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shmaptainwrites · 3 months ago

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𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 [𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader [Modern!AU]

SUMMARY — Violet and Eloise spend time together by giving back to their community. Reader and Violet celebrate some unexpected news.

WORD COUNT — 5.3K

WARNINGS — drinking

NOTE — And chapter 8 is finally here! Just a small note, with school starting for me again, I'm going to change the posting days to Saturday so that I can get them out on time (hopefully!)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

��𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑽𝑰𝑰𝑰: 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬

“Mum!”

Violet almost winced at the loud voice, but no matter how old Eloise was, she could always count on her second daughter to yell for her from across the room.

It had been a while since she had seen her daughter in person, and she was happy they could catch up in a meaningful space.

“Eloise, oh, I missed you my darling,” she pulled her daughter in, both hands on her cheeks to kiss her forehead and the twenty four year old squirmed under her mother’s touch.

“Mum,” she whined.

“Oh stop it,” Violet shushed her. “Come and visit me more, and maybe I won’t be as dramatic.”

“Is that a promise?” Eloise asked.

“Not at all, I’m your mother,” she teased. “Alright, tell me where we’re working today.”

Eloise smiled, clapping her hands together before linking her arm with her mother’s and leading her in the proper direction.

“You and I are going to be talking to sixteen and seventeen year old girls about scholarships and educational opportunities,” she explained. “You talk about the money, I talk about the opportunities.”

“Seems straightforward enough,” she nodded. “This is different, you often have me doing homework help with the younger ones.”

“While that is true, I thought you might enjoy something a little more sophisticated,” she shrugged and Violet smiled.

“You missed me.”

Eloise looked particularly unfazed.

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Violet chuckled and kissed her daughter’s cheek before they entered the classroom together, where a group of girls were waiting for them.

“Eloise, you brought someone with you today,” one of them, who was sitting cross-legged on her desk, noted.

“Yes, guys this is my mum,” she introduced.

“Hi, Eloise’s mum,” they waved and Violet laughed.

“You can call me Violet,” she told them. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

They smiled while Eloise went to the front desk,pulled out some papers and pamphlets, and had one of the girls help her to hand them out.

“Are you really Eloise’s mum?” one of the girls asked. “You look so young.”

“Unsure if I should be offended by that,” Eloise nudged her, and she chuckled.

“No, Jill’s right, there’s no way,” another chimed in.

“I can assure you, I am actually her mother,” Violet nodded her head, coming to join Eloise at the front. “I have the birth video to prove it.”

“Ew,” Eloise scrunched her nose.

“We were one and done with those, yours was enough to explain the rest of them,” Violet chuckled and pinched her cheek.

“Okay, enough about my birth video, although I should have expected this kind of conversation after bringing my mum in,” she remarked. “Let’s talk about school.”

There was a bit of a groan among the crowd, and Violet looked over to Eloise to see how she would handle the lack of enthusiasm.

“Not the school you’re in now, I mean university, trade school, vocational school,” she listed.

They seemed a little more interested in that, but it still wasn’t the most popular topic of conversation.

In a perfect world, school should have been accessible to everyone, but the reality was that it often wasn’t, and for those that were told they couldn’t afford to go to any post-secondary education, they weren’t given the tools to properly apply for funding.

Eloise seemed to know this as the reality for the girls in her group, which was part of the reason why she had brought Violet in the first place. She knew her mother had plenty of experience navigating the world of tuition and scholarships through the work that she and Anthony did together, and it made sense to have someone with her expertise help guide these young women on that path.

Once Violet began to share a bit, they seemed a little more engaged. Probably just because it was a new voice, and they’d become a little too comfortable with Eloise, which she kept telling herself was a good thing, even if it meant she got teased relentlessly.

They walked through the step by step process to apply for schools and entrance scholarships along with how different institutions handled their bursaries before Eloise took over and started to explain the different routes and options people could take in their schooling.

“Violet, did you go to university?” a girl named Priya asked.

“I did actually,” she nodded. “But my story is a little complicated.”

“How so?” Tilly added.

Violet and Eloise leaned against the edge of the teacher’s desk while Violet gathered her thoughts to share.

“Well, my husband and I, we got married quite young,” she said. “I was actually just a little older than you are now.”

They looked astonished at that notion, but nevertheless she continued.

“And I thought at the time the thing that felt the most right and made the most sense for me was to stay at home especially after I became pregnant with Eloise’s older brother Anthony, but my husband encouraged me to study something, and we would find a way to make things work between us. So, naturally, I picked business because that’s what he was doing and I didn’t really know what I was interested in, but it was not a particularly easy decision. For some people, everything came so easily, but it took me a while to understand a lot of the concepts that were being taught, and I absolutely hated accounting. However, I quickly came to realize that just because things didn’t come as quickly to me, didn’t mean I couldn’t do them. I just had to work harder than others and so I did, I tried my best, both my husband and I did, and by the end of our schooling we had two young children, and I decided I wanted to stay at home with them.”

Eloise noticed how engaged the girls had become and made a mental note that perhaps having guests to come and speak about their experiences was a good way to tie in what they were learning about into real life situations.

“That decision was what I thought was best for me at the time and I don’t regret making it,” Violet continued. “It allowed me to be with my children during those crazy and important times in their lives and I enjoyed it. I know it’s not for everyone, but it was right for me.”

“So did you ever end up using your business degree?” another girl named Emily spoke.

“I did, but it wasn’t until much later,” she said. “After my husband passed away, I decided to go back to school and get a Master’s degree while also taking over all of the work that he had been doing before he died, and I’ve been using my degree ever since.”

“Do you enjoy what you do?” Jill asked.

Violet looked over at Eloise and nodded her head.

“Especially when it allows me to come and do things like this with my children. Eloise has always been passionate about education and making sure women everywhere have access to it, and I am more than willing to support and encourage that drive.”

Everyone seemed happy with Violet’s answers, including Eloise, and she expressed to her as much as they were leaving the school where the program happened after everything had wrapped up.

When they reached the car, Eloise leaned into the side of the vehicle, looking at her mother.

“Why don’t you ever let me drive?” she asked.

“Because you drive like you have a death wish,” Violet said while unlocking the door. “I love you, but you really shouldn’t have passed your driver’s test.”

Eloise rolled her eyes and got into the passenger’s seat.

“Then at least stop somewhere for coffee, I just finished my summer course exams, and I’m still recovering,” she sighed.

“Why don’t you wait until we get home, I can make you a cup of tea.”

“Mum, tea stopped working a long time ago, and you hate coffee, just please take me to a cafe,” she turned her head against her headrest, and Violet sighed.

“Fine.”

That was one thing they definitely wouldn’t see eye to eye on.

After her coffee was acquired, Eloise was in a much cheerier mood, and Violet asked her about some of the things she was learning about in her program, which Eloise gladly spoke about until they reached home.

When they entered the house, there were sounds coming from the TV room, and Violet assumed Hyacinth or Gregory were watching something to pass the time.

“Why don’t you go see what your siblings are up to, I’m going to hop in the shower then we can visit more, hmm?”

Eloise nodded, and they quickly exchanged kisses on the cheek before parting ways.

Violet was more than happy to get underneath the warm water in the shower, feeling the need to be clean and refreshed after a long few days, only having the sound of the water hitting the floor of the shower filling the room.

That wasn’t to say she couldn’t hear the faint chatter coming from downstairs, or Gregory in his room playing video games with his friends, but she elected to ignore them and focus on how the tension in her muscles disappeared under the water.

When she stepped out of the shower, she grabbed a towel that was hanging on a nearby hook to wrap around herself, and before she could figure out what clothes she was going to wear, a sweet scent filled her nostrils, and her attention was diverted.

The sweet smell, which she could have sworn were brownies, reminded her of her empty stomach and feeling the hunger overpower her need to be in dry clothes, she walked out of the washroom, hair still dripping, and made her way downstairs in her towel to see if the brownies were ready to eat.

When she came into the kitchen, she noticed the baked goods on a tray, partially served, and she knew it wouldn’t hurt if she stole a piece.

She cut out a square and picked it up from the pan, a small hum escaping her lips as she realized it was still warm before turning around to go back upstairs and seeing you standing with your eyes wide open at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Christ! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, a hand going to her chest to calm her racing heart.

You were having a hard time finding words to respond to her. Your eyes were transfixed on the water glistening against her freckled, sun-kissed skin, how the droplets seemed to connect dots as they rolled from her thighs down her legs.

Her hair was dripping wet and slightly pushed back at the scalp before falling around her shoulders in waves, her lashes full, dark, and wet against steel blue eyes.

And the towel, oh, the towel was almost cruel. How it covered just enough to keep your mind going and veering off in places it really shouldn’t have been, especially when the woman in front of you was your boss.

But still, it didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers across her shoulder, down her arm, hooking your fingers around the fabric of the towel and pulling it down and leaving her completely bare and dripping in front of you.

You heard her say your name once more, and you realized your mouth was slightly agape, so you closed it and cleared your throat.

“I-um-Hyacinth-she-” you were a bumbling mess and no matter how hard you tried to avert your gaze, your eyes stayed completely and totally on her.

“Damn, Mum,” Eloise came waltzing into the kitchen behind you. “Couldn’t even wait until you were dressed?” she teased, and it seemed that was when it clued in for Violet that she was, in fact, quite exposed.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen her face go that red and she quickly swatted Eloise’s hand away as she playfully tugged at the damp towel, clearly only trying to get a rise out of her mother.

“I-I’m going to go get changed,” she shook her head and ran out of the kitchen, brushing past you before making her way up the stairs, an extra hand tugging the back bottom portion of the towel down so she didn’t expose herself further on the way up.

Around ten minutes later, Violet came back downstairs and made her way into the kitchen again to procure the brownie she never got to eat before heading to the TV room where you, Eloise, Hyacinth, and now Gregory were all sitting on the couch, scrolling through options of something to watch.

“Mum, hi!” Hyacinth grinned.

“Dearest,” she smiled and took the only empty seat which was next to you on the couch. “I’m guessing Hyacinth called you?”

You were having a hard time looking her in the eye and instead settled on nodding your head.

“Her exact words were that she would rather jump off a cliff than spend time alone with Gregory, which I thought was a little dramatic, but it seemed the feeling was quite mutual.”

Violet looked over and noticed how you didn’t turn to her when you were talking like you usually did and then her mind drifted back to the kitchen, and she could feel her cheeks heat up once more at the mere thought.

“Well um, I suppose I should thank you for making sure that I remain a mother of eight instead of six,” she attempted to joke, but it came out much flatter than she had wanted.

“So, do you guys do this often?” Eloise asked. “I feel like all the fun stuff’s happened since I left.”

“Well, I am here quite often for work,” you told her. “And sometimes it just happens.”

“Like ice cream with Franny,” Hyacinth said.

“You don’t have to mention that every chance you get,” Gregory replied. “I get it, I should have come with you guys.”

“Now what fun would that be,” Hyacinth grinned and leaned back into the couch. “Why don’t we watch Blended?”

“Absolutely not,” Gregory took the remote. “I am not watching another Adam Sandler rom com.”

“Gregory, what do you want to watch?” you asked.

He sighed and thought for a moment while continuing to scroll through options.

“I don’t know, just not a rom com,” he said.

“Wait, I have a solution,” Eloise said, and everyone listened up. “Mum and Hyacinth like romance, I like books, you like Colin Firth,” she pointed to Gregory. “And I’m note sure how you would fit into all this, do any of those sound appealing?” Eloise asked you.

“All three actually,” you nodded. “Loved Colin in The King’s Speech.”

“There we have it, the BBC’s Pride and Prejudice,” Eloise grinned.

Surprisingly, everyone seemed content with the choice and Gregory went to find what service it was available on.

“Oh no need, Greg, I bought it ages ago, just go into the purchased TV shows,” Eloise explained to her little brother.

“You do realize this is a six hour commitment,” Hyacinth said, looking at the episodes.

“Oh, we can’t sit and just watch the telly for six hours,” Violet shook her head. “We’ll just have to get together again and finish it in chunks.”

“Party pooper,” Eloise grumbled, sipping her coffee, and Violet leaned over you to pinch her cheek.

“Come on Violet, it’s your day off, you sure you can’t spare it?” you finally looked over at her.

She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but the thought of sitting next to you for that length of time did seem appealing.

“And if we start it now it’ll still be a decent hour out,” you said.

She looked at you and her three kids who all had pleading looks on their faces, even Gregory, who wasn’t particularly fond of romantic movies and TV shows, seemed to be invested in finishing the story in one go.

“Gregory, you really want to do this?” she asked.

“I like Austen,” he nodded his head. “Lizzie and Mr. Darcy remind me of Kate and Anthony.”

Eloise almost spat out her coffee.

“Okay now I’m not sure I want to watch this anymore,” she joked, and Hyacinth nudged her.

“Shut up, El. Just play it,” she urged, and Violet sighed with a chuckle, clearly she was now definitely required to commit.

“I hope you know my hair is going to frizz because of this,” she looked over at the rest of you sitting on the couch, touching her still damp hair.

“Don’t worry, Mum. You’ll look like an 80s babe, it’ll be great,” Eloise assured her.

You chuckled a little at Eloise’s comment and imagined Violet with her wavy hair poofy and slightly untamed, much different than her usually straightened or perfectly loose curled hair.

It was a rather distracting thought and consumed your mind for a large portion of the beginning of the episode. It was good you were familiar with the storyline already.

You felt comfortable enough to curl a little further into the couch, taking some of the blanket Hyacinth had thrown across the couch. You offered some of the blanket to Violet, and given how little was left she was practically pressed against you to get under it.

It was remarkable how your body could feel as though it was burning even when you weren’t even remotely close to being hot. Simply Violet’s touch, her arm against yours, and you felt as though you were on fire.

By the time you had reached the end of the second episode, you finally gathered the courage to look over at Violet, seeing that her hair had, in fact, gained some volume and only a slight outline of the wet waves that used to frame her face remained.

“It’s bad isn’t it,” Violet said softly as the end credits came up.

“Hmm?”

“My hair, it’s a mess,” she tried to gather it into a ponytail to hide it, but your hand instinctively went up to move hers away.

“It’s fine, Violet,” you assured her.

She was unconvinced, but something in your eyes made her listen to you anyway, but not without a bit of protest first.

