looking at the sandwich, then back up at him with a sigh, you reluctantly took it and began eating with him.

“Thanks, you really didn’t have to” you said sheepishly between bites, and he waved away your comments dismissively.

You cleared your throat. “So. You’re a student here too, I’m assuming? What’s your major?”

“This probably won’t shock you, but I’m in the English Lit & Writing program.”

You nodded and smiled, fully unsurprised. “Undergrad, right?”

“That’s right. Oh,” he said, eyes widening. “Are you in one of the graduate programs or something?”

“Yeah, I’m working on my Master’s in English,” you said, feeling simultaneously proud, and like an impostor.

“ Fuuuck , that’s so badass!” he replied, but immediately scratched his nose and completely smeared the black makeup to the side.

“Thanks,” you said, stifling a giggle, “but you just, uh. Your makeup,” you continued, gesturing to your own nose.

“ Shit ,” he hissed through his teeth, then laughed heartily. “I’ll just go wash it off, I don’t have anything to fix it with,” he said, standing to go, but you stopped him.

“Wait, I’m pretty sure I have something, give me a sec,” you said, rifling through your bag before pulling out a tube of black liquid eyeliner.

“Oh my god, thanks so much. Do you have a mirror? Or, wait, I’ll just go to the restroom and use the mirror in there–”

“I can fix it for you. Just sit, it’ll be super easy.”

He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Alright, makeup artist, I see you,” he said, and you laughed. “Alright dude, just sit down and hold still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, using his natural, lower voice. He immediately sat down to face you, and you wanted to punch yourself in the face at the feeling of heat flooding your face. He was so charismatic that it was annoying.

You took a tissue from your bag and gently wiped away the smeared portion of the makeup on the tip of his nose, which was easy because his skin was a little on the oily side. You then rested the side of your hand on his cheek while you fixed it with your eyeliner, trying desperately to keep your mouth closed because it dawned on you that you had no idea if your breath smelled terrible, and you’d had zero expectations to be so close to someone’s face this morning.

Meanwhile, you smelled the familiar cotton candy scent coming from him and noted that he was staring at you from behind his glasses while you were working, his big brown eyes boring into you. “What are you lookin’ at, punk?” you said, and he laughed. “Sorry, I was just zoning out. And by zoning out, I mean staring at you. Please take this in the least-weird way possible, but your eyes are really cool-looking.”

“Oh, these old things?” you teased, tucking your hair behind your ear sarcastically, and he put a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. “Thanks,” you said, not wanting to admit how nice the compliment had been. “You too,” you added quietly.

After descending into a comfortable silence as the both of you finished your sandwiches, he asked you about what you were working on at the moment. You just opted to show him the assignment handouts, rather than try to explain them. He flipped through the pages and nodded, looking impressed, but then sighed. “I guess this is probably what I’ll have to look forward to, huh.”

“Yeah? You planning on doing grad school?”

“Undecided, but I’m leaning more toward it. Maybe I’ll see how it goes for you and make my decision based on that,” he said with a devilish laugh, and you playfully smacked his arm as he defended himself weakly.

He looked at his phone. “Aaand, time to get back to it. Thanks for having lunch with me, y/n. I’ll see you around?”

You smiled and nodded. “I’m sure you’ll find me suffering in this corner again, sometime very soon.”

He laughed and gave you a thumbs up before putting his headband back on, grabbing the trash from the sandwich, and heading back to the circulation desk. You watched him distractedly as he fell into easy conversation with his coworkers, and sighed, logging into your laptop.

It dawned on you that you should have tried to get his number, and you kicked yourself for giving up the perfect opportunity. Taeyang and Shota were great, but they weren’t in any of the English or writing programs, and Jongseob would be the perfect person to add to your study companion rotation (if he were up for it, of course).

You frowned and tore your eyes away from the front and got back to work, resigning to the fact that you’d have to try some other time.

Chapter 3

“Hey y/n, can you grab me a beer, too?” Keeho called from the living room.

“Me three!” shouted Keeho’s boyfriend Jiung, voice shrill but kind.

“ Yes, dears! ” you yelled back, voice laced with sarcasm as you pulled the last three cold beers out of the fridge and headed back out into the living room.

You plopped down on the couch with a bottle opener and opened each beer before handing one each to Keeho and Jiung. They thanked you, and the three of you leaned back into the couch and sighed, then laughed at the obvious tension leaving all of your bodies as you started drinking.

“So, y/n, grad school! How’s that been going?” asked Jiung, his dark, elvish eyes partially shaded by his equally dark hair.

You sighed and took another sip of your beer before responding. “So far, so good. I think I have impostor syndrome, because it still doesn’t feel real, and even when I understand the concepts, I’m waiting for the moment that it all becomes too much and I realize I’m in over my head.”

Jiung nodded emphatically, face somber. “I know exactly what you mean. That feeling really sucks. But you’re doing well so far?”

“As far as I can tell, yeah. I’m only taking two classes this term, which I like. It’s nice to be able to focus more deeply on a couple classes than having to stretch my focus across multiple, y’know?”

“Yeah, for sure. Makes sense,” he responded, sipping his beer. You nodded, slipping into momentary silence.

“What about you? How’s your work been going?”

He smiled broadly. “It’s good, really good, thanks. I just got a new batch of kiddos and they’re just having the time of their lives so far.”

“Nice, that’s awesome. Must be so fun,” you replied with a smile, in awe of how different his day to day life was from yours. Jiung worked as a children’s dance teacher, and it seemed like he never had a dull day.

“So much fun, but man, I’m exhausted!” Jiung sighed, resting his head on Keeho’s shoulder.

Keeho finally chimed in: “Y/n already has a couple friends from class that they’ve been bringing over for study dates.”

“Ohoho! Study dates, huh?” Jiung responded, head popping back up.

“Study sessions, ” you said, glaring at Keeho again.

“Same thing,” he said with a smug smile. “They’re super cute though! And really nice,” he added in a singsong voice and you laughed, feeling Jiung’s eyes on you.

“Yeah, they’re pretty solid so far. Ah, speak of the devil,” you said, seeing a notification from Taeyang pop up on your phone.

taeyang 🌻: hey i decided i’m having a halloween party tomorrow and you have to come

y/n: oh, do i?

taeyang 🌻: yeah. 7pm see u there

y/n: wait wait wait i don’t even have a costume

taeyang 🌻: it’s ok u don’t need one, just come. your roommate’s welcome too, so sorry can’t remember his name but he’s cool

y/n: it’s keeho. his boyfriend’s staying this weekend so i dunno if he will, but i’ll be there

taeyang 🌻: have him bring his bf too, more the merrier

You looked up from your phone. “You guys don’t have any plans tomorrow, right?”

Keeho’s eyes perked up, while Jiung’s fell. “No…?” Jiung responded hesitantly, almost sounding like a question.

“Well, you do now,” you said with a sheepish smile. “Halloween party at Taeyang’s. He’s demanding that I come and he said y’all are invited too, and I’d feel so much better if you guys joined.”

“Hell yeah, we’re in!” Keeho yelled, and Jiung covered his face with both hands and groaned. On the surface, some might see the two of them as an unlikely pair, but truth be told, they were a hilarious match: Keeho was loud, outgoing, and vivacious, while Jiung was thoughtful and sensitive. In the right mood, however, Jiung could be just as loud as Keeho, and they often had you laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, when it got to that point. They complemented each other well, for the most part, and you always enjoyed the time you spent with both of them when Jiung would stay over.

“We don’t even have costumes, though,” Jiung said with an annoyed pout, and Keeho hugged him from the side and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry babe, we’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah,” you added, “When I told him I didn’t have a costume, he said not to worry about it and just to show up, but I’d feel like such a loser. I’ll have to figure something out as well.”

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Fast forward to the next day at 7:30pm (fashionably late, so Taeyang wouldn’t think you were a desperate weirdo): you were standing at Taeyang’s front door dressed in a black and white fitted skeleton onesie, armed with two 6-packs, and flanked by Keeho and Jiung who were in full drag – complete with enormous wigs (blonde for Keeho, red for Jiung), sparkly dresses (red for Keeho, green for Jiung), and chunky high-heels.

You’d just knocked on the door and after waiting only a couple moments, it was answered by a guy whose costume took you so off-guard you nearly choked on air: hair dyed half-and-half (brown underneath and blonde for the top layers), tiger ear headband, a white sleeveless shirt that was short enough it showed just a sliver of his lower belly, orange and black pants, and tiger paw gloves. His makeup was minimal: he had drawn-on whiskers that looked oddly familiar, plus black eyeliner drawn on to look like cat’s eyes. He must have been wearing contacts, since his eyes were an unnatural shade of golden-brown. And one of his small nostrils was adorned with a dainty silver hoop.

You blinked once, then twice, as he stared back at you, looking equally shocked. Were you at the right house? You began to sweat. You heard Keeho clear his throat behind you and you were snapped out of your daze.

“Jongseob?” you asked, and he flashed you a huge grin. “Yeah… y/n, right?” he pointed at you with furrowed brows and a surprised smile. You nodded slowly. “This is… Taeyang’s place, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah–shit, sorry, come on in,” he said as he reached forward and grabbed the 6-packs out of your hand, escorting you and the other two inside while he placed them in the fridge.

As you, Keeho, and Jiung took off your shoes in the entryway, you heard music and a couple voices screeching from the other room and figured Taeyang must be somewhere close. You laughed under your breath.

“Did you know that guy?” Keeho asked as he struggled to kick his heels off, making a sound of relief once they were off. Jiung giggled. “Yeah, I was worried we had the wrong house for a second.”

“No seriously, same. Yeah, I know him from the library. I… didn’t know that he and Taeyang knew each other!” you responded quietly, trying not to let anyone hear, even though it was unlikely.

“Well. He’s fucking cute ,” Keeho added, and you smacked his arm, followed by Jiung. He laughed and shielded himself with a dramatic scream.

The three of you turned the corner to find Taeyang, Shota, and several others playing Just Dance in front of the living room TV, and it was a sight to behold.

Shota was dressed in metallic silver pants and a matching tank top, and it appeared as though he’d sprayed himself head to toe in silver spray paint. He wore a headband with gray antennae, pointy black press-on nails, and contacts that made his eyes completely black. He looked simultaneously adorable and horrifying as he danced his heart out, clearly demolishing Taeyang who was on the other side of him. You couldn’t see Taeyang as well but it looked like he was dressed as some kind of pirate: he wore fitted black leather pants, a billowy white top with puff sleeves and a front that tied up (which he had left mostly untied), and a tri-corner hat that kept threatening to fall off as he flailed around, struggling desperately to keep up with Shota.

The living room walls were decorated with an eclectic mixture of electric guitars, concert and movie posters, and dried flowers. On shelves and all over the entertainment center were Elsa figurines and other assorted knick knacks. His house looked like a confusing but charming mixture of a man cave and a grandmother’s house.

You, Keeho, and Jiung crept into the living room and as the song ended, Shota’s arms shot up in the air as Taeyang screamed, took off his hat, and threw it at him, then began to stomp away before he saw you and the guys standing awkwardly off to the side. “Oh shit, hi guys!” he yelled, coming over to hug you. You embraced him awkwardly, not expecting the physical affection but not disliking it, either.

He looked over at Keeho, then at Jiung, then back at Keeho, and squinted his eyes, leaning his head forward a bit. “Keeho?” he asked, and Keeho flipped the hair of his wig. “You bet your ass, bitch,” and Taeyang burst out in laughter, covering his mouth with his hand. “Damn,” he yelled, looking him up and down. “You look good ,” he said, giving Keeho a look that you weren’t entirely sure was in jest.

He looked over at Jiung. “As does…your…”

“Boyfriend. This is Jiung,” Keeho said, and Jiung reached out and shook Taeyang’s hand. Jiung bowed his head kindly. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“I should be thanking you guys for upping the overall sexiness of my party, jesus christ,” Taeyang said, eliciting laughter from the both of them before he turned toward you. “C’mon, let’s get you guys some drinks.”

He walked you into the kitchen while Keeho and Jiung sat down in the living room, and Jongseob was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’d been a figment of your imagination , you thought, but the moment the thought went through your head, you saw him coming out of the restroom, putting his gloves back on.

He entered the kitchen and slapped Taeyang’s ass unceremoniously while Taeyang was bent over in front of the fridge, like he’d done it a million times. Taeyang didn’t even flinch, just flailed his arm behind him to fight back weakly. He shut the refrigerator door, opened the cold beer and handed it to you, then looked at Jongseob, then back at you. “Oh sorry, y/n this is Jongseob, Jongseob this is y/n.”

“Oh yeah, we’ve already met,” Jongseob replied with a smile, and Taeyang, misunderstanding entirely, said “Oh, great! Perfect. I’m gonna go back out there, y/n you can come if you want, just make yourself at home, okay?” he said, touching your arm reassuringly as he walked past you with a couple beers for Keeho and Jiung.

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, and as Taeyang left the kitchen, you looked over at Jongseob and the two of you finally burst out laughing, the tension in the room dissipating.

“First of all,” Jongseob said, gesturing towards you with an up-and-down motion, “I’m obsessed with the fit.”

“Thank you, thank you, same. The contacts look great on you, I almost didn’t recognize you without your glasses,” you responded, and he nodded his head and shrugged, sipping his drink, then crossed his arms and looked around the kitchen awkwardly.

“So, obvious question but…how do you know Taeyang?” you asked.

He laughed and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. He’s been my best friend for, shit, I don’t even know how many years. But yeah. What about you?”

“He’s, uh, in one of my classes this term,” you responded, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. “Wait a minute. I’ve been in the library with him tons of times while you’ve been working, and you guys have never said anything to each other.”

He laughed, giving you a look that indicated he knew you’d ask this question. “Okay, I know it’s weird, but I can explain,” he said, holding his hands up defensively, and you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, awaiting his explanation.

“So basically,” he began, “when I started working in the library, Taeyang would talk to me every time he came in and I was there, and as you know, Taeyang’s not…the most quiet person. And he makes people laugh everywhere he goes.”

You stifled a giggle and nodded, realizing where this was going.

“And, uh,” he explained, scratching the back of his head self-consciously, “long story short, things would get, uh, a little loud when he and I were together and I got enough warnings about the noise and distractions that I was given an ultimatum.”

You raised your eyebrows in shock. “An ultimatum? Like, they were about to fire you?’

“Yeah,” he said with a shy giggle. “They sat us both down and said that if I were going to keep my job at the library, Taeyang and I couldn’t interact with each other at all, period. Taeyang felt super bad, he didn’t realize how much trouble I’d been getting in, and from then on, he doesn’t even look at me when he comes in. Which is probably good, because he has such a goofy-ass face that it’s enough for him to look at me, and I’ll start laughing.”

Your jaw dropped, as the story was even more unbelievable than you could have imagined, and he just nodded in understanding, and laughed.

“Well, shit,” was all you could say, as you shook your head and smiled.

“Yeah,” he said, and you both descended into a silence that wasn’t comfortable, but wasn’t exactly awkward, either. You looked down at the tiles on the kitchen floor, listening to the sounds of the screams and music coming from the living room.

“It’s good to see you,” he finally said, his voice low and quiet. You looked up at him and his golden-speckled eyes were fixed on you, a smirk playing at his lips. Your chest warmed.

“Yeah. You too,” you responded with a smile, and you were telling the truth. It was nice to see at least one additional person here that you knew. Even though Taeyang had invited other friends and classmates that you hadn’t met before, you were much more comfortable than you expected you would be.

“Well, you wanna head out there?” he said, motioning towards the living room, and you nodded. You both started walking at the same time and had an awkward moment where you nearly ran into him and you both stood there, waiting for the other to go through the doorway, before you finally relented and walked through first, face burning up. You needed to get more alcohol in your system, you realized, if you were going to survive the night.

Back out in the living room, things were getting rowdier by the moment. You and Jongseob walked in together to find that the group had formed a circle and was playing a drinking game, which the two of you joined. Keeho and Jiung were sitting across from you on either side of Taeyang and had clearly fit right in with the group, and you sat in between Jongseob and Shota’s friend. After a brief introduction, you discovered that his name was Intak, and he was also a fellow student at the university, in the same program as Shota. He was tall and fit, wearing a headband with puppy ears, with adorable spots drawn on his face. His vibe was interesting, somewhere between a golden retriever and a frat bro, but he seemed nice.

After a little while, enough people got drunk enough that the game began to devolve and split off, and before long, you found yourself on the couch with Taeyang talking shit while the others hung out in the living room, kitchen, and out on the back deck. Instead of formally introducing you to everyone, he just gossiped about them to you, airing out their dirty laundry in a way that meant you’d remember them by much more than just their name. He was such a bitch , but being around him meant there was never a dull moment. You made a mental note to never get on his bad side, though.

Your conversation flowed naturally to Jongseob, and you got him all caught up on your odd friendship with him, along with what he’d told you in the kitchen about why the two of them couldn’t talk in the library, and Taeyang laughed so hard he could barely breathe.

“Oh my god, what a weird coincidence,” he exclaimed. “I didn’t even think about this as a possibility. I can’t believe you’ve been befriending that shithead behind my back!” You devolved into more laughter, and he slapped your shoulder, cackling uncontrollably.

You caught your breath and wiped tears from your eyes. “No, it’s seriously the weirdest thing. Literally just yesterday, I walked in and he asked to have lunch with me, and then when he came over to my table, he gave me half of his sandwich and we just… had lunch together. I think I’ve officially befriended your bestie, sorry!”

You continued laughing, but Taeyang made a weird face, though he was still smiling.

“What’s your deal?” you asked, and he shook his head. “Nothing. That’s just an uncharacteristically friendly thing for Jongseob to do. I mean, he’s not an unkind person or anything, that’s just… more than usual. For him. Hmm . He must really like you,” he explained, stroking his chin thoughtfully, and your chest did something weird.

He looked back up at you and laughed at your sobered expression. “Oh my god, it’s not a bad thing, y/n, jesus, you look like I just told you he’s a serial killer.”

“What? No I didn’t, I mean no I don’t, I mean–”

“Relax. He’s a good guy. And this is great, now we can all hang out together if our schedules align,” Taeyang said with a smile that was unexpectedly sweet, his cheeks pink with the warmth of the alcohol. “Yeah,” you said with a dumb smile, “that’d be cool.”

You fanned yourself absently, and he noticed immediately. “Are you hot? Wanna go outside?”

“I, uh.. sure?” you responded hesitantly, and without another word, he grabbed your hand and walked outside to the back with you to where some of the others were hanging out, smoking and sipping their drinks in the cool autumn air. Someone had brought a wireless speaker out there and was blasting pop music, and Intak was dancing shamelessly while Shota joined him periodically. Once Shota saw you, however, he threw up his arms, screaming your name and running towards you. He enveloped you in a tight hug, nearly squeezing the life out of you and causing you to let go of Taeyang’s hand. “Y/n, I missed you,” he whined, and kept his arms around you, refusing to let you go. “I missed you too, buddy,” you said, rubbing his back affectionately.

The alcohol continued to enter your system, and everything started to feel warm and a little fuzzy. You weren’t sure when Shota had let go of you, or when Taeyang had gone back inside, but Jongseob had just gone inside to make you a mixed drink and came out, putting it in your hand and nearly stumbling into you as he did so. You grabbed onto his bare arm to steady him and he started laughing maniacally, leaning his head on your shoulder, and you couldn’t help laughing back.

Most of the others had gone back inside at this point, except for Shota and Intak who were running around in the yard chasing each other, completely oblivious of your presence. Things continued to relax between you and Jongseob, and your conversation flowed endlessly: he gossiped about his coworkers at the library (telling you things he probably shouldn’t have), you gossiped about Keeho and Jiung, and the both of you gossiped about Taeyang – all in good spirits.

At some point, you’d begun to talk about books, and even though you had slightly different taste in books as Jongseob (which made sense, considering how much younger he was), you discovered that both of you loved Herman Hesse. You were still working on reading his works, but Jongseob had read all of them. He loved Narcissus and Goldman, Knulp (though he complained that he’d lost his copy of it), and Demian .

“Ah, I fuckin loved Demian,” you exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut dramatically.

“Yeah? It’s one of my absolute favorites. It might be my number one, but I’m not sure. But yeah, it’s just so so good. I love a solid coming-of-age novel,” he replied.

“And bro… that shit is so gay!” you said with an indulgent giggle.

He rolled his eyes, and you felt a flash of anger pass through your body. “What?” you asked him, sounding more interrogative than you’d intended.

“I mean… don’t get me wrong, I love a gay romance just as much as anyone, but I think the connection between Emil and Demian is really complex and people can be so fast to just call it ‘gay’ without actually exploring it or considering the possibility of intimate male platonic friendships.”

Your head spun with the depth of conversation he’d just dumped on you, and you realized you were probably way too drunk for this topic. But you persisted.

“I dunno dude, have you considered that queer people tend to scream ‘that’s gay’ about it because they have so little representation in media? I’m just saying… you sound a little homophobic! Ayyyy who invited the homophobe?” you screamed and pointed at him, looking for anyone who would pay attention to you and get into the messy drama that was unfolding between the two of you.

He laughed, grabbing your hands and keeping you from pointing at him, screaming at you to stop. “Oh my god, that is not what I’m saying! Shut the fuck up, dude!”

“This guy hates gays!” you yelled, and he lunged towards you, clapping his hand over your mouth to muffle your screams. You screamed with his hand over your mouth, suddenly becoming aware of him touching your face with one hand and cradling the back of your head with the other, and your heart started to speed up at the unfamiliar proximity.

Fuck these stupid hot college twinks, you thought as you tried to act normal about the situation, but when you looked up at him, his eyes were half-lidded, staring down at you intensely. You glared back at him and, giving in to your impulsive thoughts, stuck your tongue out and licked his fingers. He screeched and pulled his hand back, laughing, an expression of utter shock on his face.

“Ew!” he yelled as he wiped his hand on his pants.

“Don’t try to silence me. Fucker,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “You hate gay people,” you added, refusing to let it go, and he slapped his hands over his face and groaned loudly.

“Oh! My! God! For the last time. That is not what I was trying to say. I just think that some people can get a little lazy in their analysis of the book. They call it gay and then just stop right there, and I think there’s so much more.”

“Why can’t it be both? Why can’t we acknowledge that there is both homoerotic tension, plus a lot of other stuff going on between them?”

He sighed, running both hands through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I suppose you have a point,” he said with a defeated smile.

You started punching him playfully and he didn’t fight back, just laughed and yelled dramatically, shielding himself as you pretended to beat the shit out of him, and with the conclusion of your play-fight, you both decided to go inside to see what everyone else was up to.

Most of the others had gone home at this point, but you spotted Keeho and Jiung cuddling on the loveseat, their makeup absolutely fucked up at this point, and Shota and Intak came out of the kitchen, each with another drink in hand. It was late into the night and Taeyang was messing with his gaming console, trying to get netflix to work so he could turn on a scary movie, but he was so drunk that he kept pressing the wrong buttons, so Jongseob had to come over and help him.

Once they’d finally settled on one, you sat on the couch with Taeyang on your left and Jongseob on your right. There was technically enough room on the couch for one more, but it would be super crowded, so Shota sat on the floor between your legs and Intak laid on the floor on his stomach next to him, chin propped in his hands cutely.

You weren’t as drunk anymore but still had a strong buzz going as the movie began, and you giggled as Taeyang pulled his legs up onto the couch in front of him and grabbed onto your arm, terrified. You weren’t the worst at horror movies but having Taeyang at your side screaming at every sound, trembling at every tense moment, had you nearly just as scared as him, and you began to inch towards Jongseob for comfort. He was sitting next to you mostly unaffected so far, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him smirking as you inched closer to him, until you finally gave in and leaned up against him, letting Taeyang cling to your left arm and lay one of his legs over yours as you held onto Jongseob’s arm with your right hand.

The next thing you knew, you were waking up, unsure of what time it was. Was it still nighttime? It didn’t seem like it was light outside yet, but there was a dim light on in the background, still–maybe from the kitchen? The TV was off. The movie had ended. There was no music, and no noise. You then realized your head was leaned against Jongseob’s shoulder, and it felt like his head was resting on yours. He was breathing deeply, small snores escaping him. You let your eyes adjust to the lighting of the room, trying not to move so you wouldn’t wake him. Glancing down, you saw that Taeyang’s entire upper body was laying in your lap, arms around you awkwardly like a monkey, his face pressed against your stomach, and Shota and Intak were splayed out on the floor, passed out. Everyone looked so uncomfortable.

You’d tried not to move too much, but your efforts were in vain, as Jongseob inhaled deeply and groaned, lifting his head off of yours. You looked over at him and he smiled sleepily, then pulled out his phone to check the time. You glanced over slyly, to check as well: 4:39am. He rubbed his eyes, and you looked over to see Keeho and Jiung on the love seat fast asleep, their limbs intertwined. Shit, you thought. There goes your ability to go home. You realized you’d have to try to sleep there.

Jongseob was the first to break the silence, whispering, “I’m gonna go find some blankets for these guys.”

“Okay,” you whispered as he got up to walk away. “Wait, where’s Taeyang’s room? I’m gonna try to get him to bed.”

“Give me a second, I’ll help you,” he replied quietly, disappearing down the hall. You waited for him in silence, looking down at Taeyang’s sleeping figure. You brushed your hand through his hair gently, being careful not to wake him yet, affection flooding your chest as he sighed heavily and held onto you even more tightly.

Seconds later, Jongseob came walking back into the living room, arms piled high with blankets that he set on the couch next to you. He placed one on Shota, one on Intak, and a larger one on Jiung and Keeho. He then turned to you and sighed with a smile, and didn’t hesitate before grabbing Taeyang under the armpits and hoisting him into a standing position. Taeyang grumbled and held onto him weakly as you stood to help support his other side. You figured he’d normally wake up easier than this, but the alcohol couldn’t have been helping his state.

You and Jongseob carefully walked Taeyang to his bedroom down the hall and laid him down into bed before he curled up in his blankets and went back to sleep instantly. The two of you stepped out into the hallway and looked at each other awkwardly. He’d lost his tiger ears and his eye makeup had been smudged to hell, but he’d taken his contacts out at some point and his eyes were back to the deep brown that you were familiar with.

“Are you gonna head out or try to get back to sleep?” he asked.

“I thought about leaving but I don’t wanna leave Keeho and Jiung here, I feel like they’d be bummed if they woke up in the morning without me.”

“Yeah, makes sense. I’ll sleep on the floor next to the guys if you wanna take the couch,” he whispered, walking down the hall, and you followed after him groggily. He laid some blankets and pillows on the floor while you settled into the couch, and you looked down at him guiltily as he stared at his phone.

“Jongseob,” you whispered, and he looked up at you curiously. “What’s up?”

“You take the couch. I’ll sleep down there. I like the floor better anyway.”

“You’re a bad liar,” he whispered, and you blushed fiercely. “It’s all good, I’ve slept on this floor a million times.”

You chewed your lip, looking at the empty space on the other end of the couch. It really was rather large; your legs weren’t even close to reaching the end. And it was deep as well.

“Do you wanna share it with me?” you said, and he looked back up at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Fuck, not like that, I mean like on opposite sides. I feel like we could fit pretty easily. Do you wanna try?”

He exhaled a breathy laugh, and made an expression that you couldn’t quite read, but he got up from where he was laying and tried it out, putting the pillow on the other end of the couch and pulling the blanket over himself as he extended his legs toward you. It just barely worked if you both laid on your sides, but there was no way to lay like this without being in a considerable amount of contact with him, and you suddenly felt very embarrassed for making the suggestion.

“Ah, maybe this wasn’t a good idea, if you’re uncomfy we can just–”

“I’m comfortable,” he said quietly, looking down the couch at you, his legs resting against yours gently. “Plus, you probably wanted me up here because you’re still scared about that movie. Scaredy-cat,” he said with a giggle. You grabbed his foot menacingly and he let out a surprisingly high-pitched squeak. “ Don’t,” he whispered adamantly, and you stuck your tongue out at him and laid your head back down, closing your eyes and eventually drifting off into a fitful sleep.

Chapter 4

You woke to the smell of fresh coffee, and when you opened your eyes to look around, you noticed that the floor was now empty, as was the love seat. Soft light leaked through the windows, and you heard faint noises coming from the kitchen.

Peering down to the other edge of the couch, you saw Jongseob still sound asleep, his two-tone hair a mess, mouth hanging open slightly. At some point in the night, his legs had gotten tangled with yours, and if you moved, you knew you’d wake him. You weren’t sure if it was out of consideration or sleepiness but you closed your eyes and laid there a bit longer. Your stomach hurt and your head pounded, so you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Nevertheless, you laid there as long as the circumstances permitted, taking in the peacefulness of the morning.

After a while, the noises from the kitchen became a little louder and you felt Jongseob begin to stir. You carefully untangled your legs from his and sat up, rubbing your eyes, and he followed suit, crossing his legs on the couch and looking over at you. “Good morning,” he said with a little wave and a sleepy smile. “Morning,” you responded. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” he replied, laughing dryly and rubbing his temples. “Fun night, though.”

“Yeah,” you said softly with a small nod, then looked over towards the kitchen as Taeyang came out with two steaming mugs. You thanked him as he handed one to you, then to Jongseob, and then sat on the loveseat, turned towards the both of you.

“How’d you cuddlebugs sleep?” he began, and your face instantly flushed.

“Good,” Jongseob responded without missing a beat. “Although the biggest cuddlebug here is undoubtedly you , Taeyang,” he said with a slight edge to his voice.

Taeyang scoffed in response. “As if,” he said, but his expression changed as he looked over at you. You smiled and your eyes darted to the side. His eyes widened. “Wait, what’d I do?” he said as you were no longer able to stifle your giggles.

“Oh, you know, just latched onto y/n like a baby monkey after hanging all over them during the movie. Standard drunk Taeyang shit,” Jongseob said without hesitation, a slight smirk pulling at his lips.

Taeyang ran his hand through his hair self-consciously and laughed under his breath, then looked back at you. “Well! If any of that was annoying or unwelcome, my bad,” he said, trying to look as cute as possible, and you shook your head with a smile. “It was fine, you were just going with the vibes. It was a good night,” you reassured him, and he sighed in relief.

You sipped your coffee and chatted with the two of them in the living room for a bit, recapping the previous night and laughing at all of Shota’s shenanigans, before Keeho and Jiung came inside from the back deck. They looked an absolute mess: they’d lost their wigs at some point and their makeup was smeared to hell; plus, their dresses looked so uncomfortable at this point.

“You two ready to get home?” you asked and Jiung was quick to nod his head yes while Keeho hugged him and rubbed his back.

The three of you said your goodbyes to Taeyang and gave him hugs, before Keeho and Jiung waved at Jongseob and headed out to the car. You turned towards Jongseob and weren’t sure if you were at the hugging stage yet in your friendship yet, but he opened his arms and shrugged, waiting for your response, and you obliged, embracing his small frame for just a moment before he pulled away, one hand still on your arm, and said, “I’ll see you at the library?”

“Probably very soon,” you replied with a smile, and headed out to join the guys and drive home.

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Once you’d arrived home, you kicked yourself. His number. You forgot to get his phone number… again!

You pulled open your phone, typing up a text to Taeyang to ask him for Jongseob’s number but you hesitated. Something about it made you cringe; you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, especially at his age. Even the memory of inviting him to share the couch with you made you want to bury yourself alive. Am I a creep? you wondered, and threw yourself onto your bed, groaning into your pillow.

Within the next moment, however, your phone vibrates and you pull up the notification.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: hiii 😛

You smiled at your phone.

y/n: sorry, who is this?

xxx-xxx-xxxx: only ur fav librarian ever

xxx-xxx-xxxx: sorry, i asked taeyang for ur number since i forgot to ask u for it before u left, hope that’s ok ?

y/n: a little creepy but it’s all good

jongseob 🐯: :l

y/n: jk omg

jongseob 🐯: :)

y/n: suh

jongseob 🐯: i’m forcing taeyang to make me breakfast lol. wbu

y/n: i’d just started rotting in bed when you texted. think i’m gonna jump in the shower tho

jongseob 🐯: sick. enjoy ur shower 🤙

In the weeks that ensued, you texted Jongseob more and more often: he started sending you photos of books he was reading, and you’d do the same. You exchanged writing assignments, and he began to join the study groups with Taeyang and Shota at your house. Having Jongseob around was refreshing – he felt like a missing piece in your life, the way he always understood what you were trying to say when you couldn’t find the words, how he always noticed when the quiet person in a group of people couldn’t get a word in, his light, bubbly laugh, and his boundless thirst for knowledge. You weren’t sure if he reminded you of a younger version of yourself, or a younger version of who you wished you could have been, but his presence in your life was more than welcome.

You’d even begun to spend some time at his dorm with him, despite not being entirely comfortable with it.

“Are you sure I’m not too old to be here? They’re not gonna kick me out, right?” you said, the first time he’d ever had you over.

“For the last time,” he said with an exasperated laugh, unlocking the door to his dorm, “you’re old but you’re not that old. You fit in just fine. You know, if nobody looks at you long enough.”

You smacked his arm and he flinched away, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. The dorm space was horribly cluttered, mostly on Jongseob’s side. His walls were covered in band and movie posters, and his shelves were littered with too many books and various figurines. He shoved some laundry off of his bed and sat down, scooting back to the wall, then smiled up at you, his expression a mixture of confidence and embarrassment. He patted the bed and you crawled onto it, settling against the pillows which would have been resting against a headboard if he’d had one.

You cleared your throat and looked around. “Gorillaz and Fallout Boy, huh?”

He nodded, a self-aggrandizing smile on his face. “Yeah, I like a lot of older artists,” he said, and you couldn’t help bursting out laughing. “What?” he replied, looking genuinely confused, and you took a moment to compose yourself, hand still covering your face. “No, nothing–yeah. Older artists,” you said, but when you made eye contact with him, you started laughing again.

“They are older, okay?!” he said, starting to sound a little annoyed. “No I know, it’s just, I didn’t expect you to have such millennial taste in music. Am I gonna find out that you secretly wear skinny jeans and have an obsession with Disneyland too?”

“Wow, okay, I see how it is! You’re one to talk,” he said with a scoff, and pulled out his laptop and one of his many books to begin studying.

“No, it’s a good thing, makes me feel more at home,” you said, putting a hand over your heart mockingly, and he rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. “For real though, I actually wasn’t laughing to make fun of you, it was just an uncontrollable reaction. Those were a couple of my favorite bands in high school. It was just unexpected, is all.”

“Sure, okay boomer,” he replied without looking up at you, and you giggled under your breath as you pulled out your own laptop and began to look through your assignments.

After you’d been working for probably about 20 minutes, you looked up and over to the other side of the dorm room. “What’s your roommate up to?”

“Hanging out with his boyfriend today,” he replied, glancing up at you.

“ Wow , maybe I was wrong about you hating gay people.”

“Right, the ol’ ‘but I have so many gay friends’ trick!” he replied with a wry laugh. “But yeah. I don’t hate gay people. I’m not even sure if I’m straight, myself.”

“Oh?” you responded, curiosity piqued. “What’s the gayest thing you’ve done? Wear a crop top? You know, I think straight girls are starting to like that–”

“Made out with Taeyang,” he responded, voice remaining monotone, but you were far from expecting that answer, and struggled to stay composed. You were simultaneously flustered by the mental imagery of him kissing Taeyang, and selfishly excited that your new little friend group might have been more queer than it had initially seemed. Your chest warmed, but then you snapped back to reality where Jongseob was eyeing you self-consciously.

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Ha. Nice,” you said with your best douchebag voice, and he made a look of mock disgust and threw one of his many plushies at you.

He didn’t realize you continuing to look at him as he worked, and you examined the way his glasses perched on his small nose, the frayed ends of his unstyled hair, the way his nose stud glinted in the lamplight. His lips were a little chapped, but his skin was otherwise flawless, as usual. Today was one of his days off, so instead of his usual fashion-forward business casual look, he sported loose gray sweatpants and a loose-fit beige long-sleeved shirt with some design on the front that you couldn’t quite make out.

You looked back at your laptop and worked on one of your many papers that was due soon, until your eyes ached and your brain hurt. Just as you were ready to give up, Jongseob slammed his laptop shut. “I can’t do this anymore, my brain hurts. Are you hungry?” You nodded, wanting to cry in relief.

After the food arrived and you both finished eating, you grabbed your laptop again and opened it back up. “Damn,” he said, “back at it? You’re better than me…”

“No, I actually was hoping you could possibly… read something for me? Something that I’m working on for a writing class.”

His face changed from distress to curiosity, and he adjusted his glasses. “Sure, I can do that.”

You explained the assignment to him and once he understood, you handed him your laptop with the file pulled up. Chin propped in his hand, the light of your laptop reflecting off his glasses, he took his time to read it while you sat there, awaiting his feedback. You’d already read his work in the past when he’d asked you, and you knew how good of a writer he was. Therefore, you were unusually nervous to hear what he thought.

“Mmmm,” he said as he set the laptop on the bed and looked back at you. “It’s honestly pretty solid. I like it a lot. But are you open to some, uh, constructive criticism?”

You nodded your head, terrified, but as you scooted over towards him to look at the screen with him, he dove into a series of suggestions related to style, character-building, and the way you’d ordered the events in the story. It was a ton of stuff you didn’t even notice until he pointed it out, but it made so much sense.

“Sorry to get so anal about those things, I’m just–”

“No no, it’s good. That’s exactly what I need, and why I hoped you’d be willing to read it for me.”

He smiled, nodding. “Cool.”

You scooted back to the head of the bed and the room descended into a comfortable silence while you tapped away at notes on your laptop and he stared at his phone. He then looked up at you, looking like he’d either just remembered something. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked. What were you planning on doing with your degree once you graduate?”

Your heart rate quickened. You hated this question.

“Uh, I’m not 100% sure yet. Maybe something in editing, tutoring, or something like that?”

“Wait… what?”

“What? What’s the problem?” you asked, looking at his shocked expression.

“So you’re not…planning to write?”

You laughed, amazed at his assumption. “Oh no, not me. No way.”

“But you’re so good! Why? Do you dislike writing?”

“No, I actually like it a lot,” you murmured, feeling the intensity of his eyes on you.

“So… why? Why do you want to spend your life working on stuff that other people have written, rather than writing your own material?”

The question hit you like a sledgehammer, but it was a valid one. You sighed, trying to figure out what to say.

“Not good enough. Plus, I doubt anyone would want to read what I write, anyway.”

Jongseob groaned. “Oh my god, first of all, that’s not the point of creating. You don’t create with others’ opinions in mind, otherwise it’s never going to be as good as it could be. Second of all, I would.”