“Does it look nice, or is it just fine, because those are two different-”

“You look beautiful,” you interrupted her. The admission was so quiet the Bridgerton children sitting next to you didn’t catch it over the sound of the opening theme.

Violet had been expecting some half-hearted response about how it didn’t matter, and she was simply going to stay at home for the rest of the day and could fix it later, but instead, was met with striking sincerity.

She tried to play this off and smiled gingerly, tucking her hair behind her ears and focusing again on the TV screen.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, does anyone want popcorn? Or snacks?” Eloise asked, looking at both ends of the couch, redirecting your attention.

“I could go for some snacks,” you nodded. “Let me give you a hand.”

Both you and Eloise untangled yourselves from under the blanket and headed into the kitchen, leaving Violet with the two younger siblings.

“So you seem pretty chill,” Eloise noted while pulling out the popcorn kernels from the cupboard. “Why on earth do you hang out with my family?”

You chuckled a little while plating some of the brownies and shrugged your shoulders.

“Your mum would call it an occupational hazard,” you told her. “I don’t think she realizes I just enjoy spending time with you all.”

“God, I don’t know what could ever compel you to do that,” Eloise shook her head and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, Eloise, have you spent much time around your family recently?” you asked. “In my experience, they’re quite kind and welcoming.”

“I suppose so, but they’re also incredibly annoying,” Eloise remarked. “Have you met Colin yet? He’s the worst of the lot.”

“I have not met Colin, but something tells me you’re only saying that because he is engaged to your best friend,” you teased her. “Don’t worry, I would find him annoying if he was my brother.”

“At least we can agree on one thing,” Eloise sighed, heating up the pot and some oil on the stove. “But in all honesty, you’ve probably gathered enough from Mum that we don't really have a lot of close friends. A lot of people we see out of obligation or out of duty, but only a really small handful we spend time with just to enjoy ourselves. Her especially, the rest of us branched out a bit, but she was close to Dad and Agatha and, well, that was it.”

You listened to her intently while grabbing some more food to bring with you from the pantry.

“She likes you, I can tell,” Eloise smiled. “And it’s good for her to have more friends, I think, anyway. She needs to let loose, get that bloody stick from out of her behind,” she waved her arm about dramatically. “She won’t listen to us, but she might listen to you.”

You pressed your lips together and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind, Eloise.”

And lo and behold, her advice came in handy much sooner than you expected.

—

Violet didn’t think she would ever get used to when the house was completely silent, but she supposed she would have to soon enough with both Gregory and Hyacinth approaching that age where they would be looking to start their own lives. This was just a taste of what was to come.

She was walking past the foyer of the house when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She picked it up and saw your name flash across the screen. Violet frowned curiously and accepted the call, placing the phone against her ear.

“Hello?”

“Violet?” your voice seemed exuberant for the late hour. “Can you hear me alright?”

“I can hear you fine, what’s going on?” she asked.

“Check the news,” you replied simply.

“What?”

“I’m almost at your door, just hang up and check the news,” you said, and Violet was even more confused.

She listened to your instructions, hung up the phone and went to the news application, scrolling through a few of the top suggested headlines for her until her eyes fell on what you were referring to.

BREAKING: Landon Norris Retracts Statement About Lady Violet Bridgerton

A hand went to cover her mouth on instinct as she heard the door open behind her. She turned around and saw you standing there with a wide smile on your face, but she was still processing the information.

He had actually retracted his statement. This was the best case scenario.

“Oh my God,” she looked at you, astonished, as you came close to her, shutting the door behind you. “Oh my God.”

What came next was natural; Violet wrapped her arms around your neck, and you wrapped yours around her waist and you pulled each other into a tight embrace, disbelieving chuckles escaping both your lips.

This wasn’t to say that everything was over, but surely it made things easier.

“Did you come all the way here for this?” Violet asked with a laugh, pulling away from you for a moment.

“I was in the area,” you shrugged. “Violet, this is huge, we need to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” she looked at you skeptically. “It’s past ten, how do you plan on celebrating?”

“Champagne, obviously,” you pointed to the bag you’d left at the door, “Don’t worry, it’s chilled.”

Violet bit her bottom lip and shook her head. Hyacinth was staying with Daphne for the weekend and Gregory was at a friend’s place, perhaps it was alright for her to indulge, just this once.

“I’ll get the flutes,” she nodded, and you grinned and clapped your hands together, getting the bottles and moving to join her in the kitchen where you started.

You knew Violet was partial to a glass of wine here and there, which is why you figured a bottle of champagne between the two of you wouldn’t amount to much.

Violet drank the first glass so fast she began to hiccup before her second, which turned into a third as you migrated towards their more informal living room.

“Oh, bollocks,” she looked at the bottle, seeing it was empty, trying to pour the last few drops into her glass.

“You want more?” you looked at her, noting her rosy cheeks in the dim light. Barely any time had passed since you’d opened the bottle and you were quite surprised to see you’d finished it between the two of you. You hadn’t quite had enough to be more than tipsy, but you thought maybe Violet’s tolerance was not necessarily as high as you had anticipated.

“It’s too quiet,” she shook her head, ignoring your question, disappointed with the atmosphere of the space. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“How do you want to celebrate?” you repeated her question from earlier, putting your glass down on the coffee table.

She stole it from you and walked over to the stereo, sipping at whatever champagne you’d leftover, fiddling with the buttons until the loud sound of the radio echoed through the room. You both winced before she turned it a little lower, changing the channel until it landed on a throwback station.

“Fuck, I love this song!” she grinned.

“Oh my God, Violet,” your eyes grew wide as you chuckled, never having heard the very polite and refined woman swear, even in the intense circumstances you’d encountered together over the past few months.

“I’m British, I think it’s a felony if I don’t like this song,” she informed you.

She downed the rest of what was in your glass and came up towards you, poking you roughly in the shoulder.

“You’re not celebrating right.”

“Oh really?” you chuckled.

“Yes, really,” she insisted, frowning at the fact that you weren’t agreeing with her. “We should be doing something.”

Violet came even closer to you, first placing her hands on your shoulders before resting her arms across them, your bodies mere inches apart.

“Don’t you think so?”

“I think you’re drunk,” you said, and she shook her head.

“No, no, no, I’m perfectly fine,” she attempted to assure you, but remained unconvincing as a hiccup escaped past her lips.

“Violet, you’re drunk,” and the reality of the situation dawned on you. “God, I got my boss drunk,” you whispered to yourself.

Feeling a need to rectify the situation, you told her you’d be a moment and stepped closer to the exit of the room and pulled out your phone, looking through your contacts for a number and calling it.

You listened as the phone rang, not paying attention as Violet quietly left the room when the line connected.

“Mate, it’s almost midnight,” Benedict’s voice rang through the speaker.

“Who are you, a grandma?” you asked him with a scoff.

“Are you drunk?” he said, hearing the slight slur of your words. “And you could have said grandpa.”

“No, grandma,” you insisted while Violet came back into the room, again, not that you were paying any attention. “And I’m not drunk, I’m just a little tipsy.”

“And you called because…” he urged you to continue.

“See, I called you because your mum is drunk,” you sucked in some air through your teeth.

“You got Mum drunk?” he laughed, clearly amused at the notion. “Very bold move.”

“Oh shut up, we were celebrating,” you rolled your eyes. “Now, how do I make it stop?”

“What is she doing right now?” Benedict asked, and you finally turned back into the room, noticing Violet had procured a bottle of wine and was now pouring some into the champagne flute and drinking as she danced quietly to the music, simple movements of her feet, hips swaying along.

“Uhh, she got into some more wine and is dancing…I think?”

“Yeah, good luck,” he smacked his lips together, and your eyes went wide.

“What do you mean, good luck?” you asked. “Benedict, I got my boss drunk! I got your mum drunk!”

“Christ, relax,” he laughed. “At this point, there’s no going back, just…enjoy yourself.”

“So, your solution is for me to get drunk?” you confirmed.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he nodded. “I left a vodka soda in the back of the fridge, help yourself. Now, I am going to bed.”

Before you could protest, Benedict hung up, and you pressed your lips together before shoving your phone in your pocket, attempting to decide what you would do.

Before long, you said screw it and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge until you found the vodka soda Benedict told you about, cracking it open and doing your best to chug its contents.

When you returned to the living room, the music still blaring, you walked up to Violet and stole the champagne flute out of her hand and began drinking the wine from it.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, but began giggling when she saw you downing the wine.

“Payback,” you poked her shoulder and she took your hands, pulling you closer.

“You ready to celebrate?” she asked.

“If, by celebrate, you mean dance, then yes, I am most definitely ready,” you nodded your head, the alcohol slowly making its way into your system, lowering your inhibitions as it had already done for Violet. Clearly, it was less bad if both you and your boss were drunk than if only she was, that made logical sense, right?

You were a little shocked when her hands went to your hips, pulling you flush against her. Your faces were so close you could feel her breath on you, the scent of wine and champagne mingling and emanating from you both.

Your hips travelled together in smooth, rhythmic movements, and your eyes closed, focused on the warmth you felt from having her against you, or perhaps it came from your own body, slowly crawling and travelling to every extremity.

You let your arms wrap around her neck lazily, one hand even daring to tangle itself in Violet’s hair.

It was so easy to lose yourself in the music, or it was, until you could feel Violet’s breath against your ear.

“You look pretty when you dance,” she murmured and you could feel her nose press against your temple and then, suddenly, that was all you could think about.

The song eventually faded out into the background, and Violet pulled away slightly. Her face was red and whether it was from the alcohol, the dancing, or the close proximity, you couldn’t tell.

She seemed a little embarrassed, quickly using your shoulder to hide her face, her grip on your hips still strong.

“You alright, Vi?” you chuckled.

“No, I never dance.”

The hum and vibration of her voice against your neck was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Really?” Your voice came out a little more strangled than you had anticipated. “I have a hard time believing that.”

A very hard time, with the way she moved against you, there was no way.

“Believe it,” she insisted.

“Well, if it’s only for lack of a dance partner…” your voice trailed off, and Violet looked back up at you, the beginning of a giggle escaping her lips.

“You would dance with me again?” she asked.

“Only if you paid,” you teased. “For tax purposes, of course.”

She laughed at your joke, unable to control herself even though it wasn't that funny, using you for support to stay upright.

“God, Violet you’re so pissed,” you laughed while holding her up.

“Am…not,” she tried to insist, but her overwhelming joyfulness said otherwise.

“Is this how you wanted to celebrate?” you asked her, trying to get her to look up at you, but it took her a moment, her balance compromised and using you as a human pillar, her arms now comfortably wrapped around your waist.

“Definitely,” she nodded. “What were we celebrating, again?”

Now it was your turn to laugh, the sound bubbling up from your throat and causing your chest to rumble while warm tears streamed from your eyes without much control.

“Oh Violet,” you sighed after finally calming yourself down. “Never change.”

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@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya @philocalistwrites @mako-mermaids2021 @oh-mydarling @courtneyteal @amethyst-bitch @etherynn @lilisdarling @fictionalized-lesbian

#to love the stars #violet bridgerton #violet bridgerton x reader #violet bridgerton fanfiction #violet bridgerton fanfic #violet bridgerton fic #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fic #ruth gemmell #modern au #bridgerton modern au

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pixaho · 9 months ago

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Rude Boys With Girlfriends

♥ Pairing | Rude Boys x Girlfriends ♥ AU? No |

♥ enjoy! Also I have a discord server now for fellow H&L writers who want to promote, share ideas, collaborate, or just have fun in general. It will be at some point put out. I've also not been posting recently due to writing a bunch of other stuff so I do hope you all enjoy this!

M.LIST H&L LIST

SM☺KY

♦ FIRST MEET

You met Smoky when you and him were kids, obviously he couldn't adopt you as a younger/older sister since you were the younger/older sister of P. But you knew each other since you were kids and you had frequently taken care of Lala and Eri as you all got older.

♦ DATES

Your dates with Smoky consist of going to the Nameless Road's orphanage and spending the day with the kids there. Smoky says that he thinks of Nameless Road as a family and is willing to take care of them, so why not spend your dates there? Of course he scrounges up lunch for everybody but especially for you two.

♦ FIRST TIME

He was kind of scared that he could get you sick with what he had so he tried not to do it with you, until he couldn't. You guys had been frustrated over a minor thing that he was trying to fix and you both took your frustrations out on each other, sexually. He was soft when trying to do it because he never wants to hurt you.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments are rare. He always shuts the arguments down by being thoughtful and thinking about it.

♦ JEALOUS

Nope. He doesn't really have a reason to be jealous because he believes that if if you don't have a good relationship with him, then you should find someone else.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

TAKESHI

♦ FIRST MEET

You were running from Doubt members as a kid when Takeshi grabbed you (he was also a kid) and shushed you. He knew why you were running and decided to take you with him. That is when he introduced you to everyone.

♦ DATES

Unlike Smoky, his idea of a date in nameless road is to take you to the highest point there and stargaze. Commonly refers to you as a star because he thinks you shine like them. He's a romantic, what can I say?

♦ FIRST TIME

You guys actually had your first time while you were stargazing. One thing led to another and you were ontop of Takeshi under the stars. You guys were slightly drunk. Lala may have accidentally saw y'all but she silently cheered you on.

♦ ARGUING

They only really happen when he doesn't tell you whats going on. He tries to bypass it by telling you everything is okay and asking you how your day is but it ends in arguments because he'll lie. He goes to Smoky when he doesn't know what to do.

♦ JEALOUS

He does get jealous, he doesn't like to admit it though. He will only show it by being all lovey dovey when your attention isn't on him.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

♦ FIRST MEET

You were apart of Sannoh Rengokai when Cobra came by, a few guests with him. You knew a few of them except for one, P. You were intrigued by him so when Cobra offered to introduce you to him, you took the chance!

♦ DATES

P is awkward with dates, he doesn't entirely know what to do considering he grew up on Nameless Road. He leaves them to you or he asks the others, this leads to a fire being started (trashcan / barrel) and the roasting of some good food.

♦ FIRST TIME

Your first time with him was while the rest of Rude Boys and Nameless Road were asleep. He took you to a secluded tent far away from everyone else and romance happened (and a wee bit of magic too).

♦ ARGUING

He isn't around that much and when he is, arguments are rare. He usually spends his time cuddling and/or snuggling with you until the others need him. He loves you too much.

♦ JEALOUS

Jealousy jealousy jealousy. Yes. Short answer is YES. He literally hates every good looking person secretly because he wants to look better than them to keep you.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

(We barely know him but he's cute)

♦ FIRST MEET

You happened to meet Yu when you were helping others get medical help as a kid. Smoky had come by, being pushed by Lala to see you, and brought someone new. You were introduced to Yu and helped your family member to clean him up.

♦ DATES

His confidence leads him to setting up dates in and outside of the Nameless Road. These dates are typically in parks with food and near the coast.

♦ FIRST TIME

You guys had your first time when Yu got back after a fight. He had been really injured and you were helping him clean up. Well, one thing lead to another and you guys did it. YIPPIEEEE

♦ ARGUING

Arguments aren't rare and they actually happen a lot. Yu hates arguments as they often remind him of before he met you so he always tries to find the salutions. But these are typically about his confidence getting in the way and how he doesn't realize it.

♦ JEALOUS

Lets his confidence cover the jealousy but will show it by drawing and/or writing on your skin using his fingers.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

♥ Mutuals | @talusional @dillpick

#elixirol0gy #high and low fanfic #high and low #highandlowfanfic #frothing at the mouth #highandlowsmut #fluff #high and low smoky #high and low Rude boys #Rude boys #Highandlowsmoky #smoky x reader #rude boys x reader

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mx-mizaqx · 4 months ago

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➡️@ogzieoggleton ⬅️ CREATOR OF AU😋😋

go and give em all the praise for this fire idea 🫸🔵🔴🫷🤌🫴💜 (w artist too😎😎)

wowowowo garmadon green ninja au yipee!! (NOT MINE AT ALL‼️‼️)

also cacao’s here, because why not🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ and because their my fav characters and they gotta be buddies ‼️‼️

And also no beta read and im kinda a newbie, so expect a lot of mistakes and maybe plot holes. And extremely out of character

(Anyways please enjoy)

Garmadon walked through the harsh snow and wind, he’s lucky cacao was able to give him special garments so he wouldn’t freeze to death. As he finally got to the gates of the citadel, guards stopped him in his tracks.

“Who goes there?!” One shouted out, pointing their spear at him,

“Woah!” Garmadon flinched, he really didn’t feel like fighting someone today.

“Relax. There’s no need to cause a fuss.”

A voice appeared, and much to Garmadon’s relief it was Dark Cacao!”

“I don’t know what brought you here at a time like this, we’re facing a massive blizzard.” Cacao tugged on Garmadon’s cape, forcing him inside the citadel.

“Order everyone to stay inside until the storm clears.” The king commanded

“Sir yes sir!” The guards say, quickly going on ahead to fulfill the King’s request.

Cacao sighed, rubbing circles on his forehead.

“Your .. not surprised by my four arms?” Garmadon said, looking around. Seems like Dark Cacao had changed a few things.

Cacao grumbled looking at him.

“Not really, ever since you went to that realm to get the-“

Garmadon quickly shushed him with his hand. Much to Cacao’s annoyance.

“Shh! You wouldn’t want your people to know! How would they even react?!”

Cacao took Garmadon’s hand and brought it down. Looking bitter as always.

“Cacaoians are not known to start such petty gossip, if they were after anything it would be my souljam.”

“Yeah right whatever. Can we at least go somewhere that isn’t your front door?”

Cacao sat silently for a few minutes, in contrast to Garmadon’s frantic pace.

“The throne room.” Cacao said, as he walked.

Garmadon looked absolutely fed up with Cacao. But he quickly catches up to him.

“The throne room?! Really?! You can’t think of anything else are you kidding me?! Cacao you’re really starting to push my buttons.”

They finally made it to the throne room, large doors swing open, And quickly close.

“Look I don’t have time for your foolish whining, cut to the chase.” Cacao said with a bitter tone.

Garmadon sighed. “Those golden weapons. You know they reveal who the green ninja is right?”

“Yes I know, you’ve told me many times.”

Garmadon pulled them out from who knows where. Much to Cacao’s faint surprise, they glowed in green and golden.

And it finally hit Cacao, Garmadon was the green ninja.

Cacao’s eyes widen, but quickly went back to normal. Sure it was shocking but.. He’s seen something similar happen with one of his dear friends.

Garmadon couldn’t believe it, it was like his friend was completely unfazed!

“Do you not understand?! My whole life is a lie!”

Garmadon started to tear up, small fire bubbles around his eyes.

“I thought I would be the villain, that I would cause destruction and despair wherever I go. And now because of some stupid destiny I have to be the hero.”

Garmadon’s eyes were filled with fiery tears, they burned small holes in the floor of the throne room.

“I-I don’t even know who I am anymore! Am I the vengeful man many people once knew..?H-How are people even supposed to react to this they can’t trust me..!”

Garmadon fell to his knees and continued to sob, hiccups and sniffles filling the quiet halls. And that haunting green aura surrounds him.

Now. Cacao wasn’t good with emotions, he usually kept quiet and to himself, he didn’t really know what to do.

He sat with Garmadon, he knew he needed to let all this bottled emotions out. He sat there and patiently waited, It didn’t take long for Garmadon’s sobs to quiet down. He sniffed, rubbed his eyes. And sat there quietly with his friend, snot and tears still streaming down.

Cacao felt a little disgusted, but now was not the time. The silence was awkward and a little weird, especially since Cacao didn’t know what to do.

“do you, want a hug?” Cacao asked raising his arms, which kinda just made more things uncomfortable.

Garmadon, who buried his face in his hands. Looked up at him, in confusion. Garmadon knew Cacao wasn’t really the type of person or cookie rather, to ask such.

But alas he needed it more than anything right now, so he took off his helmet, so nobody would be too uncomfortable and hugged Cacao. For someone who lives in such a cold region he was quite warm.

Cacao was relived he got him to relax, patting his head. It was a nice feeling, staying inside in during a blizzard. Just chilling with your friend, really made Cacao appreciate everything around him.

It finally dawned on him that those weapons were still glowing green, a bright green. Which pretty much hurt to look at, since he’s so used to such toned down colors.

He let go of Garmadon, getting up to retrieve the weapons.

“What are you-“ Garmadon’s eyes looked in horror, quickly getting up to try and stop him.

But Cacao already had them in hand, but to Garmadon’s surprise nothing had happened. At all.

“Are they supposed to do something.?” Cacao asked in confusion.

Garmadon, still shocked. Quickly returned to reality.

“No mortal shall possess all four, you should’ve disappeared by now.”

“Im aware of that, but Im not really mortal. Plus I’m entirely different from you.”

Well he was right, he was. A cookie, not born but baked. So I guess it would make sense for nothing to happen.

“Anyways, I believe these are yours.” Cacao hands him the weapons.

“Thanks, and they’re not mine. They’re technically the ninjas.”

Garmadon puts the weapons in a large pouch that was covered by his cape.

“It was nice seeing you again, I know you’re always busy but you should really come visit Ninjago!”

“Yes, yes I know. I’ll come if I ever have time.”

“Please do. Anyways I’m off now, Till next time Cacao.”

“Safe travels, Garamdon.”

They waved goodbye as Garmadon went off.

#dark cacao cookie #dark cacao crk #ninjago #ninjago lord garmadon #lord garmadon #ninjago au #lego garmadon #crk #dark cacao kingdom

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 2 years ago

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Birthday

pairing: non-idol bf!Seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: mentions of food, alcohol, mean and insensitive people, cursing

word count: 0.8k

summary: it’s your birthday and noone is invited - except you and your boyfriend.

Author’s note: Happy birthday my beloved Vicky boo @delicatewerewolfsoul 💕 Words cannot describe the gratitude and love I have about you and our friendship and I really hope it will withstand against time🥺 hope you’ll have fun today and you’ll enjoy this teeny tiny piece <3

“So, anything fun planned for tonight?”, your friend asks you with a playful tone. “Well, depends on what you mean by fun, because your definition of fun is quite different from mine”, you give a snarky reply and you roll your eyes when you hear your friend scoff from the other end of the line.

“Well, whether you have plans or not, you’re coming over for your birthday party and we’re gonna drink!”, she happily exclaims and you’re left utterly baffled, because….you had no fucking idea about this.

“I will what?”, “We rented a house and bought drinks for your birthday party!”, “And you didn’t even bother to ask me?”, “But it was meant to be a surprise!”, “Well I have a surprise for you too - I’m not coming”, you deadpan and hear an exasperated gasp. “YOU FUCKING WHAT? ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”, she screams from the other end of the line.

“I have no intention of at- Cheol, wait!”, you shout as Seungcheol barges in the living room, snatching the phone out of your hand, shushing you with his pointer on his lips, “Hello, this is Choi Seungcheol, is this Y/N’s friend?”, “Yeah, now give me Y/N back, I have to talk to her”, “First of all, Y/N isn’t yours to be given back. Second, when it’s someone’s birthday, they have the right to spend the day however the fuck they want. And if Y/N says she doesn’t want to attend your shitty party, then she won’t”, Seungcheol nearly growls in the phone. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?”, “I introduced myself a few seconds ago, not my fault you’re probably deaf”, he laughs, sending you a sly wink.

It’s your turn to snatch the phone out of his hand and take control of the situation.

“Listen to me - The man you were talking to is my boyfriend and I intend to spend my birthday with him, all. Day. Long. Now excuse us, but our couch is waiting. Bye!”, you hang up right on her face, throwing the phone on the couch.

A second of silence passes and the both of you crack up, laughing out loud to the point of tears stinging your eyes.

“Oh my God, I wish I was there to see her face!”, you fan yourself to calm down. “Honestly? Same”, Seungcheol wipes his eyes with his hand, “It would have been hilarious”, he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Okay, enough about that”, you change the topic, “Where were you this whole time?”, “Oh, me? I just went out to do some last minute shopping”, he grins widely. “Last minute shopping, huh”, you narrow your eyes at him. “Yes, and now I would like you to close your eyes and turn around”, he instructs you, “But Cheol-”, “No buts, you’ll do as I say and trust me, you won’t regret it”, “Okay, fine”, you grumble and ultimately do as he says, giving him the chance to do what he has in mind.

It takes him approximately three minutes to put the brownie cake on the table along with two glasses of red wine and light up the candles. You can hear the familiar sound of the lighter and you’re trying to stop yourself from laughing out loud, so you settle for covering your mouth with your hand.

“You can turn around now”, Seungcheol sing songs and you turn around, opening your eyes to see your boyfriend grinning like a fool, urging you to sit down and blow the candles while you make a wish.

“Come on, baby”, “Stop being such an idiot, I wanna make my wish!”, you whine in protest and take your time to make your wish, finally blowing the candles on the cake, Seungcheol clapping and letting out a tiny ‘yay!’.

“You’re such a dumbass”, you laugh and circle the table to reach your boyfriend and hug him, but he decides to lift you and spin you around, carrying you to sit on the couch, taking a seat right next to you.

You pick the fork in front of you and take a bite of the cake, letting out a satisfied sound when the rich chocolate flavor hits your taste buds. “Is it good?”, he asks and you wordlessly hand him over the fork so he can take a bite too.

Seungcheol mirrors your expression as he tries out the brownie, mumbling an ‘oh my God’ with a full mouth. “This is so damn good, fuck”, he almost moans, “I know, right? You made a great choice, babe”, you admit, taking more of the cake. “Easy there, champ”, he laughs and picks up the wine glass, waiting for you.

“A toast?”, he asks, “Thought you’d never say it”, you swallow and pick up your glass.

“Happy birthday to the most beautiful woman in the world”, “God, you’re so cheesy, Cheol!”, you clink your glasses and take a sip of the scarlet red wine.

“For you? Always”.

#svthub #scoups fluff #scoups angst #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #svt scoups #choi seungcheol #svt fluff #svt angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen

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thevaloroushearts-archive-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

(( yes hello I’m sorry I haven’t been very active here lately and I am very much apology yes

HOWEVER I do have this lovely commission done by @diidiidoodles I wish to share! LightDark!Alyx and LightDark!Oriel together looking super fierce as a brother sister double team, gosh just look at their poses and their glorious effects! Love it!

Anyone interested in commissioning her, here’s a link to her commissions! Thanks again friend! ouo)7 ))

#diidiidoodles #gallade #gardevoir #bisharp #darkrai #alyxgallrai #alyxgallade #orielgardevoir #orielgarderai #au #alternate universe #yes I really do enjoy this AU idea shush #it makes me excited ok D:

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bnha-dumpster · 3 years ago

Note

The thought of a submissive incubus just came to mind and now I can’t stop imagining the reader (incubus) trying to take control of the situation but gets fucked and tamed instead.

this? this is a good idea. i feel like doing some priest au iida lmao

Pairing: Priest Iida x Incubus Reader Content tags/warnings: dub-con, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, mind break/mild dumbification, aphrodisiac spit Word count: 1.6k

You’re a poor excuse of an incubus, you know this. Naturally submissive, shy and introverted, inexperienced with sex- all things that an incubus shouldn’t be. You’ve been feeding off of other incubi and some succubi for energy. You knew that it wouldn’t last forever, that you’d eventually have to feed off humans. But it’s dangerous with your submissive nature. That’s why you’ve been trying to stay with your kind for as long as possible.

Now you’ve been tossed out, left on your own without any sort of advice. There’s an intense hunger inside you that’s clawing at you, one that’s clouding your reasoning. You stumble through the streets as if you’re drunk. Humans ignore you thinking you’re just an annoying drunk and you know you’re not going to get energy in time.

Then you run into a priest.

“No, I’m fine-” Your speech is slightly slurred as you protest his help. A priest is the last person you need to run into right now. He’ll exorcise you or contain you until you tell him about other incubi in town. Both things scare you and you try to tug yourself out of his hold. Unfortunately for you, the priest you’ve run into is not only stubborn but strong. If you weren’t so weak, you might’ve been able to break away. There are so many things that would’ve been solved if you weren’t so weak.

He helps you walk, leading you to his church. The second you reach the steps, you tug on his cassock and shake your head.

“I can’t go in there. I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Your hopes of him listening to you are crushed instantly as he shushes you and opens the large doors. The moment you step in, your already fading human disguise vanishes. Large, spiraling horns protrude from the sides of your head, a thin tail at the base of your spine, your hands and feet turned to claws and the small tattoo below your navel; if he can’t tell you’re an incubus from this, you don’t know what will.