“You’d what?”

“I’d read the things you write. You’re interesting, and a good writer, and… I like the way you look at the world.”

Your stomach dropped as he said this – probably the nicest thing he’d said to you – and your head snapped towards him. He was staring at you, his eyes sincere, and he looked slightly annoyed. You smiled incredulously. “Thank you. That’s like, one of the nicest things you’ve said to me. Or anyone, for that matter. Wow.”

“Well? It’s the truth,” he replied without hesitation, slapping your leg playfully, but then looking up at you in horror as he noticed the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “Fuck, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Are you okay?”

“Nah it’s just,” you started, looking up and swiping at your eyes, annoyed at your inability to keep it together. “The impostor syndrome has been hitting me hard lately. At my big age, you’d think I wouldn’t still be dealing with this shit, but here we are.”

Jongseob’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped, before scooting over to sit next to you and putting an arm around you awkwardly. You laid your head on his shoulder and sniffled, touched at the kind gesture. Embarrassed, but touched.

“Sorry dude, didn’t mean to get all weepy on you,” you said after the tears stopped flowing. You risked looking at his face and his eyes were still soft, his mouth slightly downturned. “Don’t apologize. It sucks so bad that you feel like this. I wish I could make it stop. You, of all people, don’t deserve to feel like you’re not good enough. Because you are. And I have a feeling you always have been.”

Your eyes watered again and you felt your face crumpling; his face fell immediately. “Oh my god please don’t, don’t keep crying,” he said, putting his arm around you again and rubbing your back soothingly. You laughed, voice wet and pathetic-sounding.

You were embarrassed to be comforted by someone so young, but the years of being in the soul-crushing workforce and floundering around without passion had made you jaded and tired. There was something healing to be recognized like this, and to know someone with so much love for life, such a deep passion for creation. You felt unbelievably lucky to have him as a friend.

Despite your embarrassment, you leaned your head into him. “Thank you, Jongseob. I mean it.”

He rubbed your back again and gently bumped his head against yours. “Don’t mention it, buddy.”

Chapter 5

A few weeks later, you’d gone over to Taeyang’s place to hang out with him, Jongseob, Shota, and Intak. Shota and Intak had left long ago, but you and Jongseob had stayed after Taeyang had guilt tripped both of you into taking shots with him, and you were absolutely gone. Way too gone to mentally deal with what was about to happen, next.

You sat on the kitchen floor giggling uncontrollably, head simultaneously too heavy and too light from a few too many drinks. Jongseob and Taeyang had both ended up on the kitchen floor as well, and the three of you were babbling about something you couldn’t even keep up with. Everything was funny, and the two of them just wouldn’t let up.

Suddenly, however, Jongseob gave you a devilish look before looking at Taeyang. “Hey y/n, do you dare me to kiss Taeyang?”

“Do it,” you said, continuing to laugh, your jaw dropping when Jongseob leaned forward towards Taeyang, getting dangerously close to his face.

“What are you doing, pervert?” Taeyang said, smiling wide and pushing the younger’s face away. “ C’mon,” Jongseob whined. “A little friendly kissing never hurt anyone.”

Taeyang rolled his eyes and laughed at Jongseob’s persistence, grabbing his face and scolding him. “You just wanna put on a show for y/n. Attention whore,” he said, and to your utter shock, pulled Jongseob’s face towards his into the kiss he’d been begging for.

Your stomach did a flip and you suddenly felt surprisingly sober, heat flooding your face. You weren’t sure whether to watch them or look away, but fortunately for your decision paralysis, the kiss ended quickly.

“Not true,” Jongseob said with a pout as their lips disconnected. “You’re a good kisser. For a guy, that is.” He looked over at you, that same devilish smile hinting at his lips. “Y/n, you should try for yourself,” he said, and the air in the kitchen became thick and hot. You looked at Taeyang, expecting him to shut it down, but he just shrugged and nodded with a shy smile, then giggled. What the fuck was your life, right now?

“You guys are weird,” you said, and Jongseob laughed, then exclaimed “Oh, shit!” as you scooted towards Taeyang and leaned in. He hesitated before your lips connected, slipping a hand to the back of your neck. His breath was warm on your lips, his nose brushing against yours lightly. Before you lost your nerve, you closed the distance between your mouths, your lips slotting around his. Taeyang , gorgeous, charming, talented, with the softest looking pink lips, and you were drunk on his kitchen floor kissing him while his best friend watched.

Your heart raced as he kissed you for a few moments longer than he’d kissed Jongseob, and a fire sparked in your core at the knowledge that Jongseob’s lips had just been on his. Your head was spinning as he pulled back, his hand still on your face, and as you tore your gaze from him to look over at Jongseob, you saw his expression looking much more serious than it was before, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your mouth to your chest, then back up to your eyes.

Jongseob bit his lip. “That was hot,” he said, his voice low, and Taeyang laughed heartily while you rolled your eyes and smiled, unable to bear how coy he was being.

“For fuck’s sake, just come here, I know you want to,” you said, and he smiled wide, leaning forwards toward you without hesitation, sitting on his heels with his hands on the floor between his body and yours. You heard Taeyang giggle drunkenly next to you as Jongseob leaned in, pressing his lips towards you much less delicately than Taeyang had. His nose was smaller, softer, his lips just as soft and he exhaled as he deepened the kiss, bringing both hands up to cup your face. Your legs had been crossed but you opened them to allow him to scoot in closer to you, and your mouth opened compliantly as Jongseob brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. You licked the bitter taste of vodka on his tongue, and your stomach did flips at the sensation of his lips against yours, the wetness of his mouth, and finally, when you were nearly overwhelmed, you gasped at the feeling of Taeyang kissing the side of your neck.

Jongseob smiled against your mouth and continued while Taeyang kissed the junction between your jaw and your neck, then by your ear, and then began to suck on one of your earlobes. You leaned your head to the side slightly, allowing Taeyang better access. Jongseob followed your mouth while you reached your hand out, fumbling around until you found one of Taeyang’s hands so you could slot your fingers between his, and you lifted your other hand to rest it on one of Jongseob’s arms.

Taeyang’s mouth wandered closer to where Jongseob’s lips met yours and he squeezed your hand, nipping at the skin of your cheek, and then as he broke contact, your eyes flickered open just in time to see Taeyang stealing Jongseob’s mouth, their tongues licking into each other just inches from your face.

The kiss was sloppier than the one they’d shared previously, all tongue and teeth and lips crashing together, Jongseob cradling Taeyang’s face in his hands. You felt like you were going insane; your groin throbbed and you squeezed your legs together as Taeyang gently removed Jongseob’s hands from his face and reached for yours, his eyes dark, heavy, and lustful as his lips met yours again, one hand pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

This time, however, you could hear quiet, obscene noises coming from Jongseob and you opened your eyes slightly to discover him kissing Taeyang’s neck the same way Taeyang had been kissing yours, his lips exploring Taeyang’s cheek, jawline, nibbling at his ear gently. Taeyang’s breathing became more urgent, his kisses needier as his teeth bit into your low lip, his tongue crashing into yours, and he began to moan softly into your mouth. You were intimately familiar with the overstimulation he was experiencing and you smiled into his kisses, letting your hands wander to his chest, his waist, then resting on his hips.

You felt one of Jongseob’s hands rest atop one of yours where it rested on Taeyang’s hip, and he began to press his thumb into Taeyang’s hip, at this point sucking marks into his neck. Taeyang gasped sharply at the next one and broke the kiss, breathing heavily, the kitchen filled with nothing but the sound of heaving breathing for a few moments.

As Taeyang caught his breath, he burst out laughing, the sound piercing and comforting as it rang through the otherwise quiet room; Jongseob couldn’t hold back a smile, started giggling, and the contagious laughter took over your body as well as the three of you laughed until tears were in your eyes.

Taeyang gasped for breath, wiping at the corner of one of his eyes. “Sorry guys, I can’t go much further than that without being sober. Consent, and all that. Y’know.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” you responded, nodding in understanding, but Jongseob flashed you a devious look and you already knew something filthy was about to come out of his mouth. He shielded his face from Taeyang and whispered towards you, “He wants to get me pregnant!”

You snorted, and Taeyang screamed at his friend, pushing him over on the kitchen floor and pretending to choke him. Both of their screams were high-pitched and hilarious, and you couldn’t stop laughing while they wrestled on the cold linoleum.

You were surprised at how easily things had gone back to feeling normal and comfortable among the three of you. Despite a gnawing desire deep within your gut that you had to force yourself to ignore, you didn’t feel weird at all about what had just transpired. You eventually moved towards the couch with them to watch Youtube videos and once Taeyang started nodding off, the three of you even shared a bed together: Taeyang as the biggest spoon, you in the middle, sandwiched between both of them, and Jongseob as the littlest spoon, curled up in the warm hollow of your body.

Chapter 6

The next morning you woke up to Taeyang’s morning wood pressed firmly against your ass, and you shoved him off of you gently before crawling over Jongseob’s limp body and heading to the restroom.

After emptying your aching bladder, scrubbing your face with some cold water, and staring at your grim reflection in the mirror for a little too long while you contemplated what you’d just done the night prior, you headed out to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. You opened up the cupboard and pulled out three mugs and set them on the counter: one with little berries all over it, one with a realistic portrait of a kitten, and one with the Hard Rock Cafe logo.

As Taeyang’s outdated coffeemaker hissed and sputtered, you walked around, picking up from the night before. You nearly vomited at the sight of the mostly-empty vodka bottle on the counter, promptly placing the lid on it and shoving it toward the backsplash. You picked up the empty takeout containers and put them in the trash, then walked into the living room and perused the posters affectionately. You rubbed the side of your neck idly, but then suddenly remembered the sensation of Taeyang’s lips peppering kisses all over it, and all of the alcohol from the night before threatened to come right back up. You broke out in a sweat, steadying yourself on the back of the couch.

Your mind raced, and you wondered if things would be awkward this morning, if there would be confusion, pressure, hurt, anything at all – you simply were not prepared for it.

Just as your nausea had reached its peak, a pair of thin arms wrapped around your waist from behind and a dainty frame pressed up against your back. “Good morning, y/n,” Jongseob said, voice slightly raspy from sleep as he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder from behind, his hair tickling your face. You smiled despite yourself. “Good morning , Jongseob,” you replied, unhooking his hands from your waist and turning around to see him wearing the most shit-eating grin imaginable.

The next moment, you saw Taeyang walking into the kitchen and you made brief eye contact with him before he turned the corner. Fuck , you really didn’t want to have this conversation but you knew you needed to. Fortunately, Taeyang beat you to it.

“Can you guys come in here?” he said, voice loud and clear. Jongseob snickered and you followed him around the corner just as Taeyang was pouring the finished coffee into the three mugs before handing you the one with the berries and Jongseob the one with the kitten. He took a sip of his and let out a little yelp, burning his lips.

You and Jongseob looked at each other, then at him. He looked back at each of you, then sighed. “First of all, Jongseob, stop looking at me like that,” he began, and Jongseob threw his hands up, exclaiming “What?!” and Taeyang ignored him pointedly. “Second of all, and most importantly, y/n, I know we got a little inebriated last night and things got a little…uh… heated . ”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, and you looked back, feeling hot under his gaze, nervousness blooming in your chest. Was he upset? Had you crossed a boundary? Your mind began racing and you were preparing a variety of apologies before he added, “I just wanted to clear the air and make sure we didn’t do anything that you weren’t comfortable with.”

You blinked at him once, head reeling. You blinked twice, glancing quickly over at Jongseob to see that his face had taken on a much more serious expression; he looked as if he was anxiously awaiting your answer, and you felt a surge of tenderness towards him. Looking back at Taeyang, you swallowed, before responding, “Nah, bud, we’re good.”

Taeyang’s shoulders slumped in relief and he nodded once, while Jongseob’s lips pulled into a tentative smile.

Jongseob spoke up this time. “Still friends, then? No weirdness?”

You shook your head. “Of course we’re still friends. It’s not weird unless you make it weird,” you said with a teasing smile, and Jongseob wiggled his eyebrows and smiled deviously. “No promises, dude.”

Taeyang laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, we know, you little freak,” he said, then looked at you. “But anyway. I just wanted to talk this out and make sure this doesn’t change anything between us. Because it was really cool, and a lot of fun… but we definitely don’t have to do anything like that again. Like, you know… it doesn’t have to be a thing. Or anything. If that makes sense.”

You nodded in understanding, appreciating his attention to your comfort.

“Unless you want to, of course,” Taeyang murmured, and you were shocked to see a blush creep up his neck. Jongseob’s eyebrows shot up and he started laughing, while you giggled into your coffee mug.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted. When you thought back to the events of the night prior, butterflies filled your stomach, and you felt lightheaded. It had been so unbelievably sexy, kissing both of them like that. And you liked both of them, a lot – in different ways, and for different reasons. They were both attractive – that much was certain. Taeyang was charming and alluring in every way possible; but you felt like you and Jongseob connected on a deeper level. If you weren’t careful, you worried that you might even develop a serious crush on him, which you really didn’t want. These were both your friends and study partners, and you didn’t want to do anything to complicate things or cause drama.

“I mean, what’s friendship without a little making out from time to time?” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Taeyang’s face took on an expression of surprise mixed with relief, while Jongseob nodded and pursed his lips. “That’s what I’m saying!” Jongseob said, and Taeyang rolled his eyes in the younger’s direction before turning back to you.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, and that things remain comfortable for you. We’re your friends before anything else,” Taeyang said, his eyes still looking a little worried.

You nodded, heart feeling full, then looked over at Jongseob to see that his eyes had softened, and he was nodding along with what Taeyang was saying. “Sorry for joking around so much about it,” he said, voice quieter than before, “but I’m on the same exact page as Taeyang. You’re an amazing person, and I value your friendship. A lot.”

You were shocked at the sudden burst of kindness from Jongseob. Like Taeyang had said before: it wasn’t that he was a mean person, but he wasn’t particularly warm, so you felt extra touched by his words.

Without another word, you walked up to Jongseob, cupped his face to kiss him on the cheek, then hugged him. When you released him, his sassy facade had broken and he looked surprised, a blush dusting his cheeks pink. You walked over to Taeyang and did the same. He held you for a few extra moments, squeezing you tightly, and you rubbed his back vigorously before letting him go.

The conversation moved on comfortably as the three of you discussed your weekend plans, school, friends, and everything in between. Taeyang ordered breakfast burritos to cure your hangovers, and you spent nearly the whole remainder of the day with them, chatting and doing homework. What had begun as a stressful morning had melted into a relaxing and forgiving day.

Chapter 7

Finally, after a long few months of lectures, research papers, and late nights studying, fall term was coming to a close. You, and the rest of the gang, had reached the beginning of winter break. Feeling a bit guilty for how many parties Taeyang was always hosting, you’d spoken to Keeho and decided to try hosting a low-key gathering at your place to celebrate.

Taeyang and Jongseob were the first to arrive, showing up at your door armed with drinks and snacks. You closed the door behind them and once they set everything down in the kitchen, they each hugged you one at a time – first Taeyang, then Jongseob. As Jongseob let go after holding you for a few seconds and then rubbing his hands up and down your arms briefly but affectionately, your eyes met Keeho’s. You hadn’t realized he’d walked into the living room and for some reason you felt like you’d been caught, your face burning. He gave you a knowing smile and crossed his arms, then greeted the guys and pretended like he hadn’t seen anything.

Even though Keeho was your best friend, you hadn’t yet told him what had happened that fateful night at Taeyang’s house. Nothing had happened since, and that was the main reason: Keeho could not be trusted to act normally or keep his mouth shut if he found out, and even though you’d wanted to gush to him about it as soon as it happened, you were too nervous about what he might let slip if you did. Plus, you hadn’t told Shota or anyone else about it either, and you planned on keeping it that way. It wasn’t like you were dating Jongseob or Taeyang, and you didn’t want people to start getting any ideas or treating any of you differently. Therefore, the three of you had agreed to not necessarily keep it a secret, but to avoid being open about it.

Those plans might have been futile though, you considered, as Keeho slipped off to his bedroom and called out for you to “help him with something really quick.” You took a deep breath and walked down the hall to where Keeho’s door was cracked and he yanked you inside like you were in some sort of cartoon, nearly pulling your arm out of its socket.

“Ow!” you yelled, clutching at your shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, putting his hands up. “This is urgent though!”

You laughed and crossed your arms. “Oh, really? What’s the emergency?” you asked, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“What the hell is going on with you and that anime-haired twink out there? Did you fuck him? If you fucked him and didn’t tell me I am so going to kick your ass–”

“Ohmygod Keeho stop, I did not fuck Jongseob. Jesus!” you spat out, pretending to be mad.

He squinted his eyes at you and leaned his head forward, looking into your eyes accusingly. “Then what happened? Something happened. I know it. You’re keeping something from me. Oooooh , I can’t fucking believe you!” he yelled in a hushed tone and threw his hands up.

You huffed, realizing you weren’t going to get out of this. He did, unfortunately, know you too well, and you should have known this might happen.

“Okay, I’m sorry. It’s not what you think, but something did happen. And it’s not a big deal, and we are not dating, and it is not a thing–”

“Oh my god y/n just spit it out!” he yelled, and you shushed him, worried the others might hear.

“You have to promise you won’t say anything to anyone, or make it weird.”

He raised an eyebrow and rested a hand on his hip. “Depends.”

“No, Keeho, I need you to promise,” you whined, annoyed at how much of a big deal he was making this, and worried that you were being rude by leaving the others out there for this long.

“Ugh, fine,” he said, crossing his arms angrily, but you knew he wasn’t actually mad – just being a brat, like usual.

“Okay,” you began, “So a few weekends ago I was hanging out at Taeyang’s with Jongseob and the three of us got pretty drunk…and made out.”

Keeho shook his head quickly in confusion and furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean, who made out? You got drunk and made out with Jongseob?”

You grabbed one of your arms self-consciously, preparing your ears for what was about to come. “I mean… the three of us. Jongseob and Taeyang. Me and Taeyang. Me and Jongseob. It got a little wild,” you said, laughing nervously.

Keeho clapped a hand over his mouth and screamed, undoubtedly able to be heard all the way from the living room (since his hand did next to nothing to muffle it), and you wracked your brain to try and come up with a lie to tell the others about what had gone on in here. “Bitch, I was not familiar with your game!” Keeho said excitedly, face looking incredulous, and you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling, despite your annoyance. His face dropped momentarily. “But damn,” he said, stroking his chin. “You’re a major cradle robber. How many years younger are they?”

“Don’t worry about that,” you murmured, rubbing your face with both hands, stressed. “It’s not a thing, we talked about it in the morning, everyone was good, it was just some drunk fun.”

“Sure,” Keeho said, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously. “So the way Jongseob was getting all touchy with you earlier was also just… drunk fun?”

You sighed, exasperated with the conversation at this point. “That’s just how he is,” you replied, then under your breath, said, “I think.” Keeho didn’t catch the last part since he was rubbing his eyes dramatically, but he still continued to eye you suspiciously.

“Keeho we need to get back out there, we can’t invite people over and then disappear like this,” you said, becoming more impatient.

“Well you can’t just make out with your hot friends that you’re totally not dating and there’s totally nothing weird going on at all, and then just not tell me!” he retorted, actually looking a little hurt.

“Okay, okay, fair. I just didn’t want it to be a big deal, I guess. You promised not to say anything to anyone or get weird though, remember?”

He sighed, closing his eyes and slumping his shoulders in a dramatic pout. “Okayyy, fine,” he said, looking back at you. “Just don’t keep secrets from me, okay?” he whined, and you gave in, pulling him into a hug. “Okay, fine,” you said, rubbing his back briskly and then heading back out to the living room with him.

You came back out with Keeho to find that Shota and Intak had arrived as well and you were relieved to see the four of them having settled in the living room, making themselves at home as you hoped they would. Fortunately, nobody seemed to have heard the screams coming from Keeho’s door; or, if they did, they didn’t press.

After the chicken had arrived and everyone had had at least a couple drinks, the conversation centered on everyone’s Christmas plans.

Since your family was local, you didn’t have any major plans – you��d just planned to go to your parents’ place on Christmas Day to exchange gifts and have dinner, like you did every year.

Meanwhile, Shota explained that he’d be traveling to Japan to see his family and would be gone from right before Christmas to just before New Year’s. Taeyang was excited to hear that Shota would be back in time for the New Year’s party that he’d be hosting.

Intak had family that was not so far away but still out of town, so he’d be traveling to spend the holiday with his parents and two younger brothers.

Since Jiung had been busy this weekend, Keeho took the opportunity to talk about how nervous he was for Christmas. He’d be meeting Jiung’s family for the first time, and would be staying at Jiung’s grandparents’ house with him over Christmas weekend. He’d been telling Jiung that it was no big deal and that he was excited. While the excitement part was real, he hadn’t wanted to tell Jiung how terrified he really was.

On the outside, Keeho seemed like the most confident person you’d ever known, but throughout the years, you’d become intimately familiar with how much he craved the approval of others – despite his insistence that it didn’t matter what anyone thought of him. You and the others tried your best to encourage him and to tell him that Jiung’s family would adore him, and he seemed to feel a little better after confiding in you all.

Like your family, Taeyang’s family was also local, but they were going on a ski trip for the holidays. Jongseob, on the other hand, had no siblings and his parents would be out of town during Christmas for something work-related.

“Wait,” you said, after nearly glazing over what Jongseob had just said. “Jongseob, you’re not saying you’re just going to be at your dorm by yourself for Christmas? I misheard that, right?”

He shrugged bashfully and fixed the hair hanging in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine though. I told my parents I’d be staying with a friend for the holidays so they wouldn’t worry, but if I’m honest, the idea of spending it alone doesn’t actually seem as heartbreaking as it sounds,” he said with a laugh. “Especially after this term, it’ll be nice to have a day just to do nothing and see nobody. I like my alone time, anyways. It’ll be a good time to get some writing done.”

Taeyang tsked, explaining that he’d tried to get him to come on the family ski trip with him, but Jongseob didn’t feel comfortable with Taeyang’s parents paying for him to join. The rest of the group fussed over Jongseob, trying to convince him not to just stay at the dorm alone, but he insisted it was fine, and the conversation eventually moved on. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jongseob being all alone on Christmas. It didn’t sit right with you, and you found yourself distracted for the remainder of the evening.

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And, just like that, Christmas morning arrived. You threw on some matching flannel pajamas, perfectly cozy for a cold winter’s morning, and headed out to the kitchen. You’d already given Keeho his gift, a brand new coffeemaker, a few days early, since he was spending the weekend with Jiung’s family for the holiday as planned. You knew he’d end up taking it with him when he and Jiung inevitably found their own place, but in the meantime, you were certainly benefiting from it as well. You’d given Jiung a brand new silver chain, and before Shota left for Japan, you gave him a 3-D Godzilla puzzle. Taeyang got a bottle of cologne. For Jongseob , however…

You looked at the small parcel sitting on the table, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a sparkly string, and sighed. You imagined yourself driving to your parents’ house and it just didn’t feel how it usually did. You thought of Jongseob, alone in his dorm, his parents on holiday. His friends all with their families. You sipped your coffee and frowned, staring at the wall for what felt like forever. You felt a strange mixture of homesickness, boredom, and guilt.

What happened next was less of a decision, and more of an instinct. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialed your mom. She answered cheerfully but her mood instantly fell once you told her that you wouldn’t be making it, that you’d come down with something terrible and you couldn’t leave the house. She tried to come up with a solution, offering to have everyone come to you instead, but you insisted you didn’t want to even leave your bed, nor did you want to get anyone else sick. You told her it was really okay, that you would be fine, and after arguing back and forth for a while, she eventually capitulated, begging you to let her know if there was anything she could do for you, or if you changed your mind.

You ended the call and although you felt guilty about it, you knew she’d have your other siblings and family members to spend the day with. She’d be okay.

You stood in your empty space, nearly unable to believe what you were about to do, but instead of thinking it through more thoroughly, you gathered your things. You pulled out a reusable shopping tote and filled it with snacks, two unopened bottles of mulled wine, the homemade decorated sugar cookies that you were going to bring to your family, and the wrapped gift on the table.

You were about to head out the door when your stomach growled. Fuck , you said aloud in your empty house, looking at your bag with cookies, wine, and…nothing else to eat. You set the bag down and rushed into the kitchen, and started throwing together what would, in no time, become two breakfast burritos – messily wrapped in aluminum foil. You stuffed them into the bag and, after throwing on your winter coat and slipping on some sneakers, headed out.

After arriving at the university dorm parking lot and stepping out, you took a moment to take in the eeriness of it all. It felt like a ghost town, you thought, as you inhaled the biting cold air. You hesitated in front of the building, wondering if you should have called him first. The weight of your decision to come here suddenly dropped into your body like a sledgehammer and the determination you felt earlier was replaced by uncertainty. What’s the worst that could happen? If he wasn’t there, you would just go home, and he would never know. No harm done. Or, if he was there, he could send you away. For some reason, however, you couldn’t fully believe that possibility.

It began to snow. You looked up at the pale gray sky, the white flakes gently floating down towards you, and your shoulders relaxed a little. You took a deep breath, and walked into the building, not stopping until you were at his door. Your knuckles tapped at the wood three times, and you waited. For a few moments, nothing happened, and you didn’t even hear anything. Your heart raced. This was stupid. You shouldn’t have come here. He probably wasn’t even–

Your thoughts were cut short as the door cracked open and an adorable, sleepy face greeted you. He scrunched his eyebrows together. “What are you doing here?” Jongseob asked, looking confused but unable to hold back a hesitant smile. His eyes were a little bloodshot, his hair uncombed. He wore black sweatpants and an oversized university hoodie with sleeves way too long for his arms, making him look much tinier than usual.

You smiled and pushed past him, setting the bag down and sitting on the edge of his bed. On the periphery of your vision, you caught him swiping at the corner of his eye surreptitiously, and you spotted a few crumpled tissues littering the floor. Your heart ached, but you pretended not to notice.

You crossed your arms. “Spending Christmas with you, duh,” you replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

He immediately burst out laughing, face incredulous. “What are you talking about? What about the plans with your family?”

“They’re fine, don’t worry about it. What, are you too busy to hang out with me?” you retorted, immediately regretting the question as his face fell momentarily. However, he quickly recovered. “I mean, good point. I guess I am free. This is crazy, though, y/n. Are you serious?”

You stood up and wrapped your arms around him, and he hugged you back weakly. “Of course. It killed me imagining one of my best friends spending Christmas alone. I dunno. It’s just fucked up. I’m sentimental and it was eating me up inside, okay?” you said, pinching his cheek, and he smiled, slapping your hand away gently, then pulling you back into a hug. “Thank you,” he said into your hair. You replied by giving him a gentle squeeze and rubbing his back briskly. The doubt from earlier melted away, and you felt a deep reassurance that you’d made the right decision. This was exactly where you needed to be.

Jongseob cleared the dirty laundry off his bed and straightened out his blue comforter. He fluffed the pillows at the head of the bed and tried to arrange his plushies as well as he could, but they were always a bit of a mess, anyway. Meanwhile, you pulled out a couple mugs you’d brought from home – mugs, because wine glasses would have been way too delicate to travel in a tote bag. You opened one of the bottles and poured some into both mugs, then popped them into his dirty microwave, running it in small increments until they were steaming.

You handed him a mug and a breakfast burrito and laid the snacks out on his bed, along with the plastic container of homemade cookies, making him sit and get comfortable while you pulled up your Netflix account on his TV. You scrolled through for a minute, then landed a cheesy Christmas rom-com from the early 2000’s.

When you turned around, you saw Jongseob sitting at the head of the bed, a pillow in his lap, clutching the mug of wine with both hands. He looked like a cherub, cheeks round and lips in a subtle pout. You crawled onto the bed and sat beside him, sipping your wine, then looked at him and nudged him with your elbow. “What’s the problem? Tired of me already?”

He huffed, rolling his eyes and smiling subtly as he looked down at his mug. “Of course not. It’s just, you’re just…” he paused, scratching his nose and avoiding eye contact with you. “This is like, one of the nicest things anyone’s done for me,” he said, voice wavering slightly and leaning his head on your shoulder. Your chest ached once more, and you leaned your head against his. “It’s really nothing,” you said in a quiet voice, and he didn’t say anything further as the movie started.

The mood lifted as the two of you watched it, laughing at all the outdated references and cheesy jokes, and in awe of the way the fashion had started to become popular again amongst your own peers. You continued drinking the mulled wine and once you were both a couple glasses in, Jongseob became a little clingy, holding onto your arm affectionately. You felt like your heart could burst into a million pieces. You thought back to the first time you saw him at the library, and never imagined you’d end up caring for him so much.

As the movie came to a close and you both started looking for another one to turn on, you realized something.

“Oh! I just remembered, I brought something for you,” you exclaimed, and scrambled off the bed to the tote bag sitting on the floor. You rummaged through it and pulled out the parcel, and Jongseob ran a hand through his messy hair. “Dammit, you really didn’t have to,” he said, but you could see on his face how excited he was. He carefully opened the wrapping paper to reveal a copy of Herman Hesse’s Knulp that you’d found in a used bookstore. It was leatherbound in dark green with metallic gold lettering on the front, with worn, yellowing pages.

“No fucking way, this is perfect! I can’t believe you remembered. This is so… ugh. You’re the best,” he fawned, pulling you into a tight hug, but letting go quickly. “Okay. Now, I didn’t get the chance to wrap it yet because I didn’t think I’d be seeing you today, but I actually do have something for you as well.”

Your throat tightened. You hadn’t expected anything in return, and were suddenly very curious about what he’d gotten you, as he carefully searched through one of his bookbags.

“Alright, best I can do is have you close your eyes,” he said, and you rolled your eyes but closed them nonetheless, holding your hands out. You felt something the weight of a book land in your hands as well, the leathery texture cool and soft against your skin. “Okay, open,” he said, and you looked down to see a leather-bound book of some sort with no label. But as you opened it up and saw blank pages, you realized it was actually a journal.

“Wow, thank you!” you said, but Jongseob shook his head. “Read the first page!” he insisted.

You frowned, not realizing you’d missed anything, and when you opened to the first page of the journal, you saw his familiar handwriting:

Dear y/n,

Don’t ever stop writing. Your voice matters. Your words matter. Even if you think others don’t care what you have to say, even if you think others won’t read what you write, don’t think about that. If there’s thoughts in your head, write them down. If you have ideas, write them down. If there’s a story that lives in your head, don’t let it die before it even has the chance to breathe. Let it out onto the paper.

Love,

Jongseob

You didn’t even realize the tears coming until one of them rolled down your cheek and Jongseob sat down next to you on the bed and giggled. You looked up at him. “What the fuck, man?” you said, rubbing your eyes furiously, and he just laughed, pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back, holding onto him for dear life at first, then relaxing fully. He rested his chin on your head and held you there for what felt like forever. Eventually, you gently knocked your forehead against his chest. “Why are you so perfect?” you asked, the alcohol having warmed up your chest and loosened your lips.

He let out a laugh, high-pitched and breathy, his chest trembling against you. “Perfect? I dunno about that,” he replied, loosening his embrace and rubbing your back. You wiped at your face one last time. “Thank you,” you said, looking at your lap. “I appreciate you, probably a lot more than you realize.”

Jongseob didn’t respond, just got up to prepare a couple more mugs of mulled wine, then set them on his small nightstand and laid back on the bed. His upper body propped on pillows, he opened his arms and beckoned you towards himself, smiling warmly. “Come here, bro.”

Without another thought, you crawled onto the bed towards him and curled up into his side, letting him wrap his arms around you, your head resting on top of his chest. You wrapped an arm around his waist, surprised at how natural it felt, but choosing not to worry about any of that. It all just felt… good.

He grabbed the controller with his free hand and turned on another cheesy Christmas movie for the two of you to watch, and you relaxed into his embrace, relishing the comfort of the cozy afternoon.

Part of the way through the movie, Jongseob started to shift uncomfortably. “You okay?” you asked, speech mildly slurred. “Nah, I’m too warm; sorry, give me a sec,” he replied, crawling over you clumsily and pulling his hoodie off. You noted absently that he hadn’t been wearing anything under it, and made a point not to stare at the bare skin of his back before he pulled on a loose white tank top.

You sipped more of your wine as he crawled back into the bed beside you; you were way beyond the point of needing to drink more, but it felt so good. Everything just felt perfect, you thought, as you stared up at him, feeling warm, dazed, and content as you laid there side by side, almost fully horizontal at this point.

He looked back at you, face way too close to yours, the noise of the movie dull and no longer holding your attention. His eyelids heavy, he spoke in a low voice, nearly a whisper: “Are we still friends who get drunk and kiss each other sometimes?”

You let out a drunken giggle and nodded, holding his gaze for a moment before glancing down at his mouth. He reached a hand up to your cheek, swiping his thumb over it gently, before leaning in to kiss you. Compared to the last time, he was much gentler, his mouth moving against yours at a languid pace. Your hand found itself slipping under the hem of his shirt, resting gently on the soft skin of his hip as you kissed him back.

Eyes closed, you got lost in the sensation of his lips, his tongue swiping shyly into your mouth before you let him in completely, the way he exhaled through his nose, breath warm against your face, his breathing quickening ever so slightly. You removed your hand from under his shirt and wrapped your arm around him, pressing against his back, holding him close to you as his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck. He brushed his delicate fingers through your hair as he hummed into your mouth contentedly.

You became completely entranced, body pressed up against him, your mouths moving in tandem, slowly enough that you didn’t even need to come up for air. It all felt so comfortable, so warm and safe, so incredibly indulgent. You didn’t want it to stop, but at some point, eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, he disconnected his lips from yours and moved his head back so that he could look at you. His deep brown eyes gazed into yours and a dazed smile graced his lips, his cheeks tinged pink. He brushed his fingers through your hair again and you closed your eyes, relaxing under his touch, then opened them again a few moments later when he started speaking.

“Thank you for this. I have no idea what I did to deserve having you in my life. You really are the best.”

“You didn’t do anything. You’re just you. And that’s more than enough,” you responded, surprised at your ability to get coherent words to come out at this point.

He smiled dumbly. “This is so embarrassing but I had cried a little bit before you came over; just feelin sorry for myself like a loser.”

You laughed, covering your mouth. “I know. I could tell.”

He buried his head in your chest and groaned, laughing. “God, that’s even more embarrassing.”

You petted his head, gently combing your fingers through some of the tangles, and you could feel his tense muscles relax. “Don’t be embarrassed. Loneliness is, like, one of the most human experiences possible. I got you, though,” you said, squeezing him.

He sighed, then pulled away slightly so he could look at you again. You kissed the tip of his nose. “Merry Christmas, Jongseob.”

He smiled wide, his crooked canine peeking out. “Merry Christmas, y/n.”

Chapter 8

“So, how was Christmas with the fam?” Keeho asked, sipping some of the hot cocoa that he received as a gift from Jiung’s parents, who, as you’d expected, loved Keeho to pieces.

You choked on your coffee, having been taking a sip of it as he’d asked you this, and he gave you a worried smile while you collected yourself and started to breathe normally again. So far, Taeyang was the only person who knew about you and Jongseob spending the holiday together. Jongseob had told him about it and Taeyang had texted you privately, thanking you for keeping his best friend company.

“You okay?” Keeho asked from the other end of the couch, his tone slightly mocking but still warm, nonetheless. “Yeah. Yeah,” you responded, feeling your face heat up as you remembered the way you spent Christmas.

“It’s just… I didn’t actually… go to my parents for Christmas, like I planned,” you stammered, mentally preparing yourself for the interrogation.

“Whoah, really? What happened, you finally cut them off?” he asked with a bitter laugh that you returned. “No, nothing like that. I lied to them and told them I was sick. I… um… I actually went to Jongseob’s dorm and spent Christmas with him. I couldn’t bear the thought of him spending the day alone, y’know?” you asked, trying to sound casual and reasonable, but Keeho’s eyes had already widened.

“Hold up. Wait,” he said, setting his cocoa on the coffee table so that he could use both hands to talk, like the drama queen he was. “You’re telling me that you skipped Christmas with your family? For Jongseob? Am I hearing this right?”

“Well… I don’t like the way you’re saying it, but…” you whined weakly.

“Y/n, I’m literally just stating what you told me. If it sounds crazy, I’m not the one making it sound crazy.”

You rubbed your face. “Okay, yeah. I know. I know! Fuck,” you groaned. “I didn’t feel like it was that big of a deal, you know? My parents had all my siblings and extended family to spend the day with, but Seob? He had nobody. I dunno, it’s hard to explain, it’s like I didn’t have the ability to do anything else. I couldn’t not go see him. Like, I had to do it. Like I was being pulled towards him by some kind of invisible string.”

He made an incredulous expression at you, clearly judging you. “Look,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. “I know I sound like a fuckin’ weirdo. But it’s true. I’m being so for real right now.”

Keeho pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows, and grabbed his mug of hot cocoa from the coffee table. He side eyed you, and took a sip, saying nothing. You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, what? Just spit it out.”

“So you guys… just spent Christmas together. In his dorm room. Alone. As friends?”

“Yes.”

“Totally platonic, huh?”

“Yes! Well, like, spicy platonic.”

“Uh, no, pause. What the fuck does that mean?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

“You know! We’re just friends but we also cuddle and kiss sometimes, no strings attached? You’re gay as hell, Keeho, don’t tell me you haven’t been in a situation like this before,” you huffed, quickly tiring of his accusatory tone.

Keeho sighed and uncrossed his arms. “No, I’m intimately familiar with what you’re talking about. So on Christmas. That was more of a…spicy platonic hangout?”

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth and you kicked yourself inwardly. “Yeah. We got a little drunk. He gets pretty affectionate when he isn’t sober. It’s cute,” you said, sipping your coffee and letting out a sigh.

When you looked back up at Keeho, he had that semi-judgmental, semi-concerned expression on his face once again. You rolled your eyes. “Hey, this is not a big deal, okay? What’s the problem?”

“ You like him ,” Keeho stated, point blank.

“Oh, fuck off, Keeho. I like him as a friend, that’s it. Why the hell do you think I’m incapable of kissing someone without falling for them?”

He was silent for a moment. “You skipped Christmas . With your family . To go get drunk and make out with this guy. And–”

“Okay hold on, that is such an uncharitable way to frame it. I skipped Christmas with my family because one of my good friends was planning on spending it alone, so I wanted to keep him company. Why are you being such an ass about this?”