The priest stops and stares at you, letting go of you. You fall to your knees on the floor, no longer strong enough to keep yourself standing. It’s humiliating to be found out in such a way. Though it’s your fault for allowing yourself to be grabbed by the priest in the first place.

“An incubus?” He seems a bit curious as he kneels before you, lifting your chin to look at your face. “You’re not doing so well. What happened to you?”

What little pride you have left keeps you from answering.

“You must be hungry. While my fellow clergy may look down at me for this, I’ll help you.”

Confusion is clear on your face. You look at him like he’s insane. Maybe he is, but the thought of being able to feed matters a bit more than figuring out where the hell his common sense went.

“I thought incubi were good at pleasing their partners.” He’s mocking you. The priest, who introduced himself as Iida Tenya, looks down at you as you do your best to take him into your mouth. He’s thick and your jaw aches slightly, but that ache naturally turns into pleasure that goes straight to your core. “You’re inexperienced, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

Hands grab your horns and force your face further, making you take his cock down your throat. While you don’t gag, you’re clearly uncomfortable. You claw at his wrists to make him stop but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

“See, you take all of your partner’s cock into your mouth.” Iida groans. “Suck and move your tongue around it. You can do it, I’m sure you can.”

Surely he’s making fun of you. You may not be like the others, but you can still do what you were born to do. So you begin to bob your head up and down, letting things come to you naturally. His cock is heavy on your tongue as you lick the underside of it, teasing the vein that runs along it. You make use of your lack of gag reflex and make sure that you take him fully each time.

It seems like it’s working, like you’re gaining some semblance of control. Just from this, energy is already beginning to flow your body. If you can make him cum, then maybe-

“Tsk, I thought you’d be better than this.” Seems like he knows exactly what’s going through your mind. “Do you really think you can overtake a priest when you’re in such a state? Don’t be foolish.”

You’re tugged off his cock. Iida is about to grab you by your hair and bring you up onto the bed until you press a hand on his lower stomach. You have enough strength to leave a branding: a piece of incubus magic that forces a human to be overcome with lust. It typically leaves them a mess, unable to do anything but beg for pleasure. But going along with your lack of luck, it backfires.

The feeling of intense lust fills the room and instead of the priest curling in himself, he drags you onto the bed by your horns. You’re laying on the bed with your ass up, Iida already lining himself up with your hole.

“Natural lubricant, hm?” There’s a bit of slick coating your ass and inner thighs. It’s something incubi are able to make when they’re anticipating being the bottom.

He pushes in slowly. Your hole greedily swallows his cock, clenching around it to milk him. Iida grabs hold of your tail and wraps it around his hand like a leash, using it to bring your ass against his hips. You can feel the heat of the brand and the lust radiating from him. The fact that he’s managing to stay even the slightest bit composed is amazing.

“You’re begging for me to give in, aren’t you? You just want me to let go and let you have your way with me, yes?”

“C-clearly!”

Once the words leave your lips, a harsh spank is left on your ass. The pain instantly changes to pleasure and you tighten around him. He begins to spank you more, enjoying the way your walls clench and shudder with each impact. You’re doing your best to hold in any moans and pleasured noises to spite Iida. It’s all you can seem to manage to do. Even with strength filling you, he’s still got a good hold on you.

Your cock twitches from neglect. It’s not that you need it to be touched, you just prefer it. Yes, you can cum without touching it, but you want to touch it. So you reach between your legs to pump your cock, letting out a small groan. But your hand is swatted away.

“Who said you could touch yourself?

He lets go of your tail and and pulls out, watching you flip yourself over. His cock twitches in anticipation when you pull him towards you for a kiss.

Your tongue is long and clearly inhuman. It invades his throat and nearly makes him gag. The properties of your saliva are forgotten, letting his mind become a haze. Between the brand fueling his lust and the sudden warmth caused by your saliva, he loses what little cleric dignity he had.

Iida pulls your face away from his by your hair, pushing you back onto the bed so he can thrust into you again. Your legs go over his shoulders and you’re able to recognize that the priest has you in a mating press before he begins to pound into you. He smashes his lips against yours, mouth open- he’s asking you to kiss him more. You happily do so, thinking that the haze he’s being enveloped in will give you a chance to take control. Lips mash against each other as you shove your spit down his throat with your tongue.

The aphrodisiacs in his system must be too much and he cums, filling you. A strange daze washes over you and you lose your focus on the brand. Is this what human energy is like? It’s absolutely addicting. That addicting feeling pushes you over the edge, your own cock covering your stomach in cum. Your eyes roll back into your skull and you lose yourself for a few seconds.

He hasn’t stopped and you don’t think he will anytime soon. His cock is still hard, stretching you and pushing his cum even deeper inside you.

“Maybe I’ll keep you, hm?” When did he regain his mind? “Keep you like a little pet. You’ll have to rely on me to survive anyways.”

Your mind is still in a haze and he takes advantage of it. He continues to pound into you with no pause, his own stamina still high. While your cock is limp against your stomach, he watches as more cum dribbles out of it.

“Be a good incubus and cum more and more. If you do what I ask, I’ll give you more than you could ever need.”

If you could think properly, you would curse how obedient your body is. Your cock twitches to life for a few moments before you cum again, an almost never ending stream of cum landing on your stomach. He groans as your walls clench around him. It’s like your body is begging for more of him, which it is.

“There you go. I’ll keep you here so you can’t hurt anyone else.” That’s not the real reason he’s keeping you, but that doesn’t matter. You’re already lost to his words, the feeling of a human’s energy destroying your mind.

#tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #iida tenya x reader #iida tenya x male reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader smut

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timbertumbr · 2 years ago

Note

This is gonna be probably a bit more difficult. So my idea is Error x Reader x Nox. I don’t have references this time but I can explain it as much as I can to help give you some context.

Basically Error is there because he wanted to destroy the AU but reader convinced him not to and he ends up being a roommate who eventually crushes on Reader. Nox likes to visit Reader and also crushes on them. The two are VERY well aware of the other’s feelings towards reader and become rivals (I imagine every visit is met with a glare). Reader loves both of them but is quite shy about it. They eventually find out try to woo them with their own unique ways.

It’s an idea I have for my fanfic that I want it to end in a poly relationship! Think you are up for the challenge?! Two tsunderes vs one simp reader!!! Good luck!!!

The Glitch and the Coffee Addict (Error X Reader X Nox)

Hehehehe, I'm going to have fun with this one. Hope you enjoy! I did alter it slightly, hope you don’t mind-

Note: Both skeletons are simping for the reader, not each other. I have to say this everyone time because people are weird.

When a destructive, glitching, seemingly aggressive skeleton appeared in your living room claiming to destroy this “accursed AU,” you weren’t too bothered by it, after all, you had a house full of skeletons and odd situations across the street. You just sighed and approached the monologuing skeleton, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. He quite literally jumped and turned to glare at you, opening his mouth to say something when you shushed him.

“Look, I dunno what your deal is but could you not destroy a bajillion lives cause you feel like it? Okay? Thanks,” You then just, walked away, Error had never had an encounter like this, one where you so confidently approached him and just asked not to be destroyed before going about your day. He was baffled, a little annoyed but intrigued. He decided to stick around, and see how things would play out.

And that is how you got a powerful skeleton as a roommate, a little moody at times but overall nice company. You wish you could say the same when Nox came over, those two would always get into some sort of competition and every time, you had to break it up before they destroyed your house again.

You loved them, you really did, you just wish they’d stop having glaring matches whenever you left the room because yes, you DID notice them. As you thought over this while playing a game, the two in question were fighting each other to the death within said game. You really wish you kept PVP off.

“Don’t you DARE steal my coffee beans you brute,” Error rolled his eyes, or at least what’s equivalent to them.

“Then YOU stop taking my crops, addict,” You sighed.

“Could you two please stop fighting, I’m trying to do something,” They both fall silent as you decided to go through with your plan, if you couldn’t express your feelings in the real world, then you’ll do it through the medium of game. You gathered all the resources you needed and glanced at the two of them before taking a deep breath.

“Hey, could you two meet up at my house?” They were immediately on their way as you had what you needed. As their characters stood in front of you, you take out the rings and marry both of them with the help of mods. Your face is red as you silently wondered what their reaction would be.

“. . . What?”

“. . . What?" They both wondered out loud in bewilderment, you take another deep breath to calm your nerves.

“I um… I like you both, a lot. And I was wondering if we could maybe… Start a relationship together?” They’re both silent for a bit before they both just poof in your room.

“Well, if it’s you I suppose I could tolerate the glitch,” Error huffed.

“Fine, I won’t t-t-take his soul, at least for a while,” You smile gently, happy to have finally confessed your feelings for the two skeletons.

#x reader #requested #sans #bhc #bonely hearts club #bhc nox #bonely hearts club nox #nox #bhc x reader #bonely hearts club x reader #bhc nox x reader #nox x reader #bonely hearts club nox x reader #error #error sans #error x reader #errortale #error sans x reader

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dragonmuse · 2 years ago

Note

With all of the AU's, I've been thinking - is there an alternate timeline where Jim meets Oluwande earlier or later?

(I went with earlier cause later made me sad.)

-They huddled under the desk, legs folded tight to their chest. The cheery yellow plastic tablecloth would hide them for a while. The teacher wasn’t paying attention anyway. Sometimes they could be here for an hour or more before anyone noticed. At eight they were already long and thin, easy to fold up.

A hand came under the cheery yellow plastic, lifted the corner just an inch. The new kid’s face peered at her. They got ready to kick at him.

“Can I come too?” he whispered.

The new kid had looked awkward standing in the front of the room. He’d smiled brightly when the teacher put him next to them and tried to start a conversation. They hadn’t said a word, so he went quiet. That was yesterday. He tried again that morning.

And now this.

They nodded once and he clambered under and pressed his back to the wall beside them. They waited for him to start talking so they could shush him, but he didn’t say anything. Just let out a breath like maybe he really did want to hide alongside them.

They get found out a full half-hour later. Art is over. The picture they were meant to draw of their family stayed blank.

- “Do you walk home?” Oluwande asked them the next day.

“Yeah.”

“Which way do you go?”

They pointed behind them and Oluwande nodded. “Me too. Want to walk with me? My sisters are really boring.”

They didn’t need to walk with anyone. They would go home and do their homework and make themselves a sandwich. By the time Nana got home, it would be time to train. They didn’t need anyone.

“Yeah,” they said anyway. Oluwande wasn’t like the other kids, who already knew them. They might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

-Oluwande’s sisters were older. Ava was in fifth grade and Ziva was in third. They talked a lot to each other and laughed a bunch. Oluwande didn’t seem to mind when they got ahead. He picked up a stick as they walked, used to poke mud puddles from last night’s rain.

“What are you doing?” They asked after the fourth time.

“Seeing if any of them is actually ten feet deep so I can jump in.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because it’d be fun. Don’t you splash in mud puddles?”

“No. That’s baby stuff.”

“No, it isn’t. Watch!” He took off running and jumped with both feet into one shallow puddle. Water splashed up in all directions.

“I can make a bigger one,” they mumbled. He didn’t hear them. So they showed him.

“Wow!” He grinned at them as the water rained down around them. “Awesome!”

Nana did not appreciate the dirty boot prints.

-Somehow, they wound up being invited over to Oluwande’s house after a few weeks of walking home with him. It was a nice house. It smelled good and it’s full of people. It made them want to cry a little, but they don’t cry anymore.

“Want to play a board game?” Oluwande offered. “Or we could do tag.”

“What board games?”

They played Trouble, the dice bubble popping loudly. They liked how it sounded and how Oluwande concentrated really hard. He didn’t get mad when they won, but when they played again, he beat them so that was okay too.

“Do you two want snacks?” Oluwande’s mom asked, leaning in from the door.

“Yeah!” Oluwande smiled at her. “Can we have dunkaroos?”

“Ask your guest if they want that,” Dolly suggested.

“Sorry, do you want dunkaroos?” Oluwande asked them.

“Yes,” they said because he seemed excited. They had no idea what they were.

Dunkaroos were cookies dipped into frosting. There was no way Nana would every buy such a thing and they tasted amazing.

“Don’t you see the commercials all the time?” Oluwande asked. “They’re on like all the time.”

“We don’t have a television.”

“Oh,” Oluwande carefully dunked a cookie. “Why not?”

“Dunno. Nana doesn’t like it.”

“You can watch it when you’re here then. Come on, I bet Powerpuff Girls is on!”

-Nana doesn’t say no to them spending time with Oluwande. They keep waiting for her to say it. They go over there a lot, stay for hours. They won’t know for years about the quiet conversations Dolly has with Nana, talks about being a single parent. Talks about how children need each other. They’ll never know the details, but they feel the reverberations. The way they are allowed to linger at the edges of the Boodhari family.

-In middle school, they start hiding their skirts and finally Nana agrees that pants are more practical. They cut their own hair with a pair of kitchen shears, so it sticks up around their head like a hedgehog's prickles.

“I like it,” Oluwande said loyally.

“I want to shave it all off.”

“Mom got me an electric razor cause I got some lip fuzz,” he pointed to his upper lip where the first few hairs curled. “I bet we could use that.”

It took some time in the bathroom and afterwards their head looked a little like an egg.

“Oh.” Dolly said when they wandered out again. “I hope you both cleaned up the bathroom.”

“We did,” they said quickly. “Really good.”

“It suits you,” Dolly looked them over. “But you’ll need a good hat this winter.”

-Oluwande auditioned for the musical in seventh grade. He was just in the chorus, but it took up a lot of his time. They considered their options and joined the crew. It wasn’t so bad learning how to use power tools and making something from nothing. One of the parent volunteers even let them use a nail gun which was really cool. The other crew members would horse around sometimes, but during the show they were serious and they liked that.

“You’re not so bad, Jimenez,” one guy slapped them on the back once. “You’re our kind of weirdo.”

No one had called them by their last name before. It seemed...long.

“What about Jim?” Oluwande suggested when they mentioned it. “I know it’s not saying the ‘J’ the same way, but-”

“I like it,” Jim said immediately.

Jim had a shaved head, a best friend and an extracurricular. That was pretty sweet.