Keeho groaned and put his hands on his head. “Because I know you, dammit! Because I can see what’s happening, and I think you’re in denial!” he shouted, exasperated. Not angrily so, but clearly becoming annoyed with your stubbornness.

An uneasy silence fell over the room, and you sipped your coffee without looking up at Keeho. This conversation stressed you out. Not because you thought he was wrong, but because you were deeply worried that he might be right. The thought made you angry. Not angry at Keeho, or at Jongseob, or at anyone other than yourself. You were angry at the idea that you’d spent so much effort building a friendship with Jongseob, only to threaten it with ruin. You knew there was no way he was interested in you like that, and even if he was, it was your responsibility as the older person to stay away. It was just far too complicated.

“Listen, I’m not trying to stress you out. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with you two. You’re notoriously bad at keeping things casual, so I gotta look out for you, okay?” Keeho said, his voice much softer than before.

You scooted across the couch closer to him, and he wrapped an arm around you and gave you a loving squeeze. You pouted. “I know. And I appreciate it,” you said, leaning your head into the crook of his shoulder. “I mean. I definitely see your point, and you’re probably right to be concerned, but I do have every intention of just staying friends with him. I do like him a lot, but just platonically. It’s really nice to have someone who actually wants to talk about books with me.”

Keeho pinched your arm and you yelped, laughing. “Hey,” he defended, “it’s not my fault I’m not a nerd. ”

Once the laughter died down, Keeho’s voice sobered once more. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

You looked up and met his sharp, intense gaze. “I promise.”

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You’d desperately hoped that Keeho would be available to accompany you to Taeyang’s New Year’s party, but he’d made plans to spend the night at Jiung’s place. After how hard they went for Halloween, it was Jiung’s turn to make the decision on how to spend a party holiday, and for this one, he opted for a romantic night in, at his apartment. You were bummed, but you really couldn’t blame him.

After rummaging through your closet and tearing your bedroom apart, you’d finally found a miniskirt and top that went together, with accessories to match. You did your hair and makeup, took one final glance at yourself in the mirror, and headed to Taeyang’s.

The party was starting late into the night, and when you got to his place, most of the other guests had already arrived.

Shota answered the door and nearly knocked you over with the force of his hug. “Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here!” he yelled. One of your favorite things about Shota was that he never tried to hide his affection; he was probably one of the most genuine people you’d ever met. You slipped off your shoes quickly before he grabbed your hand and rushed you into the living room to join the others. As he walked you in, you noted his fitted pants, the slightly cropped tank top, the muscles rippling in his forearms, and found an unexpected blush creeping up your neck. He looked good .

As you entered the living room, however, you were gagged at the sight of everyone dressed their absolute best, and you were relieved you’d put some effort into your outfit tonight. You recognized a few of the guests from Taeyang’s last party and greeted them politely before turning to Taeyang. He wore black skinny jeans with a tucked-in scoop-neck white t-shirt that displayed his collarbones and a couple silver necklaces that hung delicately over his chest.

He gave you the biggest smile as he walked over to hug you. As you inhaled, you were overwhelmed with the scent of his cologne – the cologne that you’d bought him for Christmas. Mixed with the scent of his own body, it smelled better than you ever could have imagined.

“You look hot,” he said in a low voice before pulling away, and your mouth went dry. “Thanks bro. S-so do you,” you replied, pinching his side, and he screamed, flinching away from you before falling into your arms laughing as you walked with him into the kitchen to grab a drink.

You felt a squeezing sensation in your chest as your eyes found Jongseob, leaning against the counter in low-rise jeans and a pink and white baby tee. His nose ring had been switched back to a small hoop, and it looked like there was the smallest amount of glitter highlighting the inner corners of his eyes. He smiled wide once he saw you, and walked over to give you a hug. “Hi,” he said, squeezing you tight.

“Hi,” you replied dumbly, remembering everything Keeho had said days before, and suddenly starting to feel a light panic. You forced yourself to calm down as he introduced you to the beautiful girl standing next to him. “This is Nina,” he said, and you shook her hand cordially. “Nina, this is one of my best friends, y/n.” You noted the way she fluttered her eyes when she was listening to something he said, and you smiled, feeling your chest tighten again, but this time, the feeling wasn’t particularly pleasant. She looked around his age, maybe a little older, and was dressed head to toe in gothic attire, her dramatic makeup accentuating her large eyes.

Jongseob turned back to you. “Nina just started working at the library so I’ve been training her this past week.”

“Oh, that’s great!” you replied, and engaged in a little pleasant smalltalk about the library before finally grabbing a drink and going back out to the living room to join Shota and Taeyang. Intak was messing with the music before finally landing on something he could really dance to, and, powered by his energy, the entire living room turned into a huge dance party.

As you danced, Shota approached you from behind and placed his hands gently on your hips. You let him guide you and before long, you were shamelessly dirty dancing with him, ass fully up against his hips. Taeyang caught a glimpse of you two and started laughing maniacally; you felt Shota giggle behind you, and he leaned forward to ask into your ear: “This isn’t weird, right?”

You giggled back, shaking your head and placing your hands on top of his where they rested on your hips, until the end of the song. Shota then suddenly grabbed your hand and ran into the kitchen, dragging you with him. “Y/n, let’s do a shot!” he yelled, and you were helpless to refuse, as much as the idea of doing shots repulsed you. Your shot-taking days were technically long gone, but you supposed one couldn’t hurt.

As Shota pulled out two shot glasses, you glanced over to where Jongseob was still talking to Nina, both of them leaning against the counter. You noted the way she gently slapped his arm when he said something funny, the way she didn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. You raised the shot glass to Jongseob and raised an eyebrow, a silent question, as he made eye contact, and he smiled, shaking his head before turning back to Nina. You stuck your tongue out at him, and held the glass towards Shota as he poured, before you both swallowed the burning liquid and headed back out towards the living room.

The next song was much more sensual; this time around, you were facing Shota, your arms around his shoulders. He held your hips as the both of you swayed to the music, and the shot that you’d just taken with him started to make your head feel pleasantly warm and light. You leaned your head on his chest. You couldn’t quite place it, but there was something that felt like a dull sadness welling up in you, and the feeling of Shota’s body against yours felt good. He felt safe.

The song ended, and while another one started up, Shota pulled you into a hug, holding you close for several long moments. The gesture was unexpected, but it was exactly what you needed. You held onto him, burying your head in his chest, before he let go, grabbed your hand, and led you away from the dance floor and out to the back porch, wordlessly. He sat you down on the steps, lit a cigarette, and handed it to you before lighting his own.

A pregnant silence hung between you, but you weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure why he’d brought you out here. It felt good, though – the feeling of smoke in your lungs, the caress of the cold breeze on your bare skin. You could tell your makeup was smudged and your hair probably looked crazy at this point, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The phantom sound of Nina’s laughter at one of Jongseob’s jokes popped into your head and your expression turned sour; you took a long drag of the cigarette and started coughing, embarrassed as Shota patted your back soothingly.

You stared at the cement on the ground, at the chipped polish on your toenails, as the laughter and music from inside only increased in volume. “I can’t believe the year’s actually coming to an end,” you said in a low voice.

“Hm?” Shota asked, seemingly zoning out until a moment ago. You repeated yourself, and he smiled. “Yeah,” he said, looking down. “It’s been a good one, though. I’m really glad we met,” he said, and wrapped an arm around you warmly. You leaned into him and nodded. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

He kept his arm around you for a few moments longer and his body stiffened momentarily before he said, “Um, y/n…you don’t have to tell me about it, but I just want you to know. Whatever’s going on. I’m here to talk. If you need.”

You looked up at him, confused, and were blown away by the depth of his dark, round eyes; he looked sad, and you realized absently that he was probably sad for your sake. “Thanks, Shota,” you began, “but I’m not sure I–”

“ It’s countdown time!” Taeyang screamed through the door, interrupting your conversation, and you smiled briefly at Shota before the two of you stood up, quickly put out your cigarettes, and went back inside.

Everyone piled in and you smiled at Jongseob from across the room; Nina was hanging off of him at this point, clearly drunk. He smiled back at you, before joining in on the countdown.

Ten!... Nine!... Eight!... Seven!... Six!... Five!... Four!... Three!... Two!.. One!

You took one step toward Jongseob before watching Nina gently grab the front of his shirt and pull him down into a kiss.

You blinked once, stepped back, felt a hand on yours, and looked to your right to see Taeyang’s dark eyes on you. He guided your face to his and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You closed your eyes and kissed him more deeply, feeling tears threaten to spill. No. Don’t , you demanded of yourself. Don’t you dare , you screamed inwardly, and wrapped your arms around Taeyang’s shoulders as everyone around you cheered and drank champagne.

You wished you’d had more drinks in your system at this point, but you felt painfully sober. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, and he smiled softly. “Happy New Year,” he said, and you smiled weakly in response. You looked over and Jongseob and Nina were nowhere to be found. Your stomach turned. You looked over and saw Shota with Intak, messing with the music once again.

You felt your breathing becoming more rapid, your palms beginning to sweat. You didn’t want to be here anymore. Tears pricked at your eyes once again, but you forced yourself to stay calm.

“Hey,” you heard Taeyang’s voice say; it sounded like it was coming from a mile away. “Y/n?” he said, his voice sounding closer. “Come on,” he said, and you felt him pulling you down the hall. Once inside Taeyang’s bedroom, you began to feel a little better.

You sighed, plopping down on the edge of his bed. “Thanks, I think I was starting to get a little overstimulated,” you said.

Taeyang looked over at you from where he was pulling out his guitar, and his expression was a mixture of pity and confusion. “That’s what that was?”

You shrugged, running a hand through your hair. “Something like that.”

He sat cross-legged on the floor and began adjusting the tuning of his guitar, when you heard a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Taeyang yelled, and Jongseob cracked the door, peeking inside. “Oh, that’s where you guys are,” he said.

“Yep,” you responded dryly, and he looked a little taken aback. “What are… you guys doing?” he asked, not accusingly, simply curious.

“Just hanging out,” Taeyang replied, and you didn’t say anything, just pulled out your phone and began scrolling.

“Um… okay. Cool,” Jongseob said, and backed out before shutting the door quietly.

You picked at the dead skin around your fingernails. Taeyang finished tuning his guitar and sat on the bed with you. “I learned a new song recently. Do you listen to Mitski at all?”

You nodded, feeling numb. “Yeah, a little.”

“Can I play it for you? Will you be honest and tell me what you think?”

This was so not the time, but you weren’t sure what else to say, so you reluctantly agreed.

Taeyang cleared his throat before beginning. You were impressed, as always, by his ability to play and sing so well at the same time.

“ My baby, my baby

You're my baby, say it to me

Baby, my baby

Tell your baby that I'm your baby

I bet on losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place by the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I'll be there on their side

I'm losing by their side”

After this last line, he looked up at you and his playing faltered before coming to a complete halt, as he saw the tears on your face. He set his guitar down on the floor. “Hey, what the hell? What’s wrong with you, dude?” he asked insistently, rushing to sit next to you and cupping your face in his hands, swiping at the tears with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry,” you replied dumbly, before crumpling into his arms and sobbing for a good minute.

As you calmed down, you looked back up at him and laughed wryly. “I probably look so ugly right now,” you said, and he shook his head with a smile. “Never,” he replied, pinching your cheek. “You always look beautiful. Always.”

You were grateful that he didn’t seem like he was going to press further into the reasoning behind your breakdown.

“You’re so sweet, Taeyang. Thanks for being my New Year’s kiss.”

He waved dismissively. “Hey, what are friends for?”

“True,” you replied, a heavy silence filling the air, and the room suddenly feeling much smaller.

You looked up at him, and his eyes were so dark and beautiful, his lips full and soft as always; his hand met your cheek as he guided you into a kiss once again, this time, much less chaste than the one you shared in the living room. Now was not the time for this, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. You were wallowing in self pity, needing to drown out every negative emotion that you’d just felt within the past half hour.

So you kissed Taeyang back, and then you kissed him some more. You let your skirt ride up and didn’t bother to fix it. As a matter of fact, you decided to straddle his lap, causing your skirt to ride up even further, and his hands wandered to your exposed ass; you’d worn nothing but a lace thong, and once he realized this, he moaned into your mouth and palmed at the soft flesh of your ass, then your thighs, before wandering to your stomach, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.

He paused momentarily. “Hey,” he said, breaking the kiss to look at your face intentionally. “You’re not drunk, right?”

You shook your head, panting. “No. Just a little tipsy is all. I’m fine,” you responded.

“You’re sure?” he asked, gripping your hips. You responded by grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head to toss it on the floor. Taeyang’s face flushed bright red as his eyes darted to your exposed chest, his fingertips pressing into you ever harder.

“Positive,” you replied, shoving down all the alarm bells telling you not to do this, screaming that you’d regret it.

You continued suppressing these alarms as Taeyang took one of your nipples into his mouth, your head thrown back in ecstasy. They became quieter as he slipped a hand underneath your skirt, causing you to rut against him before he fished a condom out of the drawer of his nightstand and rolled it onto himself.

By the time you were underneath him, your legs wrapped around his lower back as he thrust into you again and again, you’d stopped having thoughts – only sensations. You relished in the feeling of his mouth against yours as his hips rolled into you, your hands wrapped around his back, anchoring you against him.

It felt so good, he felt so good, that initially, you didn’t know why you’d started crying as soon as his hips stuttered to a halt, his orgasm shaking through him. Taeyang panicked once he realized, pulling out of you gently and stroking his hand through your hair.

“Y/n, are you okay? Please say something. Did I hurt you? Oh my god,” he fretted, holding you to his chest, which was heaving from the previous exertion.

You held onto him desperately, your face wet with tears, mixing with the sweat on his chest. An angelic face flashed through your head, a smile with a single crooked fang, a nose adorned with a silver hoop, and a new sob made its way through your body as Taeyang rubbed your back soothingly.

“No, it’s nothing you did, Taeyang, I’m sorry. This is all my fault,” you said, voice damp with tears.

“Okay…okay. Do you need anything? Do you want to get dressed?” he asked, voice dripping with worry. You nodded your head, and he immediately got out of bed, threw on some boxers, and rummaged through his dresser drawers to find a pair of sweatpants and a soft t-shirt.

“Can you put your arms up for me?” he asked, slipping into bed beside you again. You complied and he pulled the shirt down onto you, then lifted your hips off the bed to slide the sweats onto you as well, before pulling you into his arms.

Several moments of silence passed before he spoke up again. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You shook your head and held onto him more tightly.

“Okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. Do you want to go home?”

You shook your head again, and he sighed.

“You know I care about you, right? A lot?” He said, running his fingers through your hair.

You nodded, tears threatening to spill again.

“Okay. As long as you know that,” he said, and that was the last thing you heard him say before you drifted off into a fitful, restless sleep.

Chapter 9

You woke up slowly, lazily, with your face pressed against soft skin. The lingering, subtle scent of a familiarly sensual, musky cologne filled your nostrils, and without opening your eyes, you remembered that it was Taeyang that you’d gone to bed with. Your eyes fluttered open but you didn’t move; you had an arm wrapped around his bare waist, underneath his own arm which had held you close, seemingly all night.

By the sounds of his long, deep breaths, it appeared that he was still asleep, and you took advantage of the situation to relax into his body, savoring the warmth of his touch before reality fully hit.

The previous night was fuzzy, even though you didn’t remember drinking much. You remembered dancing with Shota and blushed lightly, recalling the feeling of his hips pressed up against you. You’d never really looked at Shota that way before, so it had surprised you. It had seemed harmless enough, though, and you hoped that you hadn’t given him the wrong idea. You were just having fun, after all.

But more than anything, you had a sinking feeling deep in the pit of your stomach, like the kind of feeling when something terrible happens but you forget momentarily, right before it all comes crashing back to you.

...and then it did.

Nausea pooled in your stomach and a lump formed in your throat as you remembered making eye contact with Jongseob at midnight, right before Nina had pulled him down into a kiss. You have no idea who initiated it, but you recalled kissing Taeyang, and then the next thing you knew, you were sleeping with him.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes, and your breathing quickened. You’d used Taeyang. You’d used him without a second thought, and you had no idea if this was casual for him or if it had meant anything. You closed your eyes and pressed your head into his chest lightly while you tried to relax your breathing and think rationally, but the subtle movement seemed to have awoken him.

He groaned and inhaled deeply, before exhaling and moving his hand up to gently stroke his fingers through your tangled hair; giving up, once he realized that it was no simple task, and opting instead to pet your head lightly. You smiled weakly against his chest and pulled back slightly to look up at him.

“Hey, you,” he said with the briefest flicker of a smile, before worry tugged his features into a gentle frown. He was beauty incarnate, his deep brown eyes boring into you, and despite the messiness of the situation, you couldn’t deny that a small part of you felt impressed that you’d pulled him , of all people. You kicked yourself inwardly for the thought.

Your eyes flitted to his mouth; his lips were chapped and he had a couple small blemishes forming on his chin. A light stubble grew on his upper lip and you felt your stomach do something funny; the sadness of the night before being temporarily silenced as you leaned up to kiss him.

He froze for a moment before kissing you back hesitantly, then pulled back and held your face still, looking at you with worry-filled eyes. “Hey. Y/n. Don’t you think we should, you know, talk?”

You shook your head and smiled deviously, removing his hands from your head as you leaned back up to kiss him again, wanting to think of nothing, wanting to drown everything out, wanting Taeyang. He kissed you back more deeply this time and with the inch that he gave, you took a mile – swinging your leg over his hips and ending up on top of him, straddling him as you kissed him more urgently, his tongue licking into your mouth as the bulge in his boxers grew in size and firmness.

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this again, but you weren’t thinking. You just wanted to be numb. Distracted. Fucked until you couldn’t remember your own name, much less what had happened the night before. You ignored the fact that your breath probably smelled awful, ignored the gnawing feeling in your gut that you needed to slow down.

Fortunately, as you reached down to palm at Taeyang’s erection, he pulled away from the kiss with a gasp.

“Y/n, wait,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, and you froze, pulling your hand back up to the side of his head to support yourself as you hovered over him patiently. Shame pooled in your gut as he looked up at you; you could just tell that he was about to say something sensible, something that would bring you back down to earth, and before he opened his mouth again, you crawled off of him and sat next to him.

“Sorry,” you mumbled in apology as you sat up against the head of his bed, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of shame that was threatening to swallow you whole at this point.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” he said, moving into a seated position and grabbing one of your hands. “First of all, please don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, pulling your hand up to his mouth and kissing the center of your palm. You softened under his touch, and could feel your walls threatening to crumble.

“I just, for my own conscience… I need to make sure you’re okay. And something tells me you’re not.”

It was more of a statement than a question, but he still stalled, like he was waiting for an answer.

You sighed and gripped his hand as you looked at your lap, thankful for his anchoring touch.

“To be clear, y/n, you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. I just feel bad, because I had a feeling there was something up with you last night, but my dick got in the way of my brain. I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret,” he said the last statement the most quietly, but the most sincerely. You nodded, not yet able to form words.

He cleared his throat. “I also want to make it clear that… what we did last night was strictly physical. I’m really… not in a headspace for… um…” he paused, clearly trying to think of the most sensitive way to say what he needed to say.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I care about you, but I don’t think I could care about you in any romantic way. At least not right now. I hope that doesn’t come as a disappointment, because I really enjoyed what we did, but I value your friendship even more.”

Your heart swelled. You really didn’t deserve him.

You took in a deep breath, then closed your eyes as you exhaled. You opened your eyes and looked at him, and realized he was still in nothing but his boxers; for some reason, it made you feel an intense tenderness towards him.

“First of all, I want to reiterate that I should be apologizing. I completely used you last night. For sex.”

You searched his face, worried about how he would respond, but he just smiled and let out a soft giggle. “I know, dummy. And I let you. On purpose. It’s okay.”

You let out a breathy laugh in relief, terrified that he’d be mad at you. “Okay. Good… I think,” you said, scrunching your face up, uneasy about the whole situation. “Second of all, we’re on the same page about… whatever you said about it being physical only. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m right there with you.”

You paused, wondering if you should say anything about Jongseob and Nina. You hadn’t even taken the time to figure out your own thoughts or emotions on the situation, because every time the image of her kissing him flashed through your head, your stomach violently turned, and the back of your eyes stung.

“Okay, that’s good,” Taeyang said calmly, and you looked up at him, realizing that you’d looked away and had been zoning out a little. He gave you a gentle smile and in that moment, you felt like everything might actually be okay. It was gone the next moment though, as he continued, “I know I said that whatever’s wrong, you don’t have to tell me, but I do want you to know that I’m here… if you want to talk. No pressure, though.”

You nodded. “I appreciate that. But I don’t think I’m ready to admit to myself what’s going on yet, much less talk about it with someone else. Think I’m gonna stay in denial for as long as I can,” you said with a quiet laugh, then looked up at him.

He gave you a sad smile and rubbed his thumb soothingly over your hand, which he was still holding. “Yeah, I get it. Denial can be fun,” he said, and his expression turned more serious as he leaned down slightly to press his lips to yours, just once this time.

“I agree,” you said with a smirk, before shifting your body so that you were laying sideways, your head resting in his lap, facing away from him. He ran his fingers through your hair and you sighed at his touch, feeling your body relax for the first time since you’d woken up.

Later, at home, you laid in bed and stared at Jongseob’s contact in your phone. You’d already been there for a good ten minutes, flip flopping back and forth about whether or not to text him. What would you even say? Were you going to ask him what was up with Nina? No , you decided. It really wasn’t any of your business.

But wait… wasn’t it, though? You were his friend – you had a right to know. Or at least, to ask. But the real problem was the reason you wanted to know. You didn’t want to ask because you were his buddy and wanted to high five him; no, it was because you were fucking jealous, and none of the lies you told yourself could hide that fact, anymore.

Eventually, you decided on something neutral.

y/n: hey dude, you make it home okay last night?

jongseob: yeah

y/n: good. just wanted to make sure

jongseob: thx

y/n: happy new year

jongseob: yep. u2

y/n: thanks…u good?

jongseob: 👍

You frowned at your phone, and a hint of anger flashed through your chest at his responses. Was he mad at you? Or did you no longer matter to you, now that he had some pretty girl to distract himself with?

You tossed your phone beside you on the bed and stormed out to the kitchen, your footfalls echoing through the house as you pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed a beer.

As you popped it open, Keeho walked through the front door. He looked at you, then the beer, and grimaced, checking the time on his phone to see that it was only about noon.

“Rough night?” he asked, kicking his shoes off.

“Yep. Got laid, though,” you said as you took a huge swig of the beer.

Keeho stood back up and looked at you with a dazzling smile, like a kid in a candy shop.

“Couch, now. Tell me everything.”

Chapter 10

As winter term began, cold settled into the bones of your small town. The colorful leaves gave way to barren, gnarled tree branches – their life not exactly gone, but certainly hidden. Asleep.

And with this cold, this barrenness, came a deep chill to your relationship with Jongseob.

You missed him. Badly. Even though you were angry with the way he’d been so distant and seemingly uncaring, lately, you couldn’t help remembering the times spent in his dorm, talking about books, class, life, dreams, and everything in between. The last good memory you’d had with him had been Christmas, that perfect day, anchored in some sort of limbo dreamworld, completely shut off from the rest of everything.

By this point, you’d come to accept the unfortunate fact that you felt something for him. At your age, it was embarrassing to admit this to yourself, that someone so young had this kind of power over you, but with the recent distance had come perspective. A perspective that showed you how deeply you really cared for him.

Yet, despite these newly acknowledged feelings, was something so much deeper. You’d connected with Jongseob on a level unlike anything you’d experienced before, and to be apart from him like this, to be kept at a distance, to feel yourself slipping away from him, was so painful that you were determined to figure out what was going on. If it had been anyone else, you probably would have given up immediately, because normally, it wouldn’t be worth it to beg someone to stay in your life if they didn’t want to be there.

But with Jongseob, it was somehow different. You had to at least try.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The way he’d texted you on New Year’s was the way he’d continued texting thereafter. Dry, curt, frustratingly detached. And you were always the one to reach out first. Asking how he was doing, sending him things that reminded you of him, inviting him to study hangouts.

All you’d get were one- or two-word responses, most of the time. How was he doing? Good . He didn’t ask it back. Was he free to do homework together? Sorry, not today. Except instead of it just being “not today,” it was every day. He was never available anymore. It both hurt and angered you.

A few weeks into the term, you walked into the library with Taeyang and Shota on a day that Jongseob was working there. You’d made plans to do so, and you weren’t sure if the other two were aware of Jongseob’s schedule in the same way that you were.

That morning, you’d rummaged through your closet to find something to wear. You usually leaned towards more casual styles, and as you sifted through the pairs of jeans, cargos, the oversized button-ups, hoodies, and sweaters, you paused.

Sitting on your bed, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Jongseob’s image flashed through your mind, followed by Nina’s, and it all slowly came into focus.

You were trying to dress to impress him.

Your previous sense of frustrated desperation gave way to anger, and you stuffed your clothes back into your closet, into the drawers of your dresser, and threw on an outfit that you’d worn before. Something you were comfortable in. Something that made you feel like yourself. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, telling yourself that it was enough. Telling yourself that you didn’t owe anyone anything different. Nevertheless, however, your chest felt heavy as you slung your backpack over your shoulder and left your front door that morning.

After your afternoon class, you walked through the front doors of the university library with Taeyang and Shota on either side of you. Your eyes immediately found Jongseob at the circulation desk; there was no way he’d be able to miss you. There was no sign of Nina, at least not at the moment.

As he looked up at the three of you walking in, he gave you a little wave and a polite smirk. Nothing he wouldn’t have done for any library patron coming through. At least he didn’t ignore you , you thought, and immediately rolled your eyes at yourself for thinking this way.

You found yourself annoyed and distracted as the three of you sat down at your usual table. Shota got up to use the restroom, and you immediately angled your chair to face Taeyang.

“Hey,” you said, not sure how to start this conversation.

“Hey,” Taeyang responded, looking back at you with a curious expression.

“Do you know if…” you began, hesitating. You rested your chin in your hand, elbow propped up on the table, eyes evading him. “Does Jongseob know we slept together?” you asked in a quiet voice.

Taeyang shrugged. “Hell if I know. I probably would have talked to him about it by now, but…yeah, I know, but it’s just how it is – we’re best friends, okay?” he interjected, noticing your offended expression. “Anyway. I probably would have talked to him about it but he’s been avoiding me since New Year’s. I dunno what his deal is. Keeps acting like he’s super busy this term but I can’t figure out why. Something’s up with him but I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Yeah,” you replied, looking down thoughtfully. “He’s been weird towards me, too.”

“Hm,” Taeyang responded distractedly, typing away on his computer, clearly preoccupied and not noticing how disturbed you were by the conversation, but you didn’t mind. You hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of it – at least not right now.

You spent nearly the remainder of the afternoon at the table with Taeyang and Shota, working on various assignments. The table was close enough that you continuously heard short muffled snippets of conversation between Jongseob and his coworkers, the occasional giggle escaping him, and it became difficult to focus.

You looked at Taeyang and Shota from across the table and your eyes stung, a lump forming in your throat. “Hey,” you said softly, distracting them from their work; they both looked up at you with questions in their eyes. “Promise me if you guys are ever upset with me, you’ll just tell me? Don’t just stop talking to me with no explanation?”

Taeyang’s face softened and he smiled, shaking his head. “You don’t have to worry about that, y/n.”

You huffed and rested your chin on your fist, frowning. Shota, however, looked confused. “I can’t see you ever making me upset. But why are you saying this? Is someone doing that to you?”

You shrugged in defeat, avoiding his eyes, and he immediately got up from his chair to come sit next to you. He wrapped both arms around you and you couldn’t help giggling as you hung your head, leaning into his embrace. “I would never ghost you, y/n. I love you too much.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you looked up at Taeyang, who was smiling wide, then up at Shota, who was looking at you with shining eyes. He pulled you into himself and you returned his embrace, squeezing him tight. “I love you too, Shota. A lot. I’m glad we met.”

“Me too,” he said, messing up your hair before he let go of you. You laughed, smoothing it down. His face became serious again, as he said, “I’m not too good at confrontation, so I’m not really one to talk when it comes to this, but you don’t deserve to have someone treat you like that. No matter the reason. You at least deserve to know.”

You sighed. You knew he was right, but there were so many things at play, here.

Laying in your bed that night, you mentally sorted through all the different layers.

On one hand, you’d developed some sort of feelings for Jongseob, and wondered if you should let his friendship go after all – regardless of how it happened. That way, you could avoid dealing with them, and with worrying about whether or not he felt the same way. If he didn’t feel the same way, you’d have to deal with whatever rejection or awkwardness followed – in the case that you ever confessed. If he did feel the same way…then… what next? Would you date him? A young undergraduate student who still lived in the dorms and had never even really been on his own? Was a relationship with someone like him even viable?

If you set aside all the concerns about your feelings , there was also the not insignificant fact that you’d developed what you thought was a strong friendship with him. You’d opened up to him, shown him some of the more vulnerable parts of yourself, and unless you were mistaken, you’d made a serious connection with him – as a friend.

Then, there was the question about why he’d been treating you so strangely. It had started right after the New Year’s party. The same party at which he’d foregone hanging out with you to be near his new coworker who seemed particularly fond of him; who was extremely attractive; who had kissed him at midnight.

Was he really treating you like this because of a girl? Had they started dating, and was he just disappearing off the face of the earth because of it? You’d never imagined he’d be that kind of person, but truth be told, you didn’t know him that well, and had never seen him in a relationship before. But at the same time, it just didn’t seem like him. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you didn’t care. Unfortunately, as much as you wish you could just not give a fuck… you did .

You opened your phone, and went to the message thread between you and Jongseob. The last message had been him shooting down your most recent request to hang out. You sighed, feeling conflicted. But tonight, for some reason, you were feeling brave.

y/n: hey

jongseob: hey

y/n: wyd

jongseob: nothin. Wbu

Well, that was more of a response than you’d been getting, you supposed.

y/n: nothin. wanted to see if you were free tomorrow to do homework together

jongseob: sorry, can’t. busy

You breathed through the frustration that you felt flowing through your body, and decided not to back down this time.

y/n: why? what are you doing tomorrow?

There was a long pause before he answered, and you almost thought he was going to ignore you, when you saw the notification from him.

jongseob: hanging out with someone

Your heart rate quickened, and you could feel the beginnings of nausea start to rise in your gut.

y/n: who?

jongseob: nina

You took a couple deep breaths and braced yourself.

y/n: are you guys, like, dating or something?

Another long pause, and you had nearly fallen asleep when the buzzing of your phone grabbed your attention.

jongseob: no. why

You weren’t sure if relief was the correct word for the emotion you were feeling, because you still felt sick.

y/n: just curious, because i’m your friend

You were now fully awake, and waiting on a response from him, even though it didn’t really warrant one. So you decided to go against your better judgment, and lean into your weaker side.

y/n: i am still your friend, right?

You woke up to your phone alarm, rubbing sleep out of your eyes as the morning sunlight came through your window. The memories of the previous night came flooding back to you and you were flooded with uneasiness. You opened up your text messages to look at the conversation between you and Jongseob.

He’d never responded to your last message.

Chapter 11

The remainder of winter term felt like a blur; not that it went by quickly, but that you couldn’t quite focus on anything fully.

You spent the season letting go of various things.

Your hair, first of all – it had grown out and was completely unruly at this point. You needed a haircut. You’d heard that hair held memories, stored trauma. Maybe, just maybe, if you cut your hair, you wouldn’t wake up every morning so sad and tired. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Your coursework, second of all: you were doing the absolute bare minimum, and that was all your professors were going to get out of you.

And also…

Jongseob. Most of all, you were trying your damnedest to let go of Jongseob, painful as it might be.

That text that you’d sent him on the first day of the year, asking if you were still friends, had remained unanswered. You’d considered reaching out again, but your ego had been hurt too badly at this point. You’d wanted to confront him, wanted to ask what the hell was going on, why he had pushed you away. But after showing the exchange to Keeho and being reminded of your worth by someone who truly cared about you, you decided to try and be at peace with it all.

To take care of yourself, you’d started avoiding the library, opting to do your homework in cafes, at home — anywhere he wasn’t.

You hadn’t had a fully honest conversation with Taeyang about the situation yet, but you’d at least spoken to him about the way Jongseob had clearly been withdrawing, and Taeyang was experiencing something similar. He’d tried talking to Jongseob about it but he just brushed off all of Taeyang’s concerns, telling him he was being too overbearing. That he was just busy. That this term was a lot. That was all , he continued insisting.

Since you were avoiding the library, Taeyang and Shota had begun to spend more time at your place with you to study and hang out. You noticed Shota hugging you for moments longer than usual, doing little favors for you, bringing your favorite snacks and drinks, and just overall being nicer to you. You figured he could tell something was up with you, and once again were awestruck by how intuitive he was. You hadn’t spoken to him about the drama with Jongseob, but you didn’t feel like you needed to. He’d probably figured it out by now, anyway. Taeyang probably had, as well.

Your physical relationship with Taeyang had mostly fizzled out. You were too busy and depressed to try to navigate any more of what had happened between you on New Year’s, and he understood that, keeping his distance. He stayed close, though, much like Shota did. They’d become a consistent fixture in your life, something you deeply appreciated, especially lately.

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As the blur of winter term came to a close, and a boring, uneventful spring break passed by you, the promise of spring arrived in the form of longer days, green buds on trees, and a brand new class schedule.

You were taking a literature class and a writing class, both of which were quite advanced and sure to take up all of your time. Unfortunately, you didn’t share either of these classes with Taeyang or Shota, so it would be more difficult than usual for you to meet up with them for study dates. You hoped that your schedules didn’t conflict too much, you thought, as you entered your first class, that morning – a writing class.

You’d slept poorly the night before and were still in the process of waking up. You took the only remaining empty seat in the room without paying much attention to your seatmate, when suddenly, your senses were assaulted by a familiar cloyingly sweet scent. You glanced over and couldn’t see his face behind his hair and the hood covering his head, but you recognized Jongseob’s oversized gray hoodie, and his delicate tan fingers peeking out from his sleeves and resting on the desk. Your stomach turned, and without much subtlety, you looked around the room frantically. To your dismay, you’d shown up so late that there were no other empty seats.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and tried to ignore the burning pain of being in such close proximity with him after he basically went no contact; you considered just leaving and emailing your professor with some excuse about being sick, but you’d done so poorly the previous term that you truly couldn’t afford to. Your face burned as you pulled out your laptop and logged into your note-taking program, the subtle noise of backpacks and quiet conversations muffled from your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He had to recognize that it was you by this point, but made no indication of knowing you; no greeting, no eye contact, nothing.

So you did your best to ignore him, ignore the shame and hurt and anger flowing through your body, and focus on the orientation, the syllabus as explained by the professor. By the end of the course period, you were emotionally exhausted from trying to hold it together and darted out of the classroom as soon as you were dismissed.

Once you’d arrived home, you threw your backpack on the ground, kicked off your shoes, and headed straight to your bedroom to bury yourself under the covers. You were powerless against the tears that began to spill down your face, and you gave in to the feeling of dread, of shame, of deep sadness that tormented you. You curled onto your side, sobbing, holding one of your pillows for comfort.

Even though you’d expected to see him on campus at some point, you had no idea it would affect you this much. You’d been completely disconnected from how badly you missed him, how desperately you wanted to be near him, and how clear it was that he didn’t want to have anything to do with you. As you mulled over these thoughts, a fresh wave of tears spilled out, a new and particularly broken sob making its way out of you.

Knock knock knock , you heard at your bedroom door, and cursed under your breath.

“Sup?” you said, voice wet, but trying to make it sound normal.

“You okay, babe?” Keeho called out from the other side.

You hesitated, unsure of whether or not you wanted to lie and be left alone, or tell the truth.

“I’m coming in, okay?” he said, and you realized you’d hesitated for too long. You quickly wiped at your face as he peeked in, and his face fell once he saw yours. “Hey, what the hell’s going on?” he said as he knelt down by the bed in front of you, reaching under the covers to grab your hands.

“Your hair,” you choked out through sniffles, noticing that he’d dyed his maroon hair back to a full, grayish black.

Keeho snorted and looked at you from behind his rectangular framed glasses, eyes full of pity. “Girl, I know you’re not crying because of my hair.”

You laughed through your tears. “It looks good,” you said, voice gravelly and full of grief as you wiped more tears from your eyes. Keeho ran out to the living room and returned with a box of tissues, handing you one. You took a moment to collect yourself, blow your nose, and dry your tears, but it was no use since they kept coming.

“Goddammit, what happened to you?” Keeho asked incredulously as he crawled into your bed and gathered you into his arms. You rested your head against his soft chest and grabbed one of his pecs.

You sniffed and giggled through your tears. “All that working out’s been paying off,” you said as he swatted your hand away and laughed, squeezing you so that you couldn’t grab him again. You nuzzled your face into his chest and sighed, smiling. “Boobies.”

“Oh my fucking god, y/n, are you gonna tell me what’s going on or are you just gonna keep sexually harassing me?” Keeho said, completely void of anger –you could hear the smile in his voice. Your smile disappeared and you sighed, knowing you couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer.

A moment of silence hung in the room as you composed yourself and cleared your throat. You sniffled quietly. “Jongseob’s in one of my new classes.”

“Oh god, that fucker? What did he say to you, is he being an asshole?” Keeho replied, immediately angry.

“He hasn’t said anything to me. He didn’t even look at me. I ended up sitting next to him by accident and he pretended I didn’t exist.” Your voice had started to waiver.

Keeho rubbed your back. “Can you transfer to a different class?”

“No, I already checked. All the other classes I could possibly transfer to are completely full with full waitlists. I could drop the class and just take one for the term, but it would totally screw over my financial aid situation. I hate this.”

“Shit,” Keeho replied in a quiet voice as he continued rubbing your back. “Maybe you could at least try to avoid sitting next to him, to start with – I don’t mean that in a rude way – just… that might be the best you can do, for now.”

“Yeah,” you replied, voice almost a whisper. “Keeho…”

“What?” he said, half-laughing.

“I miss him. I miss him so much,” you replied, sobs escaping you once again as Keeho held you and shushed you while you cried.

Keeho sighed, likely holding back some choice words towards Jongseob, knowing that now was not the time. “I know,” he said. “I know you do. It’ll get easier.”