- Jim and Oluwande get through high school as a unit. They were unbreakable though no one really even tries. Oluwande had other friends. He was good at that, but he didn’t really go over their houses much. When he did, he brought Jim along like a safety blanket and they grimly stayed at his side.

Nana tried to institute daily training again. She talked grimly of vengeance, but Jim had tasted the other world. The one where Ava went to college and Ziva went on dates and Oluwande sometimes wasted whole days trying to ‘catch ‘em all’ on his Game Boy. A pursuit that Jim may have occasionally indulged in when he’s doing something else. The game was dumb, but Jim loves all the stupid names. They like psyduck the best and Oluwande let them name it ChaosWarrior even though they both knew it was a terrible name.

Jim learned how to throw a knife. Precision and focus, but Jim also learned how to play soccer, dancing around the field, sliding between other players. Oluwande came to all their games. Jim worked behind the scenes of every play he’s in.

“Where do you want to go to college?” He asked them.

“I don’t think I’m going,” they muttered into their sandwich.

“You’re going,” Oluwande said firmly. “Or I won’t go.”

“You’ve got to though,” Their head snapped up. “Your mom will kill you if you don’t.”

“Correction,” he said with a wide smile, “My mom will kill us.”

Dolly does indeed produce a lot of pamphlets when Jim suggested that college wasn’t for them.

Nana looked over the pamphlets grimly, “This won’t solve the problem of them.”

“Maybe it’s not my problem to fucking solve!” Jim hissed and then they stared at each other over the ocean of glossy papers. Papers covered with smiling students on green fields. Jim didn’t know if they could be one of them, but Oluwande was going to be and they wanted to be there for that.

“They took your family.”

They had. Jim knew that. No one could replace their parents, their brother. No one could give back the life wrenched away from them.

But something could stand where they stood. Someone could hold their hand when they grieved unevenly through the years. Someone could climb under the table and sit with them.

“And they’ll suffer for it,” Jim said quietly. “But not today.”

-They go to a state school with Oluwande. Of course the school won’t let them room together, so Jim puts up with a horrible roommate, who smelled of too many different perfumes. Oluwande liked his better and insisted that Jim meet him.

“This is Frenchie,” Oluwande explained. “He’s a music major.”

“Hey,” Frenchie was curled up around a guitar. “You must be Jim.”

“Yeah,” Jim watched him warily. “That’s me.”

“Do you like mermaids?”

“What? No,” they scowled at him.

“Cool,” Frenchie nodded. “What’s your favorite mythological creature?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has one,” he chided. “Oluwande’s is a unicorn which is awesome.”

“It is?” Jim asked confused, then glanced up to find Oluwande mouthing ‘only one I could think of’ at them. “Uh...dragons? I like dragons.”

Frenchie launched into Puff the Magic Dragon. Jim wasn’t familiar with all the words and listened with at first mild boredom, then fascination. Eventually they sat on Oluwande’s bed and tried not to think too hard about death and dragons and little boys. Their eyes burned.

“Oh no....okay,” Oluwande put an arm around their shoulders. “Frenchie that one’s off the playlist.”

“Why-okay okay! Wow. It’s off,” Frenchie held up his hands in surrender which was weird because Jim was still just looking at their own hands. “Sorry. Hey, how about something completely different?”

He switched it up, but Jim was still curled against Oluwande’s side. It was comfortable there.

They loved him, naturally. How could Jim do anything, but love him? Jim had dated a little, tried it out in high school. Even made it all the way with one of the crew guys. The one who thought they were his type of weird. It had been okay.

But Oluwande was different. Oluwande was all the good things in the world. Jim couldn’t handle them not being together if something went wrong and if that meant keeping the words to themselves, they were pretty good at keeping quiet.

-Frenchie’s Dad died in their sophomore year and he slipped away one night like the sun dipping behind a cloud. He had actually grown on Jim and it was uncomfortable that he could just go like that.

“I’ve got his number,” Oluwande told them. “You want to text him?”

Jim: why’d you go?

Frenchie: wasn’t the spot for me. But you do you, pikachu. We can still catch a pick up game when i’m in town.

Jim: fine.

-Oluwande dated a nice guy named Sammy for the first part of junior year. Jim hadn't hated someone so much, who hadn't done anything wrong before. They didn’t say a word about it, but somehow Oluwande knew anyway.

“What’s your damage?” He asked eventually.

“Nothing,” they frowned and folded down into themselves.

“Did he do something? Say something? You know if he did-”

“No,” Jim said firmly because Oluwande liked the fucking asshole and he was happy. “He’s fine.”

“So why are you trying to kill him with your eyes all the time? Do you have a thing for him?”

“No!” Jim bit off and luckily Sammy came back in the room and the conversation ended.

Jim attempted to date in their new free time, gifted to them care of Sammy wanting one-on-one time more often. None of the guys felt right. One of them said, very kindly,

“Hey, you ever like...go to the LGBTQ mixer events or anything? Bet you’d like it.”

Sammy was the president, of course Jim didn’t go.

“You should come with,” Oluwande tugged on their sleeve one evening. “Please. I feel weird at these things and Sammy gets busy.”

Reluctantly, Jim went. There were a lot of things they didn’t care about. But there was one person with green curls that fell around shaved sides of their head. They said their name was Rain and Jim said nothing because Jim knew what names could mean.

“I’m nonbinary,” they told Jim.

“What’s that?” Jim frowned at them.

“Oh wow, okay, let’s sit.”

Jim had new words in their mouth after that. And a new datefriend. Rain was pretty good in bed and taught them a lot about a lot of things.

“You going out tonight?” Oluwande asked over lunch.

“Yeah, Rain and I are going to check out a theater thing,” Jim shrugged. Then watched as Oluwande pulled a face. “What?”

“I don’t like them,” Oluwande muttered.

“Why not?” Jim asked with a frown. They liked Rain just fine, but if they rubbed Oluwande the wrong way, then Jim would toss them out on their ear in a second.

“Just...don’t. I don’t know.”

And Jim, who would admit not to reading people very well, could piece that together just fine. They had made that expression too many times not to recognize it on someone else’s face. But...but it was Oluwande. And they were probably wrong.

-Senior year, Jim and Oluwande got an apartment together. Rain just smirked when Jim told them, gave them a kiss and broke up with them. Sammy kept hanging around, practically moving in with them too. Jim ignored him for the most part. Sometimes they threw knives at the dartboard in the kitchen when he was around just to remind him what was what.

To pay for the rent, they both worked as waiters, counting their pennies for when it all came to an end and the rest of their lives would have to start.

“I think I want to try drag,” Oluwande said one night as they ran past him on their way to the kitchen to fix an order.

“Sounds great,” they told him as they slid the fixed plate onto the table. “Where and when?”

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Watched you put on costumes and makeup for years,” they pointed out.

Sammy didn’t like it. Sammy got the fucking heave-ho at last. Jim did a victory lap outside after Oluwande cried himself to sleep. That felt a little mean, but Jim thought they’d earned it.

-”I’ll need a name,” Oluawnade told them. “Maybe a pun or something.”

And Oluwande had given them Jim, so it only felt right that they at least thought about it. He liked Motown music.

“Diana Boss,” Jim suggested.

“...good enough,” he grinned.

-Jim didn’t know enough to help with makeup, the dress or the heels, but they knew about balance and they knew how to dance. Oluwande figured out the rest on his own.

The local club liked Diana enough invite her back occasionally. Jim sat in the audience and applauded them on.

-That was the year Jim grew their hair back out a little. Played with the length. Started to look at themselves in the mirror more though they couldn’t say what they were even looking for.

Frenchie: i’ll be in town for a bit. Game?

Jim: name the time and place

Oluwande couldn’t get out of class, so Jim when on their own. Frenchie looked a little different, less wild around the eyes. There was a guy with him, big and tattooed, but he just sat on a park bench and took out some knitting needles.

“That’s John,” Frenchie said with a grin. “He’s just gonna chill out. Doesn’t do sports.”

“Where’d you find him?”

“Oh you know,” Frenchie let the ball dropped to the ground. “Around.”

They kicked the ball around for an hour, and it felt good to run with someone who was doing it for the sheer joy of it instead of to win. It was only when they were pleasantly worn out that Frenchie ventured,

“How’s Oluwande?”

“Good,” they decided to just flop into the grass. They were filthy anyway. Frenchie lay down beside them. “He’s doing drag.”

“No shit? Small world, me too,” Frenchie laughed. “John and I have a whole act we put together.”

“Really?” Jim’s squinted up at the sun. “Small world.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Jim snorted.

“You’d be great on stage. Got a lot of grace.”

Jim shrugged. “I’m crew. He’s the talent.”

“Yeah, I think that’s bullshit,” Frenchie stretched upwards. “What if you were both the talent, huh?”

“I’m no queen.”

“So be a king.”

-Jim thought about it as the money in their account ticked slowly up and the days until they have to have an after college plan tick down.

“What are you going to do?” Oluwande asked them as they sat together in the dark of his bedroom. They were both on the floor, passing a bottle of rum back and forth.

“I don’t know.”

“You have to know,” he said woozily. “Because where you go, I go.”

“No, no,” they slurred. “Where you go I go. So you have to know.”

“Oh shit,” Oluwande giggled. “We’re gonna get so lost together.”

When they both wake up in the morning, hungover and still on the floor, Jim reached for his hand.

“Hey,” they said. Because maybe talent was a fucking metaphor. Jim hated metaphors, but they were sick of feeling the gut-churning swoop that seemed to never end. They had to end it. “I really want to get lost with you.”

“You do?” He stared at their face. Please understand, they thought at him as loud as they could.

“I do,” they swallowed thickly.

“Okay, please stop me if you don’t want me to kiss you right now because that would be super fucking awkward.”

Jim didn’t stop him.

-They graduated college with no more idea of what they were doing in life than they had that night, but at least they were together.

-They get an apartment, cramped and ridiculously awful, but they were together. Jim found a job at the power company and got trained to work on the lines, lofted above the city streets in a cherry picker. They get to hold power in their hands and watch the world below. Oluwande worked events for a non-profit fundraising house.

-Nana called sometimes. Jim let it go to voicemail, called back only when they were sure they could handle it. Only when they were sure they could say no. They still practiced their knives though. And as inevitably as breathing, one day Oluwande said,

“I’ve got a kind of wild idea.”

-Jim liked being on stage, throwing knives. Oluwande liked dancing between them. Maybe they were both the talent. When they found Bonnet, the Revenge, it still appealed. They still called Frenchie and brought him back into their orbit at last.

Oluwande quit his day job. Jim kept theirs. The world fell into place around them, altered, but sturdy.

Sometimes, after it rained, Oluwande would hold out his hand and Jim would take it. They would go outside and jump in the biggest puddle they could find.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #au of the au #paint me orange and teal #oluwande boodhari #jim jimenez

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seiyasabi · 4 years ago

Text

Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc..

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) )

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt.

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for.

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare.

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed.

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?”

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.”

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone.

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.”

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her.

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences.

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that.

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!”

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before.

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh.

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage.

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home.

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces.

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before.

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor.

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this.

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso.

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably.

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!”

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat.

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.”

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well.

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.”

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!”

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid.

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form.

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone.

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face.

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it.

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight.

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling.

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well.

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him.

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?”

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you.

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets.

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt.

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties.

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!”

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart!

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal.

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly.

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.”

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can.

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute.

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so.

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties.

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.”

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead.

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you.

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour.

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you?

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?”

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before.

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny.

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you.

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on.

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing.

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls.

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more.

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest.

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth.

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you.

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously.

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it.

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven.

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you.

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?”

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin.

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading.

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh.

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.”

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive.

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table.

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation.

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you.

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket.

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?”

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera.

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you?

#yelena #yelena x reader #yandere yelena #yandere aot #yelena brainrot #yelena aot #aot x reader #yelena thirst #yelena smut #yelena supremacy #yandere aot x reader

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harveywritings92 · 3 years ago

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BNHA Vampire soulmate au: they feed off you for the first time.

They explain to you how blood tastes to them and enjoy a meal...

Tw: Blood drinking, heavy petting

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Hawks: It's been a year you and Keigo seem to be together, you've been talking about moving in together anywho, You got a paper cut and Keigo who was crashing at your placed smelled it from your living room, he nearly gave you a heart attack when you turned around to see him standing behind you, his gold eyes had red tinge as he eyed your finger like a like man who hasn't eaten in a week. "Ey, there I thought you've already had enough to drink today?" you were referring to the black and red sports bottle he'd brought with him. "I did, It's just- You have no Idea how hard I've been holding back, your blood it does something to me..." Keigo husked eyes locked on the crimson nectar dripping down your hand he was salivating and swallowed hard. "My blood...does it smell good?" you asked timidly.

The blond snapped out of his trance. "Petal, you smell like ripe strawberries and chocolate to me..." Keigo has already told you how smoker's blood smells and taste to him, well you now you were curious about non-smokers, and asked if blood type also has an effect on the blood's flavor? the winged vamp was happy to answer!

Smokers: Charcoal/moldy bread.

Drunks: depends on how drunk they are, it's somewhere between hard soda and hard wine or liquor.

Drug users: no idea, he says they smell like rotten eggs, and he's seen how loopy other vamps act after feeding on them and stays clear of them.

Sick/injured: He stays away from sick people but they smell like a cross between a hospital or a funeral home.

Virgins: sweet/tart like fruit-punch.

regular folks: like Sangria the fruitiness is still there but it's mixed with bitter wine .

"Blood types don't really change up the flavors, but I've noticed type As have a spice to them, Bs start off sour, and type Os are pretty mellow." You hummed very intrigued at what you were hearing then, noticed Keigo was still eyeing your finger, like a starved animal, you looked down at the cut then back Keigo and noticed his wings were tense and he was clenching his jaw, after some thought you sighed you held your hand out to him. "Go head before your jaw breaks" His wings bristled. "I'm not some desperate leech y'know." he huffed you shrugged and went to went to put a band-aid on, but Keigo stopped you.

"Let's not be hasty here..." He stammered out at you cocked a brow at him. "Yer really giving me mixed signals here." you huffed did he want your blood or not? " Um... Are you sure about this?" he said blush adoring his cheeks. "I'm just letting you suck my finger...Why are you acting like I just asked you to pop my cherry?" Keigo's face was as red as a cherry as you said this. "Because you essenually are..." He explained the big difference between mates and prey, on instinct he wouldn't give a crap about some rando he picked up off the street or whatever mystery pack the commission gives him, but you...