It’ll get easier. You rolled the words around in your head, and tried to take comfort in them, but you just couldn’t. To accept that it would get easier meant accepting losing Jongseob for good, and you just weren’t ready for that yet. But in the meantime, you weren’t sure what else you were supposed to do. You couldn’t force him to like you back, or even to be his friend. But being forced to take the same class as him would prove to be emotionally atrocious. For the first time, you wished that you’d gone to a larger university with those huge lecture halls, but no – you were stuck in a small classroom, forced to be in close proximity with him no matter where you sat.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on in there?” Keeho asked, ruffling your hair gently.

You groaned into his chest and bumped your head against it. “I don’t want it to get easier. I want him.”

“Oh for god’s sake, girl, he does not deserve you after how immature he’s been acting. Sorry, but someone’s gotta say it!”

“I know you’re right. I just. It just hurts,” you said, eyes watering again. “This just sucks so bad. And it’s so embarrassing to feel like this, too. Crying over someone so much younger than me who clearly doesn’t care if I live or die. I’m fucking pathetic.”

“Ssshh, don’t say that. I mean, you are a little pathetic. But only I can say that about you. It makes me sad when you say it about yourself, especially when you’re crying,” Keeho responded, eliciting a small giggle from you.

You were starting to feel a little better after letting out so much pent-up emotion. “What are you doing today?” you asked.

“Nothing. I had a shoot scheduled later today but it ended up getting canceled. Wanna order delivery and watch trash tv?”

“There’s nothing I want more,” you said with a smile, looking up at him, and he beamed back at you, pinching your cheek and making a pouty baby face. You slapped his hand away, laughing, and crawled out of his grasp to head towards the living room.

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A few classes went by and you’d hardened yourself to Jongseob’s presence in the class. You had fortunately managed to make your way to one row ahead of him. As much as you hated the idea of being perceived by him, it was better than having to look at him yourself during the entire class.

During the third week of the term, your professor casually mentioned that there would be a slight change to the syllabus, and that the midterm project would be a group project done in pairs. The entire classroom groaned at the revelation of this new detail, and the professor quickly dismissed everyone’s frustrated muttering, saying that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded, and that everyone would be receiving an email with the list of group partners. You felt your body go hot, your hands starting to sweat. You didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Sure enough, later that evening, you opened up your email inbox and saw the unread message from your professor. You read through the names, looking for yours, and to your horror, you found it, sticking out like a curse, right in the middle of the list:

Y/N and Jongseob

You wanted to cry. It was bad enough having to share a class with him, but this was unimaginable. You flopped down on your bed and took a few deep, steadying breaths. You told yourself you were being dramatic, that you needed to grow up, that you–

buzzzz

The sound of your phone vibrating distracted you, and your stomach flipped once you unlocked it.

jongseob: hey. looks like we’re paired together for that group project

y/n: seems to be the case

Several minutes passed before you got the next message, and you hated the way you felt when your phone vibrated again.

jongseob: let’s meet up to talk about it this weekend if ur free

y/n: fine. where

jongseob: is it okay if we do it at ur place? my roommate’s been here a lot lately so it’s a little cramped

y/n: yep

jongseob: ok. see you then

You threw your phone on the bed next to you and rubbed your face aggressively, screaming into your hands. Nervous didn’t even begin to describe how you felt.

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The weekend came much too soon.

You and Jongseob had agreed to meet mid-morning, and since Jiung was over this weekend and was hanging out in the living room with Keeho, you figured the best place to discuss the project would be your bedroom. You paced around your room nervously after tidying up and making sure he’d have a clear workspace at your desk. You planned to just sit on your bed across from him while you talked.

You opened your laptop, logged into it, looked at the assignment handout once again, closed it, and sighed. It was completely beyond you, how you were going to actually do this. You felt like you were walking into a lion’s den – everything about this situation was diametrically opposed to your survival instincts. Were you just supposed to pretend like nothing was wrong? How would he act? You kicked yourself, realizing you probably could have asked your professor if you could switch partners. Surely, she would have understood. Too late now, though; you cursed under your breath.

You’d stood up to start pacing around the room again when the doorbell suddenly rang. You snapped to attention, blood draining from your face, and went to answer the door.

You opened it to find Jongseob, looking drop dead gorgeous as usual, his backpack slung over one shoulder. His honey-blonde and golden brown two-tone hair was a little wavy today and had started to grow out a little, exposing his dark roots. He wore baggy olive-green cargo pants with a pink plaid patchwork long-sleeve button-up shirt, unbuttoned a couple times from the top, and his neck was adorned with a chunky metallic chain.

“Hey,” he said with a shy smirk.

“Hey,” you answered, feeling frozen in place. He cleared his throat. “Can I, um… come in?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, stepping aside to allow him inside.

He gave a little wave to Keeho and Jiung, who were sitting on the couch; Jiung smiled back but Keeho completely ignored him. Real subtle, Keeho, you thought, gritting your teeth.

“We’ll be in my room, c’mon,” you said, leading him down the hallway and shutting the door behind the both of you. “You can have the desk,” you said as he looked around curiously.

“Oh, okay; thanks,” he said, awkwardly sitting in your desk chair and setting his backpack down to pull out his laptop. You sat on your bed staring at him, feeling like he was some sort of apparition, come to haunt you.

He glanced up and saw you staring, and made an odd expression that you couldn’t quite read, then set his laptop on your desk. He shifted to face you, then crossed his legs and hugged his arms into his body defensively, almost in a protective manner. But when he made eye contact with you, his eyes were soft, sad-looking.

“It’s good to see you,” you said, voice wobbling already, your heart pounding. He nodded. “Yeah. You too. I know I’m here to go over this assignment with you, but–”

“Why didn’t you return my text?” you asked, cutting him off, forgetting about the assignment entirely, forgetting any and all manners or sense of shame. Now that he was here in front of you, talking to you for the first time in weeks, you needed to know.

“Why did you fuck Taeyang?” he spat out, face reddening. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling like the air had been squeezed out of your lungs. This was far from the response that you had expected, and your mind was a complete mess.

“How did you know we–”

“It’s not like you guys were trying to be quiet,” Jongseob said more quietly, entirely sulking at this point, jaw tense, and avoiding your eyes.

You narrowed your eyes, indignance beginning to spread through you. “Okay,” you said, trying to keep calm. “Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t!” he huffed, and you couldn’t keep yourself from scoffing in response. “That’s clearly not true,” you replied, trying not to grit your teeth. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem ,” he began, “is you sleeping with my best friend . It’s super fuckin’ weird.”

You felt like you’d been punched right in the gut. “Oh, give me a break, Seob, since when are you such a prude?” you said, beginning to raise your voice.

“Oh my god, I’m not! ” he retorted, offering no further explanation, clearly becoming frazzled as he looked to the side angrily.

“Also, why the hell didn’t you try to just talk to me about this?” you asked, trying to lower your voice; you hated the way your frustration had gotten the better of you, moments prior.

Jongseob just shrugged, continuing to look away from you stubbornly. You patted the bed in front of you, and he looked over at you, eyes full of hurt. You did it again, and he rolled his eyes, jaw set, and crawled onto the bed to sit right in front of you, legs crossed, propping his chin in one hand and continuing to avoid eye contact.

“I thought you were my friend,” you said softly, “So why are you acting like a jealous boyfriend?”

His eyes flashed over to you. “Maybe I–” he began, then stopped, biting his lip, clearly holding back whatever it was he was about to say.

“What?” you asked, still frustrated, but curious.

“Nothing. It just hurt, I guess, is all. When you guys hooked up. I don’t have a good reason why. It’s just… it wasn’t cool.”

Your brows furrowed together against your will and you continued narrowing your eyes at him. “Again, I don’t see why you care so damn much. What about Nina? That girl you kissed on New Year’s? And who you’ve been hanging out with ever since, and ‘not dating’?” you said with air quotes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jongseob trained his eyes on you, and you could tell you’d struck a chord. His chin trembled, and he took a breath.

“Oh, you mean the girl I've been keeping around to distract myself from you? Because of how fucking heartbroken I was that you’d slept with Taeyang? Because I thought that meant that you didn’t care about me the way I cared about you, and because I felt like such a goddamn idiot for falling so hard for you?”

You blinked once, eyes brimming with tears, unable to find words to respond.

And just like that, the rest of the world fell away completely as Jongseob leaned in swiftly to capture your lips with his.

Chapter 12

Your hands found themselves pressed into the bed slightly behind you, propping yourself up as Jongseob kissed you passionately, deeply, like he needed to do it to survive, like he had been drowning and was coming up for air after so, so long.

And for the first time, you realized that he’d been holding back when he’d kissed you before, because this was different. New. Somehow, more than ever before. More needy, his tongue pushing into your mouth more hungrily, more, more, more .

As you leaned back towards the head of your bed, he continued nipping at your lips, licking sloppily against your tongue, making little whimper noises as he struggled to get closer to you.

Your head was hopelessly gone, the class project long forgotten, as you let him gradually push you onto your back. His words echoed in your head as he hovered over you, propped up on his elbows.

…because I felt like such a goddamn idiot for falling so hard for you.

Emotion welled up inside your body and you kissed him back fervently, hands resting on either side of his face to hold him close to you. You’d all but forgotten your previously held anger, which was quickly being replaced with pure bliss as he slipped a hand under your shirt and pressed his thumb into your hip, grounding himself – but, in the process, completely ungrounding you.

Your hands released his face to start unbuttoning his oversized shirt, and it didn’t seem like he noticed until his shirt was completely open, your hands holding onto his bare waist and sliding around to the skin of his back. As you continued kissing him, his breathing becoming heavier, your hands wandered to his chest, brushing over his hard nipples, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as you reached up to slide his shirt off of his shoulders. He opened his eyes and pulled away from you slightly, pupils blown-out, lips wet from your tongue, and leaned back slightly to slip his shirt off, his small, sharp shoulders making him look suddenly much more vulnerable.

Doubt pulled at his features, and he hesitated, hands sliding up your thighs, his fingertips scratching against the rough denim of your jeans, getting dangerously close to the sensitive junction where your legs met your hips. It seemed like he was trying to reassure you, but it was managing to do nothing more than drive you insane. “Are you sure about this?” he asked sincerely.

“Please,” you immediately replied. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve wanted this so much. Please, Jongseob,” you said, the words spilling out of you despite your shame at sounding so desperate for him. You couldn’t be bothered to care about your ego right now – not when he was in your bed, his hands on you, finally within your reach. You figured if there was any time to be honest with yourself, and with him… it was right now.

Your eyes became wet with unshed tears as you confessed this to him, and he smiled affectionately at you, his eyes shining with a vulnerability and earnestness that you hadn’t seen from him before. He got off of you and scooted up to lay on his side facing you as he pulled your body towards him and caressed your cheek gently, looking at you intensely.

“I know, I know,” he said, his low voice almost a whisper. “Me too. I’m sorry. I’m here now. I’m here,” he insisted, mouth downturned into a subtle pout as he looked at your watering eyes, right before he slipped his hand to the back of your neck, and leaned in, lips nearly touching but not quite, brushing his nose against yours. You slid your hand up the soft skin of his exposed back as he shivered, breath coming out shaky against your face. He guided your face towards him into a gentle kiss, much less urgent now, taking his time.

You felt frozen in time as his lips pecked you gently; your top lip, then your bottom lip, then his lips were slotting against yours and lazily sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. His tongue was warm and inviting, and it made your whole body throb with desire.

He moved his hand from the back of your neck down to the hem of your shirt and slid his hand under it; his hand was surprisingly shaky as his fingers moved against your stomach, upwards until he was pressing against the soft, lightly padded fabric of your bra. You could feel your nipples harden, and broke away from the kiss briefly to sit up and let him pull your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor next to the bed. You laid back down and he leaned over you once again, making no effort to mask the growing hardness in his pants that was pressing against you.

He began to kiss you again, but with more momentum this time, and you sighed through your nose, nearly moaning when he slid his knee between your legs, pressing it against you. At this point, you could feel your pulse throb in your cunt, and the layers of fabric between you and him had become unbearable. Your mouth still against his, trying everything in your power not to completely let loose and grind against him, you reached your hands down to undo his pants before helping him slip them off, and he promptly pulled yours off as well.

You’d never seen Jongseob naked before, and he wasn’t technically naked yet , but you were awestruck by how beautiful he was. His body was willowy and tan, with a boyish masculinity mixed with feminine delicateness that took your breath away. He wore thin gray boxer briefs, his bulge threatening to break free from it, staining them dark in one spot with precum. You couldn’t help placing your hands on his tiny waist as he leaned forward once more to kiss you, relishing in the feeling of his bare skin against your stomach, his thigh sliding once again between your legs, harder this time.

And truly, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

You began to rut against his thigh shamelessly, sliding your hands once again to his back for leverage. You moaned into his mouth, then into the empty air of your room as he broke away to kiss at the junction of your jaw and neck, then down to your collarbones.

“Sit up,” he demanded, voice sounding breathless, and you immediately did what you were told, sitting up as he unhooked your bra. You began to kiss marks into his neck as he reached around to unhook it and he sighed into the sensation of your mouth against his sensitive skin. Pulling your bra off of you and letting it slide to the floor, he pushed you onto your back again and bent down to suck one of your hard nipples into his mouth, simultaneously squeezing the other one between his fingers. You cried out from the sensation, and if you’d let yourself, you might have been able to come just from that, combined with the pressure of his thigh still between your legs.

After licking and sucking relentlessly, eliciting a continuously louder string of moans from you, he let your nipple go with his hand and reached down to touch you over your underwear. Nearly against your will, you bucked up into his hand and he smiled up at you, licking at your nipple lewdly, almost teasingly, before you squeezed your eyes shut and started to push his head southwards.

He laughed – a bright, infectious sound that you had deeply missed – as he slid down your body, peppering gentle kisses on your stomach, his bulge brushing up against you as he moved, still captive inside his underwear, before he settled down with his face between your thighs and began pressing kisses over your underwear. Your underwear were basic, and along with your bra, nowhere near what you would have worn if you’d known this was going to happen, but somehow, it seemed better this way. More intimate. Honest.

You were nearly overwhelmed, legs trembling as he tortured you with slowness, but his kisses started becoming firmer, more targeted. You threw an arm over your face and started gasping at the pressure, spreading your legs a little more with each passing moment, until he finally hooked his fingers inside the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

He looked up at you while he lowered his mouth, eyebrows raised, gauging your reaction, before licking you slowly, firmly, with intention, immediately furrowing his brows and closing his eyes. You couldn’t help the sounds that had already begun to escape your throat—everything he was doing felt so good. You threw your head back against your pillow and closed your eyes, reaching down with one hand to stroke his bleach-damaged hair.

After a few minutes, he came up and kissed your thigh gently; you looked down and continued running your fingers through his hair. He leaned into your touch as he said, “I’ve been dying to know what you taste like, ever since I first saw you. Fuck , you’re so good.”

You smiled dumbly in response, feeling totally dazed, on top of the world. To your relief, he returned to your cunt and got back to work, exploring you, teasing around your clit torturously until you were begging for him. You felt so embarrassed, unable to keep yourself from whining at him, until he finally gave in and stopped teasing, licking against your clit firmly, his tongue speeding up to the point that you started seeing stars.

As you continued falling apart underneath him, he moved his tongue to your opening and pushed himself inside you, his soft, wide nose rubbing against your most sensitive area – and you nearly screamed at the sensation. He moaned into you, his voice vibrating pleasantly against you as he hooked his arms under your legs, spreading them further, his hands pressing firmly into your thighs.

You came against his mouth, his tongue buried inside of you, a flush of hot pleasure washing over your body as your thighs squeezed involuntarily around his head, your back arching and your mouth dropping open as you moaned his name.

He smiled self-indulgently as you laid there, body limp. You grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him on top of you to kiss you, his face wet with the flavor of your pussy. You pulled away for a moment, chest heaving. “Jongseob, I need you inside me. Now,” you begged. He kissed you once more, smiling against your mouth.

“Do you have any condoms?” he asked, grinding his hips gently against you, the front of his underwear now even more stained with precum, peppering sweet kisses all over your cheek. “I’m on birth control, and I’ve been tested recently. Have you?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking at you a little more seriously now. “You’re sure about this?” he asked.

“Positive. Pull out, just in case, though,” you said. You knew your birth control was reliable, but it still made you nervous – even though your body was screaming at you to let him come inside of you.

“Sure thing. Whatever you need,” he replied as he slid his underwear off, his wet cock bouncing free, making your mouth water. You weren’t sure if you wanted it in your cunt or your mouth more, but he didn’t give you time to consider your options much longer as he lined it up against you, rubbing it up and down. He gasped at the wetness, then after adjusting the extra bit of skin around the head, slid carefully into you.

You both gasped at the sensation. He bottomed out, the soft skin of his hips pressing against you. You realized you’d had your eyes squeezed shut and opened to find him looking at your face, eyes full of lust and … something more. He leaned down to kiss you as he began slowly sliding in and out of you. At the depth of each gentle thrust, he moaned in a low voice, and you wrapped your legs around his low back as he collapsed into you, his breathing becoming quicker.

He wasn’t very heavy, so you allowed him to relax on top of your body as he continued thrusting into you, burying his face into your shoulder as he whimpered with pleasure. It was odd – even though he was the one topping you, there was something so submissive about the way he moved and sounded, and you felt incredibly protective of him, kissing the side of his head while he thrust into you again and again.

“Jongseob,” you panted, his dick making you feel crazy, your sanity leaking out of you with each passing moment. “Yeah, babe?” he responded into the side of your neck. “Feel good?” he asked breathlessly.

“Fuck, so good,” you replied, but that wasn’t why you’d said his name. No, something much more dangerous was threatening to make its way out of you. It was overwhelming, begging to burst free.

“Jongseob, I…” you said, voice trailing off. “I’m–” you choked out as he hit a particularly sensitive spot deep within you. The desperation in your voice seemed to fuel him.

“Yeah?” he said, his strained voice rising at the end in a question, his hips rolling into you a little faster. “What is it, baby?” he said, and kissed your cheek, sweaty though it was, and then the side of your neck, and you moaned at the overwhelming sensations and the emotion welling up in your core. Your whole body felt like it was floating, tears stung your eyes, and you held him close to you, grabbing his face to lead it to yours so you could kiss him deeply, tongue licking against his with no precision, nothing but desperation, wanting nothing but him, all of him.

“Seob, I–” you whined, as he leaned up and looked into your eyes.

…I love you , you heard yourself say.

…and your stomach dropped in the brief moments between the words leaving your mouth, and when he opened his mouth to answer. But he just smiled and a high-pitched giggle escaped him before he pressed his lips to yours. He slowed down his thrusts and pulled away slightly, propping himself up on an elbow while he cradled your face with one hand and looked into your eyes as he said, “I love you too.” His voice was low, breathy, and sincere as he continued moving into you.

And just like that , something snapped inside of you.

You reached down and pulled him out of yourself; his eyes widened as you flipped him over with ease, sitting him up against your headboard as you swung a leg over and grabbed his cock to steady it against yourself before you sunk down on it, gasping lightly as you settled your weight onto him. He set his hands on your hips looked into your eyes, his mouth hanging open slightly, before his eyes flitted down to your chest and he leaned forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking feverishly as you began to fuck him.

Eventually his face ended up pressed into the middle of your chest, his arms wrapped around your back and holding you close as you rolled your hips downwards faster; his moans were becoming more whiny and he started trying to fuck up into you, which was difficult due to the angle.

“Y/n,” he whined, breathing heavily, the now-hot room filled with the filthy noises of your bodies crashing against each other, along with your staccato cries and his increasingly high-pitched, breathy moans.

You slowed down slightly, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders to focus on his face. His lids were heavy with lust, cheeks flushed and slightly sweaty, and his mouth hung open as he tried to control his breathing; it was clear that he was holding back.

“Sorry, I’m… I’m getting close,” he said, and you slowed to a stop, pulling yourself slowly off of him with a small gasp. He reached down to take himself in his hand and you couldn’t help watching for just a few moments, studying the way the extra skin moved up and down with his hand, peeking at his face to see the way his brows pushed together as he bit his bottom lip.

Not wanting him to have all the fun, you grabbed his hand gently and slowed it to a stop. He looked at you, confusion written all over his face, but his eyes widened as he watched you lower your face down to lick a strip up the underside of his cock. It was so warm, the skin soft and velvety, and you hummed as you took him into your mouth and began to bob your head up and down, occasionally looking up at him, pleased to see him nearly ruined from the pleasure of it all.

“Y/n,” Jongseob groaned, and you looked up at him again; his eyes were wild, as he asked, “can I come in your mouth?”

You pulled off with a soft pop for just long enough to say, “please,” and he sighed as you moved your head back down, returning to work and making sure to press your tongue firmly on the underside of the head each time you pulled away from him.

“Okay…” he panted, “don’t swallow, though,” he added, and you raised a confused eyebrow but gave him a look of understanding as you continued. Before long, he had his hand on your head, gently guiding you as his orgasm ripped through him, his hips stuttering gently as he tried not to choke you. You paused for a moment, keeping your lips sealed around his erection as you pulled off carefully and suddenly he was pulling you upwards toward his face. He cupped your cheeks with his delicate hands as he guided your mouth to his, kissing you and immediately breaking the seal of your mouth with his tongue, causing his cum to spill into his own mouth.

Your mind went blank at the sheer eroticism of the act, and as you swallowed the small amount of fluid left in your mouth, you felt a little bit drip down your chin as he pulled away, but he immediately leaned in to lick it off of you.

He smiled shyly, and you ran a hand through his hair and cupped his face before kissing him again, slowly, the taste of his cum still in both of your mouths.

“Jesus,” you said as you pulled apart, “that was so…”

“Weird?” Jongseob cut you off, face going beet-red. “I’m sorry, I really should have asked before–”

“ Hot. I was going to say hot. Don’t interrupt me, brat,” you teased, and he smiled again as you pinched his cheek, his adorable crooked canine teeth peeking out. You caressed one cheek as you kissed the other, then pulled him down onto the bed so he was laying down facing you. You intertwined your legs with his and wrapped an arm around him, but he still shivered lightly, so you pulled back your comforter and got underneath it with him.

He smiled warmly at you, running his fingers through your hair lazily. “You love me, huh?”

“Don’t push it,” you said, rolling your eyes as you dug your fingers gently into his ribs, eliciting a string of begging and laughter from him. He caught his breath once you took mercy on him by letting up, and once you both calmed down and were in each other’s arms again, his face sobered.

“I love you too. Sorry I’ve been so immature,” he said in a quiet voice, expression looking embarrassed.

“It’s okay. You’ll just have to spend some time making it up to me,” you said, smiling deviously as he scoffed gently, laughing. “And how exactly am I expected to do that?”

“Hmm,” you said, pretending to look up thoughtfully, a finger pressed to your lips. “Well, you did just show me some pretty valuable skills that you might be able to use to repay your debt.”

“Oh, is that so?” he replied, voice low and playful as he leaned over you. “Mhm,” you said, giggling as he kissed your lips, then moved downwards underneath the covers to begin his first official act of payback.

Chapter 13+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+

As the spring weather continued to warm the world around you, so did the springtime in your relationship with Jongseob give rise to the budding romance that had been frozen solid between the two of you, that terrible winter.

The fateful afternoon that Jongseob had left your place, after your mutual confession and lovemaking, you’d had the hilarious and unfortunate experience of having to apologize to Keeho and Jiung for the noise, but you’d do it again and again. You’d never been happier, despite having to explain to Keeho why you’d fallen for “such an asshole” and trying to talk him out of kicking Jongseob’s ass.

Your first order of business after dealing with Keeho and Jiung was to talk to Shota about what had happened. While Jongseob was busy making up with Taeyang – apologizing to him for being distant and upset, while divulging to him your newly begun relationship – you decided to let Shota know what was going on during one of your study sessions. You’d had it planned out beforehand anyway (the study session, that is), so it was the perfect time to fill him in.

Upon entering the doors of the boba place you’d agreed to meet at, the scent of freshly boiled brown sugar tapioca pearls hit your nostrils and you inhaled deeply, smiling when you spotted Shota sitting in the corner. The music in this place was always a little loud for your taste, but it was a good excuse to get some milk tea while you worked.

You plopped down in the chair opposite him, and he rested his chin on a fist as he looked across at you with adorable sleepy eyes.

Shota wasn’t taking any of the same classes as you this term but both of you still enjoyed meeting up together to do your homework. It was a good way to spend some time dedicated to getting it done, and even better, to have someone to share in the mutual suffering. You reached up to ruffle his hair and he closed his eyes and smiled, sighing.

“Yeah, me too buddy,” you replied to his nonverbal communication, reaching down into your backpack to pull out your laptop. Your heart was pounding but you weren’t sure why you were so nervous.

“How are your classes going so far?” you asked him. He squeezed his eyes shut and dramatically whimpered as if he were crying, squeezing his face in between his hands. “They’re going, I guess. I’m just so tired. Everything is getting so hard,” he confided to you.

“Yep, I feel that, for sure,” you responded honestly.

“What about yours, y/n? I probably shouldn’t even be complaining when your classes are probably a lot harder than mine,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Don’t say that! Difficulty level is all relative. And they’re honestly not too terrible this term but it’s been a wild ride for sure. Um…” you said, stalling, wondering where to start. “Jongseob is in one of my classes.”

Shota’s face fell subtly. “Oh, yeah? How’s he doing? Seems like he kind of dropped off the planet, didn’t he?” he said, his voice still gentle, but not bothering to mask his distaste. He clearly wasn’t saying what he wanted to say. You hadn’t exactly told him everything that had been going on, but he’d picked up on enough to know that the situation with Jongseob had been tense, to say the least.

“Yeah, he definitely did. He’s, uh, good. We’re… talking again,” you said, slowly, cautiously. Shota’s eyes widened at this information. You continued, “We ended up being assigned to a partnered project and it was definitely awkward at first but… we talked, and, I figured out what was going on, and…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Shota eyed the blush creeping across your cheeks, and clapped his hands over his own, smiling incredulously.

“Wow, y/n,” he said, fighting a bigger smile and looking away shyly.

“What?” you replied a little too loudly, leaning forward across the table and attracting a couple curious looks from other patrons. You said in a quieter voice, “I didn’t even say anything, what’s your deal?”

“It’s written all over your face, I can basically see the hearts in your eyes. You’re grossing me out,” he said, giggling with a hand over his mouth.

You felt your face go hot. You weren’t sure why you were so embarrassed to talk to Shota about this but you were finding it more difficult than expected.

He sipped his tea, lips in an adorable pout, fat pearls of dark boba coming up through the straw and into his mouth. He chewed, watching you thoughtfully.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, well, I mean. We certainly made up,” you said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“You mean, made out?” Shota replied, and your jaw dropped at how forward and teasing he was being. He didn’t usually try to embarrass you like this but he was clearly enjoying it. You reached out to grab a lock of his hair and yanked it menacingly, eliciting a small yelp from him as he continued laughing and trying to fight you off.

Once he escaped your grasp and fixed his hair, you mumbled, “Something like that,” and his face took on an expression of mock disgust. But after some more banter back and forth, he sobered considerably, and looking down at the table, said, “Look, I know our friendship isn’t very serious and I’m not very good at having normal mature conversations.” You immediately laughed and rolled your eyes. “Just say it, dude.”

He smirked and continued, “All I’m going to say is that I saw how sad you’ve been these past few months, and I haven’t wanted to pry, but I was able to put the pieces together. I don’t know any details, so I’m not going to judge.” Your face softened, and your heart swelled, Shota’s words hitting you deeply.

“The only thing I want to say, and I really mean this, is that I hope you’re happy, and that you know how great of a person you are. You deserve someone who’s good to you. Someone who is really, really nice to you,” he said, this last statement causing his gaze to sharpen as he finally looked into your eyes. Shota wasn’t usually good at eye contact, but when his gaze did meet yours, it was striking, his round, dark eyes full of emotion. Intense and honest.

You were taken aback by the sudden outpour of sincerity, and couldn’t help giggling nervously. “I’m serious!” he said, grabbing both your hands and forcing you to look at him. You nodded, unable to hide your smile. “Okay, fine. I hear you. But I promise, everything is all good now. I think there might have been a massive misunderstanding, but everyone is on the same page now.”

Shota’s face softened and he let go of your hands and opened his laptop. “Good,” he said softly, a small smile still on his face.

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As the term came to a close, you received an unexpected text from Taeyang about an end-of-the-school-year party. Even though you were taking summer classes in order to finish your degree as quickly as possible, there was no way in hell you were going to miss the chance to celebrate with everyone.

On the evening of the party, nobody wanted to be designated driver, so you had decided to book a rideshare service for you, Jongseob, Keeho, and Jiung. Like always, even though Keeho and Jiung weren’t fellow students, Taeyang had invited them because they were always welcome, fun to party with, and, as Taeyang had said multiple times to you privately (and which always elicited an eyeroll from you), nice to look at.

While Keeho and Jiung were getting ready in Keeho’s room, you were in front of your dresser, busy putting your jewelry on, when a pair of hands slid around to the front of your stomach, fingertips sliding just barely inside the front of your jeans teasingly. The warmth of Jongseob’s body pressed into your back and you relaxed into his touch as you struggled with the clasp on one of your earrings. He rubbed his thumbs back and forth across your lower stomach, and you considered the way that, when he was behind you like this, he felt much bigger than usual. When you faced him, he was so angelic and delicate-looking, but behind you like this, as he enveloped you, the soft swell of his chest pressing against your shoulders, you felt surprisingly safe and warm.

“You look so hot,” he murmured into your hair, kissing your head, and you finally turned towards him after getting your earring clasped.

You rested your hands on his shoulders and looked up at him while he rested his hands dangerously low on your hips. He hadn’t bothered to do much with his hair today, so it hung limply around his face, his eyes nearly hidden by his bangs. His nose hoop of choice today had a couple tiny silvery beads, resting against his nostril delicately, and he’d used a tinted lip balm that accentuated the shape of his lips: sharp, but sensual and full.

You tipped your head upwards to kiss him gently, just as Keeho peeked through your open door.

“Ew, ugh! Get a room,” he yelled dramatically, covering his eyes. He’d been heavy on the rude banter ever since you broke the news to him that you and Jongseob were dating. He still didn’t trust Jongseob, or fully forgive him for the heartache that he’d put you through (even though, technically, it was a misunderstanding, and you’d both been hurting). It didn’t matter to Keeho; from his point of view, Jongseob had been in the wrong and was on majorly thin ice.

“We’re literally in my room, dumbass,” you spat back at Keeho, while Jongseob giggled quietly.

But Keeho clearly didn’t care as he continued making loud gagging noises, and you groaned loudly. “What do you want, anyway?” you asked, exasperated.

“Oh,” he said, snapping back to attention. “Our ride’s here.”

“What the fuck, why didn’t you say that sooner?!” you scolded as you and Jongseob rushed to get your things together and head out the door.

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After the short drive, the rideshare driver dropped the four of you off at Taeyang’s familiar house and you all piled inside, the music already blaring. As you slipped off your shoes, Shota met you at the door and attacked you with an aggressive hug that nearly knocked you over. You laughed as he buried his face in your shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whined. “Taeyang’s being a tyrant!”

“Why, what’s he doing?” you asked before you realized that the music you’d been hearing from outside the front door was the sound of Taeyang’s guitar. As you all headed into the living room, you could see that Taeyang was playing an electric guitar plugged into an amp while he made everyone sing along to whatever he played. Of course , you thought, smiling. After he finished the song, he noticed you, Keeho, Jiung, and Jongseob, and came over to give you all hugs.

He wore a fitted low-cut white tank top underneath a denim jacket, with ripped black skinny jeans. Your eyes strayed to his exposed collarbones as he pulled away from the embrace and gave you a sly wink once your eyes met his again. You blushed and rolled your eyes while Jongseob went in for a hug next, grabbing Taeyang’s ass roughly with both hands and eliciting whistles and screams from Keeho, Jiung, and a few others.

“Get off me, pervert,” Taeyang yelled in his usual piercing voice as he tried fighting Jongseob off of him, but Jongseob kept his hands glued to Taeyang’s back. “But I missed you so much,” Jongseob whined, and Taeyang groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically and hugging him back, squeezing him so hard that he finally started choking and let go.

A small part of you knew that Jongseob had seen Taeyang wink at you, and with the three of you hanging out together for the first time since you and Jongseob were officially together, you wondered how much the dynamic would change. You looked at the two of them and the memory of them locking lips on the kitchen floor in front of you caused a wave of heat to flash through your body. Needing to distract yourself, you grabbed Shota’s hand to head to the kitchen for a drink.

Once you and Shota each taken a shot of hard liquor and had both secured a red cup of whatever horribly sweet alcoholic punch that Taeyang had made, you headed back out to the living room to find Taeyang turning on some actual music rather than punishing everyone with his guitar-playing, Keeho bullying Jongseob (as had been his usual habit ever since the two of you got together), and Jiung starting to inch away from the noise.

You grabbed Shota’s hand again and went outside to the back porch to share a cigarette. The sounds from inside got increasingly noisier as you breathed in the spring air, passing the lit cigarette to Shota. He took a long drag and handed it back to you, then leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and propped his chin in both hands before looking over at you and smiling.

“What?” you said, suddenly feeling self-conscious, and Shota giggled cutely as you sipped your drink.

“I dunno, I’m just happy. And you seem happy, too, y/n. And that makes me happy,” he said, his large eyes brimming with sincerity. Affection bubbled up in your chest and you smiled, ruffling his hair. He didn’t fight back, just sat there with that same dumb smile, looking content and at ease.

The next moment, Jongseob was bursting out of the house and slamming the sliding door shut, holding it closed while Keeho tried to open it from the other side. He panted with effort and whipped his head around as you and Shota looked at him, confused but intrigued at his plight.

“Guys, you gotta help me, Keeho’s trying to murder me for real, I think he’s gonna strangle me and I honestly don’t think he’s kidding,” he yelled, struggling to keep Keeho inside. Uh oh, you thought. Keeho hadn’t really laid into Jongseob like he’d wanted to, and all his frustration was clearly coming out now that he had a couple drinks in his system.

“You good-for-nothing, immature, low-down, stupid fucking twink! I’m gonna kill you!” you could hear Keeho screaming from the other side of the door while Jiung tried in vain to pull him away, arms wrapped around the bigger man’s waist. You could hear Taeyang’s shrill, piercing laughter from inside as he had probably been watching the antics unfold, and you couldn’t help starting to laugh as well, at the absurdity of it all. Somehow, you found yourself on both of their sides.

“Don’t just sit there, help me!” Jongseob whined, and Shota sighed with a smile as he got up to help Jongseob keep the door shut.

Keeho released a string of obscenities towards Shota that caused nothing but more laughter from both Taeyang and now the three of you that were outside as well, and finally Jiung was able to get him to give up and go cool off on the couch. You were relieved; you figured Keeho wouldn’t really hurt Jongseob, but as drunk as he was, you weren’t exactly sure what he was capable of, in this protective state.

Shota gave you a final fleeting glance and a quick, knowing smile before turning to head inside and shutting the sliding door behind him. Jongseob sat down on the steps beside you, chest still heaving, and leaned his head against your shoulder, still trying to catch his breath.

“What the hell started that?” you asked, taking a drag from your cigarette as you wrapped an arm around him. He curled up into your side, shivering slightly against the cool air.

“I don’t even know, it seems like he just wanted to pick a fight with me,” Jongseob responded, his voice pouty, and you burst out laughing.

“What?” he yelled, looking at you, his face taking on a hurt expression.

“Nothing, nothing, I believe you, it’s just ridiculous because it’s probably true. He was probably waiting for the right opportunity to pounce. Seems he still doesn’t forgive you. Sorry,” you said, giggling, but held him a little closer to you.

He looked up at you, eyes slightly tired but beautiful as always, mouth curled into a dumb smile, cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol. And it was like a magnet, like a moth to a flame, but you found yourself guiding his chin toward your face so you could kiss him gently. You loved kissing him all the time, but kissing with a slight buzz from a few drinks and a cigarette was like a tidal wave of pleasure – the warmth spreading through your body, the buzzy feeling in your head, the way he smiled against your lips, his wet tongue slipping into your mouth greedily…

“Hey guys!” Taeyang yelled as he stepped outside, and you tore yourself from Jongseob abruptly, laughing shyly as you pressed one last peck to his mouth. Jongseob rolled his eyes subtly and looked towards Taeyang. “Hey man,” he said with a dry smile.

“Wow, you look really happy to see me,” Taeyang teased, sitting on the other side of Jongseob and pulling him into an awkward hug.

“You’re so tiny,” Taeyang said. “Come here, I wanna hold you.”

And before Jongseob had the chance to protest, Taeyang was pulling Jongseob into his lap, one arm under his back with the other under his knees. Jongseob instinctively wrapped his arms around Taeyang’s neck, and you found yourself annoyed at the way the scene made you blush.

You looked away and sipped your drink, then took a drag of your cigarette, a comfortable silence beginning to sink in, before Taeyang spoke up again.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, voice nasally and bossy as ever. “Hm?” you answered nonchalantly, looking over to where Jongseob was now fully cuddled up against him, seemingly nodding off. Something in your chest squeezed pleasantly.

“I’m happy for you guys,” he said, meeting your eyes, probably the most genuine thing he’d ever said to you.

“Thanks, Taeyang,” you said, returning his smile.

Jongseob started to stir, and looked up at Taeyang with a smile. “My knight in shining armor,” he said, making kissing noises at him and giggling under his breath.

“Whoah dude, you’re gonna have to ask y/n’s permission,” Taeyang said, and Jongseob smiled slyly over at you, wiggling his eyebrows seductively. You rolled your eyes in response. “Oh my god, I don’t care,” you said, and Jongseob started laughing like a gremlin, planting kisses all over Taeyang’s cheek while he screamed in protest. You couldn’t help laughing at the scene.

“Wait,” Taeyang said, once Jongseob had stopped, but was still sitting in his lap. “If you get to kiss me, does that mean I get to kiss y/n?”

“No!” Jongseob protested immediately.

“What?” you said, laughing.

“I mean,” Jongseob said, scratching his chin thoughtfully and sliding out of Taeyang’s lap to stand in front of both of you, one hand resting on his hip. “Do you want to?”

“No,” you said, blushing furiously. “I mean, I dunno.”

Taeyang started laughing, breaking up the tension. “Maybe that’s a conversation for another time – a sober time. I’m just glad you guys finally made it official,” he said, raising his red cup to you and Jongseob. You looked at Jongseob, then at Taeyang with a smile, then bumped your plastic cup against theirs, celebrating the beginning of both a new season of weather, as well as a new season of life.

#jongseob #jongseob x reader #theo x reader #taeyang x reader #p1harmony fanfic #strawb writes

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