You're his soulmate, his fated one... and right now your pretty much telling him to make you his! He's not gonna stop at your finger, once he's had a taste he's going for your neck! And once he bites you that's it, you have his mark forever, You paused absorbing what the blond male just told you...Well, he hardly leaves you alone already might as well go all in? "Do it." Hawks's eyes were red now. "Come" he hissed sitting across from you and gesturing to sit in his lap.

You complied and watched Keigo warily as he brought your finger to his mouth, immediately you felt a shock go through you the second Keigo's tongue started lapping at the cut, he moaned tasting your blood for the first time. He was right you tasted every bit as sweet as he thought you would...*more...more...* his monster groaned euphorically he felt the cut on your finger close from his saliva's healing properties.

Keigo's eyes drifted towards your neck, You gasp feeling his grip on your hand tighten before his free hand found it's way behind your head, you tensed seeing Keigo's fangs elongate but before he could pierce your neck he smelled your distress.

His rough hold on you suddenly slacked and his hands lowered to your hips his thumbs gently rubbed you sides as he left little kisses and nip along your jaw before you calmed down enough to trust Hawks wasn't gonna tear your throat out. "Just relax." he cooed kissing you neck a couple more times like a countdown. one...two... three!

You tried not to scream as you felt his fangs pierce your neck, your fingers gripped his jacket as you felt yourself be drained... then like a switch had been slowly tuned the pain tuned into pleasure? moans started sneaking their out from your mouth which confused you, the blond vampire groaned in ecstasy at how rich your blood tasted with lust mixed in he buck his hips against you, after what seemed like hours Keigo's fangs finally retracted from your flesh and lap at the two holes he left on your neck, they sealed as you whimpered weakly Keigo just shushed and you. "It's alright kid, you did good" he cooed kissing your head as you started drifting out of consciousness.

When you woke up your head was pounding like a bad hangover Keigo was cradling you in his lap looking relieved and sheepish, he explained he went a little overboard with his drinking and venom dosing and you got drunk on him and passed out! you must've looked panicked cos Keigo assured you were completely fine, the venom isn't lethal... (To you anyways, one of the benefits of being a vampire's soulmate.) Though you might be a bit feverish and cranky for the next couple days.

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Dabi: You were on your period so yes Dabi's self restraint was breaking! you had no fucking idea what you blood was doing to him you smelled like a 5 star meal and all he could do was sit and drown in his own drool and watch you, like a hawk as you moaned and groaned about cramps and ruining your pajama shorts when you woke up this morning! a low growl escaped the faux raven haired vamp when he saw you toss out a bag with said aforementioned shorts, it took every nerve in him not to run after the garbage truck like a starved dog! before something you said snapped him out of his trance. "hn...What ya say?" he looked at you drinking his third��pack of cow's blood.

"I asked if my blood smells good and what does it taste like?"

"I wouldn't know haven't tasted yours yet..."

"Well, what about anyone else's?"

"Why are you suddenly interested?"

You huffed "Sorry for wanting to know you..." and were about to tell him to forget it, when the the undead cremator spoke up. "Mocha mixed wit' something spicy like cinnamon or rum" he muttered not looking at you. Of course you cocked a brow now intrigued, now that that was out of the bag he might as well tell ya the rest.

Smokers: burnt rubber/earwax (eh, everyone was a kid once, had to know what that gunky crap in your ear tasted like.)

Drunks: Depends on how much they've drank, it could between hard water to straight up red wine.

Drug users: the one time he fed on one he thought they were just a pothead, but in turned out they had ate a few shrooms which made them kinda taste like... orange juice and black liquorice?... Honestly he can't give a straight answer, as he was too busy trippin out on another plain of existence to remember.

Sick/injured: doesn't feed off the sick, but they smell like a hospital or a morgue.

Virgins: like apples and honey

Regular folks: they taste like Apple cider.

Animal blood: kinda tastes like artificial cherry cough syrup, and he hates it!

"Then why do you drink it?" you gulped seeing his cerulean eyes flash red for a brief second as he locked eyes with you. "Why?...*growl* your standing in front of me smelling like a walking buffet and you have to gall ask me why I drinking this crap?!" he snapped crushing the blood pack in his hand as you started backing away, you were nervous that only fueled Dabi's sadistic side you learned early that he enjoyed agitating you via flashing his fangs, popping behind you out of seemingly nowhere, and faking you out.

I.E. making it seem like he was gonna bite you then blow air in your ears before walking away laughing at your reaction, something about putting you on edge and having your adrenaline pumping through your veins adds more "spice" to your scent, it happens so often that Dabi started noticing arousal was mixing in with your fear, you bet your ass he started mocking you for getting off on him scaring you.

Of course right now you weren't sure if he was seriously mad, or making fun of you again? He was not making fun of you again he was seriously pissed off, The nerve of you walking around asking him about useless crap, and offering him nothing in return! Dabi had you backed against a wall face buried in your shoulder you felt him sniffing you and flinched you felt him nipping along your neck, and like all the other times he's riled you he smelled that that little speck of arousal through the fear.

He let out a low chuckle causing you to to become fed up, you though he was screwing with you again! "Goddamm-.hm!" You were cut off by sharp yelp as Dabi's fang suddenly pierced your neck! oh god it hurt! you whimpered tried shoving Dabi off! he groaned pushing your back against the wall, suddenly your body felt weird... you moaned it was hot and and everything felt sensitive...

You barely registered Dabi lifting your legs up you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, he let out a low purr and his demeanor became less angry and forceful, his shoulders relaxed as his hands gently rubbed your legs, after what seemed like hours Dabi finally pulled away from your neck lapping at the pin holes he left on, he checked on you only to find you passed out his eye had a rare tenderness to them as he eyed your flushed appearance. "Well aren't you high maintenance." he cooed his thumb caressing you chin before taking you to bed.

----------------------------------------------------

Bakugou: He didn't want say what you smelled like to him as it made him look soft, he finally cracks after more poking a prodding. "If I fucking do will you shut up and let me sleep?!" he hissed it was 8: 47 p.m. and he was tired which confused you, the sun was still out and you could hear kids playing in the streets outside. You heard a angry growl Katsuki's ears were pink. "S'mores...you smell like S'mores, happy?" he groaned when you started shaking him, no point in trying to sleep now that he's lit the fuse! He gave you the sum up of what blood tastes like to him.

Smokers: old news paper and figs.

Drug users: No clue stays clear of them, they smell like pickled eggs.

Drunks: Somewhere between hard water and flavored vodka.

Virgins: Why would you want to kno-... arhg! Coffee and vanilla!

Regular folks: Irish coffee and bitter mint.

Then you you started asking about blood types and what it was when he drank, Next thing you knew Katsuki let out this frustrated bellow! You yelped as he grabbed your wrists and pinned you under him. "You wanna know what it feels like?" you sheepishly mumbled a meek "yes" but the blonds red eyes narrowed. "Hah? say that again I couldn't hear ya?" he jeered trying to get you to use your voice, you repeated "Yes" again a bit more forceful as the ash blond unbuttoned the shirt he let you borrow exposing your neck to him.

Katsuki frowned he could smell your reluctance, then grumbled in annoyance as he recalled Shitty-hair's advice ""Take it slow, be gentle..."" He took a deep breath and carefully buried his face in you neck, You flinched expecting him to clamp down, giving how much you annoyed him, but to your surprise; Katsuki instead opted to started leaving kisses along your jaw and collar bone.

You bit back a moan when he found you sweet spot and causing Katsuki to smirk if wasn't so hungry and tired right now, he might've taken this much farther, but the mouthwatering scent of your blood calling him was too much to pass up. "I'm gonna do it" he husked as you nodded and with that, Katsuki's fangs pierced your neck.

You gasped in pain felling them puncture your skin as Katsuki grasped your hand, the blond groaned in euphoria your blood tasted every bit as rich and sweet as he thought it would, he could smell your discomforted and on instinct inject a doses of his venom into your bloodstream in minutes your blood's flavor intensified with added lust, your tiny moans and whimpers were music to his hears, soon his instincts were warning him stop.

Katsuki's fangs retracted he lapped at the punctures he left on your neck, before pulling away to look at you and snorted you were a flushed out mess. "That sate your curiosity?" he huffed fixing your shirt you tried to say something but were too exhausted to say anything tangible, the ash blond chuckled and settled down next to you for the night.

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#boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #bnha soulmate au #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami #Dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #bnha vampire au

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crystaltrinket · 2 years ago

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how i love to see you smile - Naruto - Uchiha Sasuke/Hyuuga Hinata - drabble series for SasuHina Month 2022

Summary: Sasuke likes Hinata and she’s oblivious. Modern AU, High school.

[Rating: G | Prompt: Hyggelig - the warm pleasure taken from gentle and comfortable things and activities| Word Count: 500 | Warnings: None] @sasuhinamonth

Part 8 | Part 9

Author's Note: My Day 9 entry. Enjoy!

Sasuke was not one to call attention to himself. He preferred to work behind the scenes and be out of the spotlight. He couldn't say the same about Naruto. They were complete opposites. So, when Sasuke came up with the idea of preparing something for Hinata while she was busy studying for her Business Japanese Proficiency Test, Sasuke swore Naruto to secrecy.

"Don't. Say. Anything." he threatened. "Hinata has been studying non-stop. I want to do something nice for her."

"Have you told her you liked her? That'd be nice," Naruto sat at the Uchiha dining table, slurping up instant noodles.

"I've told you a million times. It's more complicated than that," Sasuke drummed his fingers against the table. "And not so loud, dobe. My brother is right upstairs."

"What's he gonna do? Tattle on you for having a crush?"

"Who knows, maybe," Sasuke shrugged. "Look, Hinata's dad has it out for me for some damn reason. So, I'd like to keep it a secret."

"Alright," Naruto chugged the broth. "What's your plan of action?"

Sasuke stared blankly at his blond friend.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought of anything!"

Sasuke shushed him. "Keep it down!"

"Okay but what the hell are you thinking, bringing me here not having a plan?" Naruto whispered.

A light blush appeared on Sasuke's face. "I just needed someone to bounce ideas off of," he grumbled.

Naruto furrowed his brow in thought, then his face brightened at his realization. "Am I... your wingman?"

Sasuke shrugged. "I guess..."

"Oh man," Naruto pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "I'm so honored. After all these years. Me - you chose me!"

"Dobe-"

Naruto mimicked Hinata's higher pitched voice. "Oh, Sasuke-kun, you're so thoughtful and-" Naruto immediately cleared his throat as Sasuke glared daggers at him. "So... what did you have in mind to help Hinata with studying?"

Sasuke was quiet for a moment. "I heard scents are supposed to help with studying."

"Buy her perfume-y flowers?"

"I don't think that'll work. Her test is in two weeks. Do flowers last that long?"

Naruto pursed his lips. "Sakura-chan mentioned something about a candle-making class at the local community college?"

"I could make her scented candles."

Naruto slyly smiled. "Or... you can take her to the class, and you can make candles together! Oooh, it'll be just like a date!"

Sasuke nodded. "Sounds doable."

Sasuke nervously watched Hinata from his peripheral vision as she made her candle. His own creation was looking a little worse for wear, having chosen odd colors in his wax base. He hated to admit it, but he was nervous Hinata would be more stressed than relaxed by this activity. Had he known candle-making required so many steps, he would have opted for something else.

"Sasuke-kun?"

Hinata's voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I really enjoyed doing this today," she smiled. "It was nice to get my mind off studying."

She squeezed his hand and his heart raced. "I really appreciate you, Sasuke-kun."

#sasuhinamonth2022 #sasuke uchiha/hinata hyuuga #sasuke x hinata #sasuhina #series: how i love to see you smile #creator: crystaltrinket

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years ago

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I Don’t Like A Gold Rush || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college's football team. Rumor has it, there's simply nothing he can't do. The same cannot be said about you, but you've never had an issue with that. You're happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you've taken an interest in him — and you're sure you shouldn't. There's no way this can end well for you... right?

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 17.3k

Genre: College AU, strangers to lovers, slice of life, mostly fluff

Warnings & Tags: discussed insecurities, alcohol consumption, reader almost has a panic attack at some point, shy jungkook, jungkook is bad at Feelings, Reader is bad at feelings too, mutual pining kinda, Jungkook has long hair, sfw, New Year’s Day themed.

A/N: I don’t know how I would name my stories without Taylor Swift. Anyway, this is more or less centered around the New Year (it was supposed to be more and then... it didn’t happen), and I hope you’ll enjoy it! Happy New Year everyone!

The first time you hear Jungkook’s name, it’s in the sentence “Man, is there anything Jungkook can’t do?”. You look up at your friend Jin from the book you’re studying. You have no idea who Jungkook is, but that doesn’t mean anything. Jin is always complaining about how you don’t know anyone on the campus, which you think is quite unfair.

…but then you really don’t know that many people on the campus.

“What’s going on?” you ask him, because he sounds extremely annoyed, and he shows you his phone. On it, there is a score for a basketball game. You think.

Your college is famous for its basketball team… Right?

“Uh-uh,” you still say with a nod, trying to make it look like you have any idea what you’re talking about.

“This kid is crushing it at school, the girls love him, and now this!” Jin complains, a little too loud, and shushing noises come from a spot behind you. You turn around to give the group an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t have bet against him.”

Ah, there you know what to say.

“You really need to stop making bets. You never win them.”

Jin glares at you.

“And you are a terrible friend. You’re supposed to comfort me!”

“I’ll comfort you when you stop making the worst choices imaginable,” you mutter, going back to your work. Jungkook’s name, his supposed excellence, and that basketball match — if it even is basketball — leave your mind as fast as they entered it, without leaving a trace behind.

“So the school’s won another basketball game, huh?”

You look up at Namjoon who’s just arriving to the table, holding his tray in his hands. You know he can’t possibly be talking to you about that, so you’re not surprised when Jin appears behind him. That doesn’t stop you from throwing Namjoon a disgusted look.

“Really, Joon? Sports?”

Namjoon shoots you an amused glance from behind his glasses. It’s notorious in your friends’ group that you despise conversations around that subject. You hate anything that involves objects flying around and anything that’s played in a team, and, apparently, those are the only sports that people care about. They could discuss athletics, or swimming, which you wouldn’t enjoy but you wouldn’t hate, but that never happens.

“You were right, Jin. That Jungkook guy really is impressive.”

You tune them out. You don’t care about basketball.

“You’re talking about yesterday’s game?” Yoongi asks, coming out of thin air, and you sigh. You had been hoping you would have at least one person to talk to during lunch.

“Jungkook’s friends with Hoseok,” Jin says, leaning forward conspiratorially, which does get your attention. If that’s true, then that Jungkook guy can’t be a completely terrible person. Hoseok is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met.

That being said, he might have very low standards for his friends. You know him enough to appreciate him, not to judge his tastes.

“So I’m going to become friends with him,” Jin announces triumphantly, only to be rewarded by a chorus of groans and protests.

“But why, Jin?” you ask. “Please don’t talk about popularity. This isn’t high school anymore.”

“And that stuff was already stupid back then,” Namjoon adds, and you nod. You can always count on Namjoon to support you.

“And I hate people,” Yoongi says.

“And Yoongi hates people!” Namjoon immediately picks up. “Do you really want to make him go through that?”

You grin at the question. Yoongi’s misanthropy always comes in handy. Jin, however, is not amused, but he just shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s used to the three of you teaming up against him by now. Usually, it’s on academical subjects, but he isn’t phased by it anymore regardless of that. Not that there’s much that can phase Jin anyway.

“First of all, I said I was going to be his friend, not you lowly peasants, and second, he seems like a nice guy! Do I need another reason to want to make friends?”

You tilt your head.

“He’s protesting too much,” you say.

“I agree,” Namjoon nods. “That’s suspicious.”

“Very suspicious.”

“Come on,” Jin rolls his eyes, “do you really think that little of me?”

“And now he’s trying to guilt-trip us. Joon, can’t you analyze that conversation and figure out what it all means?”

“You know that’s not how literary analysis works, right?” Jin asks you, but you ignore him.

“Actually, it is,” Namjoon says, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’d say you were right with your comment,” he adds, looking at you. “I’d say… this is about parties.”

“You’re not going to actually believe—”

“Thanks, Joon,” you say, and the two of you high-five without looking at each other. Yoongi lets out an appreciate whistle.

Even if Namjoon and you aren’t being serious about this, parties actually make sense. Jin… isn’t quite a social butterfly but, unlike the three of you, he does enjoy people’s company to some degree. You know first hand that he’s been to a few this year — you had accompanied him for moral support — but they were pretty tame, and you’re aware that he at least wants to try some more intense stuff. The problem was that those were harder to be invited to. Hoseok could probably do something about it, but he tends to avoid parties on campus.

“Okay, then you should go for it,” you nod.

Yoongi and Namjoon, sitting on either side of you, approve. Jin looks a little surprised at your reaction.

“That changed your mind?”

“You said you wanted ‘the full college experience’,” Namjoon explains with a shrug. “If you think that’s part of it, we wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

“We will judge you for it, though,” Yoongi warns without batting an eyelid, pokerface perfect, and you laugh. You won’t be mean about it, of course. You just might tease him a little.

“Thank you,” Jin says. “I’ll do it, then.”

Good. If you’re lucky, it will be out of his system next time you all have lunch together.

Lady luck had never been on your side, for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t like you got the worst of things either, but usually, things that could go wrong, did go wrong. Because of that, you tried your best to remove those things from your path. Sometimes, though, you just didn’t manage to identify them.

And that’s why, when you hear Jin’s voice and look up from your food, being the first at the table as always, you see he’s accompanied by two people.

One of them has fluffy, dark brown hair, falling on either side of his face and in his eyes. He’s talking and laughing, and there’s something that you can’t help but identify as mischievous in his smile. The other is slightly taller, with jet black hair held up in a bun. He’s quiet, mouth opening for silent laughs when his friend jokes. Between them, there’s Jin, and you think that they look good together. All handsome, all holding themselves with confidence.

You had realized before that Jin felt out of place in your group, from an outside point of view at least, but it’s never been as striking as it is now, as he’s walking with people he clearly belongs with.

It makes you really thankful that he’s your friend.

“Hey,” Jin says, smiling widely, “these are—”

“You’re untying your hair before eating?” you say, looking at the guy with the bun who just sat opposite from you and took off his hair tie with a sigh. He looks up at you with wide round eyes, like you just caught him red-handed — doing what, you’re not quite sure.

That is the first thing you ever say to Jeon Jungkook.

“Um. Yes?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get hair in your food?”

You know people find you too blunt sometimes, think you come off as aggressive, but you almost never intend for that to happen. In that case, you just think the logic here is a bit surprising.

“That’s… a good point, actually.”

“(Y/N),” Jin sighs, “let me introduce you to Jungkook” (he points to the man who’s now tying his hair back up) “and Taehyung.” (he points to the other guy, who’s flashing you a smile.)

“Oh,” you say, looking back at Jungkook. “You play basketball.”

He lets out an awkward laugh and avoids your eyes. Instead, he grabs his fork and focuses on it, twirling it in his hand.

“Yeah, I do— I do that.”

Huh. It takes you a second to piece things together, and you think Namjoon will be of great help once he’ll be there, but for now, one conclusion comes to you.

Jungkook is shy.

“I play basketball too,” Taehyung says, leaning over the table, grinning at you, and you can tell that it’s his way of swooping in to save Jungkook. You can appreciate that.

“She hates basketball,” Jin warns.

“That’s a strong word,” you say, but only half-heartedly, because, well, you definitely don’t like it.

“I think it works.”

“You think what works?”

Jin’s face falls while you grin. If Taehyung is Jungkook’s savior, Namjoon is yours. Your friend sends you a questioning look as he sits next to you, facing Taehyung. He gives polite nods to the two basketball players, like they sit with you at lunch every week, but you notice that he doesn’t quite meet their eyes. Namjoon is not particularly shy, nor a misanthrope like Yoongi, he just isn’t too comfortable around people he’s just met.

You and Jin, well, you’re perhaps a little too comfortable. Not everyone likes it.

“He says I hate basketball.”

“But that would imply you care about basketball.”

“Exactly.”

“And you don’t.”

“I know.”

“Which means you don’t hate basketball. As always, you’re wrong, Jin.”

Jin looks extremely, extremely done with you, but when you and Namjoon high-five, Jungkook laughs quietly and Taehyung nods in appreciation — for the gesture, not the debate.

That is the moment when Yoongi drops his tray on the table and sends a weird glance towards Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What did I miss?” he asks. His tone is a bit dry, and you see Jin’s shoulders straightening. He knows Yoongi is going to be the most difficult one to win over. Not that you’ve been won over yet, but you’re not that difficult. Usually, people don’t like you, not the other way around. You don’t blame them. You’re not sure you’d like yourself very much if you were in their place.

“Oh,” Jungkook says spontaneously, “we had a class together last year! You’re majoring in engineering, right?”

Yoongi looks at him. His eyes are shining with suspicion, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. Knowing him, he’s definitely wondering why Jungkook would even remember him.

“Right,” he finally confirms, slowly.

There’s a moment of silence, which Namjoon breaks.

“I’m a literature major, by the way.”

“That’s really cool,” Jungkook comments honestly, with the same spontaneity he displayed earlier.

“And I’m in mathematics,” you say.

“Wow. I thought you people existed only in legends,” Taehyung says while Jungkook avoids your eyes. You decide that, yeah, you like Kim Taehyung.

“Don’t say that, I like maths,” Jungkook protests, voice soft, much to your surprise — and, judging by his reaction, Taehyung’s.

You were right, you decide. Jungkook is not a completely terrible person.

You didn’t expect it to become a routine, for Jungkook and Taehyung to eat with you guys, but it does, and as time goes on, other people join your little table. You’re not sure you like that. It’s clear that those people are orbiting around Jungkook, which, good for them, but you don’t see why you need to be there for that.

You do see that Jungkook is not completely comfortable with all of it. He’s good at handling people, good at making jokes and at laughing at the right times, you notice, but there is a stiffness in his shoulders more often than not, and it looks like he’s well-trained at it rather than enjoying it. It kind of reminds you of Jin, except Jin is not as quiet the rest of the time. Taehyung obviously does his best not to let his friend deal with things alone, which is sweet, but he can’t do everything for him.

You barely exchange a word with Jungkook during that time period. You’re usually trying to be forgotten when the table is buzzing with noise, finding refuge in Namjoon and Yoongi’s company. You thought Yoongi would be an ally in reclaiming what’s always been your spot, but it quickly becomes obvious that he has a crush on Taehyung’s friend Jimin, so he never complains about the recent invasion of the table by strangers.

You hear a lot of basketball vocabulary. More than you care for, to be honest. That’s one of the few moments when Jungkook’s face lights up and he gets truly excited, with an almost childish happiness. His demeanor changes, from shy to confident, and the transformation never ceases to amaze you. As soon as the conversation ends, his shoulders fall, he smiles awkwardly, and focuses back on his food or his phone.

You’ve met his eyes a few times in those moments, because he often looks around him like he’s afraid someone’s noticed. He averts his very quickly, though, so you’ve never said anything about it.

So, really, there’s not much that changes. You still only speak to your three friends — you think Taehyung is a good person, and you don’t think he hates you, but you don’t have anything to say to each other —, and sure, you have a little less space when you eat and more noise around you, but aside from that, it’s pretty much the same. You think that’s a relief. You’re not too fond of change.

Usually, you’re pretty decent at spotting it coming. You did miss it when Jin said he was going to become Jungkook’s friend, but other than that you’re able to do your best to avoid it. You don’t see anything coming the day Taehyung calls out your name, though. You look up at him from the book Namjoon is showing you, surprised. He has an arm slung over Jungkook’s shoulders, and Jungkook isn’t looking at you, of course.

“Do you think you could explain a maths-thing to Jungkook?”

You blink at him.

“What’s the ‘maths-thing’?”

“Does it matter?”

You raise an eyebrow, and Jungkook groans. You get the feeling that he didn’t really want Taehyung to ask you about it. He sends an annoyed glance to his friend, who is still smiling brightly at you, while pushing a lock of hair out of his face. His hair is tied, but this one traitorous lock always escapes.

“I’m struggling a little with probabilities,” he admits, glancing at you for half a second. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine once I can get my head back into it, I’ve just been training a lot recently and—”

“I can help you, if you want,” you say. “I’m not the most fond of probabilities, but it should be okay.”

“Great!” Taehyung says, patting his friend’s shoulder before Jungkook can answer. “You should do that then.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jungkook asks, actually looking at you this time. You meet his eyes, notice that he looks worried about it. You can’t figure out why.

“I really don’t,” you shrug.

He smiles at you, a small, hesitant smile, but a smile nonetheless. Probably the first one he directs at you. It’s a nice sight, you decide, and you smile back.

Jin’s sentence “is there anything Jungkook can’t do” takes all its sense on the day you meet Jungkook at the library to study. You don’t know what you expected. You never thought Jungkook was dumb or anything, but since Taehyung asked you to help, you thought he would have some difficulties, at least. However, as it turns out, he either understands immediately when you explain something to him, or he’s already understood it. He asks for some clarifications here and there, but all in all, you feel kind of useless.

“You don’t need me at all,” you say after a little while, and Jungkook looks up from the book with the worried wide-eyed look you’ve gotten used to.

“No, no, you’re doing a great job,” he protests. “You’re really helping me out here.”

“No I’m not. It’s obvious that you could do that all on your own.”

He deflates a little at that, looks away from you.

“You help,” he mumbles. “I have a hard time focusing when I’m alone.”

Oh.

That makes a lot of sense to you, actually. You’re good at focusing all of your energy on one thing, perhaps even too good, to the point where you easily get obsessed and become unable to take care of anything else, but even you need the right conditions for that.

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

Jungkook gives you an anxious look.

“So you don’t mind helping me out?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that catches you, but you can’t tell what it is exactly. Maybe it’s the hope, or maybe it’s the fear. You don’t understand what he’d be afraid of. Worst case scenario, you would say no. That wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“We can work together,” you offer. “You can ask me if you need help for anything and I’ll just work on some other stuff.”

He seems relieved, and again, you just don’t understand it. It’s not like you’re his only option. There are plenty of people out there who could help him. Plenty of people who would jump at the opportunity of helping him. You know that, because he’s always surrounded by those people, and everybody in school seems to know him. Even when you walked into the library with him earlier, before you got to the table you’re sitting at now, a few students greeted him. You don’t see why he would attach any importance to you, specifically, helping him. You barely know each other.

“Thanks,” he says, and he gives you a small smile. For some reason, that makes you drop the subject. Instead of asking about it — which, knowing yourself, you probably would have — you shrug it off and reply with a nod.

The silence that follows feels comfortable, to you at least. You’ve never minded silence. Jin hates it, though. You get to work, watching absent-mindedly as Jungkook goes through the lesson he was working on. He does ask you a couple of questions, but it’s probably to make you feel like you’re doing something rather than because he actually needs it. You still answer them, and watch him grin, satisfied with himself, when he turns out to be right every single time.

“Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this week-end?” he asks out of the blue after about an hour.

You look up, surprised. The two of you haven’t exchanged much, and certainly have not talked about anything other than— well, other than maths. His eyes are on his notebook, as usual, and you don’t get any insight as to why he asked the question.

“I don’t know. Is Jin coming?”

“Uh, I guess? Taehyung’s probably talked to him about it.”

“Then I’m probably going.”

Jungkook mulls over your answer for a few seconds, twirling his pencil between his fingers, and you feel like you have to clarify, which is not an urge you have often. Usually, you let people decipher for themselves what you meant. That works very well with Namjoon, sometimes with Yoongi, not so great with the rest of the world. Including Jin, though Jin compensates with his impressive ability to interpret everything you say in his favor.

“We always go to parties with Jin. For moral support.”

For all that you tease him, you genuinely care for him. You know he wants you to go with him, so you do. It’s as simple as that.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, but he still smiles at what you say, and it’s— it’s interesting. There’s something about his behavior that makes you curious, like you are when you’re trying to solve a complicated equation.

“That’s nice,” he comments.

“So… you’ll be there?” you ask. It’s taken you a long time to come up with that simple question. It often takes you a long time to find things to say to keep a conversation going. You’re pretty bad at it.

“It’s at my fraternity,” Jungkook informs you, glancing at you briefly, and you smile. This is exactly the type of party Jin wanted to go to. He’s probably happy about it. “The entire basketball team should be there.”

Great. People.

“That’s nice,” you say, because you have no idea what to add at this point. Jungkook simply nods, and the conversation dies an awkward death.

It’s another half an hour until Jungkook looks at his watch and starts putting his stuff back in his bag.

“I have to go to practice,” he tells you, clearly in a hurry. “Can we— Would you mind if—”

“We can do this again. If that’s what you meant.”

He gives you a bright smile, and that actually surprises you. He looks relieved that you finished his sentence for him.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely.

And just like that, he’s gone, practically running out of the library. For someone who talks as little as he does, he sure leaves a void when he goes away, you think, looking at the empty chair.

But you quickly shrug it off. You’re used to being alone. You like being alone.

Jungkook isn’t going to change that.

You realize very quickly that, while accompanying Jin to parties was never something you particularly enjoyed, going to this one was downright a mistake.

You have this unspoken rule, with your friends, that you shouldn’t stick together the entire time. You’re supposed to wander off, find something to do for yourself, maybe talk to some people. Get that college experience. You’ve never had a problem to do that, even if you ended up quietly sipping soda in a corner more often than not.

Here, though, you simply cannot shake off the fact that you don’t belong here, that this is not your scene. The people here are loud, energetic, garish. They make you feel like a black and white picture, like a silent movie. You want to run away, but you can’t. You don’t want to leave Jin, Namjoon or Yoongi behind, even if you doubt they’re having the same kind of problems you do. You’re pretty sure you saw Yoongi talking with Jimin, and last time you saw Namjoon, you think a cheerleader was holding him by the hand and leading him out of the room. You don’t know what Jin’s doing, but you’re trusting that he’s okay.

You walk around aimlessly, find Jungkook and Taehyung playing beer-pong with some people. Maybe you should be happy to see people you know, but you’re not. If anything, it only drives the point home even more to see them so comfortable: you don’t belong here. Your chest tightens, and you turn around. You need a little peace and quiet. You need to get away.

“(Y/N)!”

You jump at the sound of your name. No one’s said it since you’ve entered the house. No one knows you here.

Except Jungkook, who’s right behind you.

He’s more confident than usual, and you guess, based on his slightly hazy eyes, that it has a lot to do with alcohol.

“Are you having fun? How long have you been here? It’s nice to see you!”

He’s speaking fast, excitedly, and as he does, he runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s let down. It looks good on him, you decide, even as you reply to him with a tense smile.

“Hey, you should join us, we’re—”

“Do you have a closet somewhere?”

Jungkook blinks.

“A closet?”

“Yeah.”

There are probably very few things that are less weird than asking a guy if he has a closet you can get into because you’re on the verge of having a panic attack and you can’t stay outside surrounded by people a second longer.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, though. He just leads you through the house and opens the door to a closet for you. You get inside without giving it much more thought, and he looks at you, puzzled. He’s actually looking at you, which you decide confirms that he is drunk.

“Do you— Are you waiting for someone?”

“No,” you say. “I just need a little break.”

He thinks about your answer for a while, probably longer than needed, and nods.

And then, he gets into the closet with you and closes the door.

Inside, it’s dark, with only a ray of light coming in. You can’t see his face, which doesn’t help you understand why he just did that. The space is cramped, and you can smell alcohol coming from his breath, can feel the heat radiating from his body, but it doesn’t bother you that much. It’s still better in here than outside.

“Why did you do that?”

“I thought I would keep you company. Like you’re here to keep company to Jin, you know?”

He’s drunk, definitely, and yet you feel genuinely touched by his words. You shouldn’t, because you doubt they hold that much meaning, but you can’t help it. You don’t need company, but that’s besides the point. His intentions are what matters.

“Thank you,” you say.

“It’s not a problem. You’re helping me with my maths.”

Your first reaction is to laugh at that, because it feels completely unprompted, but then the logic of the reasoning kind of appears to you.

“I mean it!” Jungkook protests. “You haven’t talked about how I’m good at everything or how I’m the one who should help you.”

You frown.

“You shouldn’t help me. You’re good at maths, but I’m better than you.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh, and just like his earlier smile, it takes you completely by surprise. It’s not one of those quiet laughs that he usually has. It’s light and pleasant, and you briefly wonder what his face looks like when he laughs like that. You kind of want to see it.

“You’re a scary person,” he tells you when he’s stopped laughing. “You always say those things directly. It’s like you don’t even care.”

You’ve heard that before. Well, you haven’t been called scary until now, but people have said that you were intimidating. You, personally, believe you’re the least threatening person to have ever walked this Earth. You couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to.

Jungkook makes some sense here, though. Your filter is very limited, and there are a lot of things you say that feel acceptable to you, and that other people… don’t think are acceptable. You don’t mean to do it. It just happens.

“I think you’re good at a lot of things, though,” you say slowly.

Jungkook lets out a long sigh and then you hear him sliding down to the ground. You hesitate for about half a second before joining him down there. You fold your legs, holding your knees against your chest while you wait for him to say something.

“People are always saying that,” he finally mumbles. “But what if I’m not that good? What if I fail one day?”

It’s strange. You understand what he’s saying, understand the feeling of pressure, but you don’t understand the emotions that should come with it. In your case, you know that no one holds you to a higher standard than you do. It can be unhealthy, the way you can torture yourself if you don’t meet the standards you’ve set for yourself, but at least you’re the only one you have to answer to. Obviously, it’s not Jungkook’s case.

“Then you’ll try again,” you say, because that’s what you do when you fail. “Or, if you think it’s not that important, you won’t.”

“But what will they say?” he insists. “What if we lose the next game? Or the one after that? What if I fail a class? I can’t get anything done these days.”

“You’ll be fine,” you say soothingly, half-wondering how you ended up here, comforting the college’s golden boy in a closet after fighting off a panic attack. “It’s not like you’re the only one in your team. People will understand.”

You think they will. You hope they will. They should.

“You would understand.”

It’s true, but then, you really do not care for basketball, and it’s not like you have that sort of expectations for Jungkook. You wouldn’t think much of it, if he failed at something tomorrow. If it was the maths test you’ve helped him with, you would be surprised, but that’s because you saw him studying and it was obvious he had understood everything, not because you think he can inherently succeed at everything he does.

Which you guess might be the heart of the problem here.

You reach out to put your hand on his shoulder. It’s not that easy in the dark, and you wonder for a second if you’ve grabbed something else, until you feel hair tickling your skin. Yup, you were right.

“You have the right not to be good at something every once in a while,” you say softly. “No one can be on top of their game all of the time.”

You hear what sounds like a choked sob.

“I like that they’re counting on me, you know? I like that I’m helping them out by playing. I just— I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

He said when, not if, and that breaks your heart.

Without thinking about it, you slide your hand down his arm and grab his hand. You squeeze it in yours, gently, and then you inch closer to put your head on his shoulder. You remember reading that physical touch was good for people who were in emotional pain. You hope it helps him.

“You locked yourself in here with me because you thought I needed company,” you whisper. “There’s so much more to you than just being good at sports or having good grades. And if people don’t see that, it’s their loss. Because you’re a great person.”

He hums, but the sound is quiet, and it’s then that you realize how tense he is.

Shit. You must have crossed a boundary. You start to remove your hand, but he closes his fingers around yours, keeping you in place. He’s still tense, you can feel it everywhere his body touches yours. But he doesn’t let go.

“You mean that,” he says. There are so many emotions in his voice that you can’t identify them all. Relief, happiness, amusement… You don’t know where to start.

“I usually mean what I say.”

“I’ve noticed,” he says, and you can hear the smile that’s dancing on his lips.

He’s still not letting go of your hand, but you don’t mind. Staying here, with Jungkook, in this small closet is as good a way of spending your evening as anything else you could do out there.

So you stay.

“Where did you all vanish Saturday?” Jin asks, and Namjoon, Yoongi and yourself immediately find your food a lot more interesting. You exchange panicked glances that mean ‘did none of you stay around? This was poorly coordinated’ before finally daring to look up.

“I talked to Jimin,” Yoongi says, face as inexpressive as always.

“I played some beer-pong with Taehyung,” Namjoon says.

That leaves only you.

“I talked to Jungkook,” you tell Jin. That is technically true. It omits the part where the two of you were together in a closet, but if you said that, there would be a lot of questions you don’t really want to answer to. Somehow, you think you would be more embarrassed to tell them that there was nothing going on there than if you told them you hooked up with him. You’re not sure why.

“Jungkook disappeared for a long time,” Jin says, narrowing his eyes at you.

You do your best to keep a straight face while you poke at your salad. You don’t want anyone here to have the wrong idea, and you finally manage to put your finger on what you’re afraid of. Humiliation. You’d feel humiliated at having to tell them that nothing happened and that there is nothing Jungkook could possibly see in you. They would be nice to you, of course they would, but you don’t want to see the look in their eyes.

“Did he? Maybe that was after I left. I didn’t stay that long.”

That’s a lie.

“Really?” Jin asks, clearly skeptical. “I think I saw you there pretty late.”

Maybe when you went down to get some snacks and drinks to bring back to the closet. Damn Jungkook and his stomach.

“Well, that depends what you mean by ‘late’ and ‘long’,” you say.

That’s you calling Namjoon for help, and he recognizes your SOS for what it is. From the way Jin’s face falls, so does he.

“She’s right,” Namjoon comments, so nonchalant you would almost believe he’s doing it naturally. “What is ‘late’, really? Isn’t it always—”

“Please stop,” Jin groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just because you’re a literature major doesn’t mean you’re the only one who understands words.”

“Actually it does,” you say with a nod. “That’s exactly what it means.”

You start lifting your hand for a high-five, relieved Jin’s attention is off you, but he sends the two of you a dark glare.

“You two are unbearable. Don’t do that.”

“We have to,” you protest. You would hate to miss a chance to high-five Namjoon.

“No you don’t, you—”

“Actually they do,” Yoongi says, and your jaw drops. Yoongi never intervenes, and you had always thought that if he did, it wouldn’t be in your favor. “That’s exactly how gravity works.”

Jin looks like his soul has left his body. He only comes back to himself after you, Yoongi and Namjoon have all exchanged high-fives.

“I hate you,” he says, sounding terribly tired. “I hate every single one of you.”

“Sorry Jin,” you smile warmly.

“No you’re not. You’re the worst.”

Except he sounds fond, affectionate, and you laugh before going back to your salad. You miss the quick glances your three friends exchange after that. They’ve all noticed you eluding and changing the subject. They don’t want to rush you, know you would hate it and that it’s better to drop it.

But they’ve noticed.

Working with Jungkook on Wednesday afternoons easily becomes a habit, so easily you don’t even notice it until it’s something you look forward to during the week. It adds to the time you already spend eating with him and Taehyung. Jungkook is, slowly, starting to become a part of your life. It’s a thought you refuse to dwell on, because it sounds so strange.

The Wednesdays afternoons are something special, though. You and Jungkook don’t really talk at lunch, even if he’s clearly more relaxed around you now, which you suspect is the reason why you’re ‘Taehyung-approved’. On Wednesdays, you— Well, you don’t talk much, either, but it’s different. It’s a time that only belongs to the two of you. You like that.

You slowly find out things about him, his family, his life. It’s never the main subject of conversation, but it makes you feel like you’re solving a puzzle.

“My father wanted me to focus on my classes and forget about basketball,” he comments once. “But I could do both.”

It makes you laugh, because he says it with obvious satisfaction, but it also makes you wonder if there’s more to it. Jungkook doesn’t add anything, though, and you don’t want to probe into his life, so you don’t ask. After that, small pieces of the puzzle keep falling into place.

“My high school coach told me I could train more if I didn’t work so hard for school.” But he could do both.

“My friends said I never hung out with them anymore and that I shouldn’t work so hard.” So he did both.

It’s always the same story. People telling him things, giving him opinions on what the should and shouldn’t do, and him stretching himself thinner and thinner. It’s almost a miracle he’s still doing as well as he is, honestly.

But his tone changes when he talks about his former relationships. He’s usually light and genuine, sharing with you just because. It’s clear that, as much as the stories make you frown, he doesn’t have an issue with them, and you guess that’s all that matters. The first time he says something about an ex-girlfriend of his, though, he’s guarded, almost careful. He sounds like he doesn’t want to tell you.

“My ex said I worked too much.”

He doesn’t add anything. Whatever it was she wanted, he couldn’t do it and work. Didn’t manage to do both. After that, he doesn’t look at you for the rest of the day, like he did when you first met.

You never get a name for the girlfriend. He talks about relationships again, but you don’t even know if he’s always talking about the same one. You doubt it, though, and it only makes things worse.

“My ex wanted me to attend fewer practices.”

“My ex said I didn’t care enough to make time for her.”

“My ex dumped me after I lost a game.”

That last one hurts you, because you remember him crying in the closet because of that exact fear. You want to take his hand again, but you can’t dare to.

“She’s stupid for that,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks surprised first, because you never comment on what he’s telling you, then a smile slowly forms on his lips.

“If the only reason she was with you was because you won a lot of games, you’re better off without her,” you add.

“That’s what Taehyung said.”

“Taehyung’s right.”

Jungkook goes quiet for a little while after that, to the point that you look up, worried that you might have offended him. When you do, he’s looking at you, something you can’t identify shining in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

He blinks like he’d just woken up for a dream, then nods. He doesn’t tell you that he hadn’t believed what Taehyung said — until you said it and he looked at you and thought that yeah, maybe he was better off without her indeed.

You’re surprised to run into Jungkook late one night, as you’re walking back to your dorm. It shouldn’t shock you — you do go to the same college — but you’re so used to only ever seeing him in the library or the cafeteria that meeting him outside is almost confusing. At least he seems taken aback as well, if the way his already round eyes widen is anything to go by.

Then, his surprised face morphs into a smile, and a wave of warmth hits you without a warning. You don’t get any time to think about it before he waves at you. His shyness is not completely gone, and you see him waver, hesitate, even as he’s walking up to you. You’re quick to close the gap between you, meeting him in the middle. Just in case.

“Hey,” he says, voice a little raspy. He has what you identify as a sports bag, slung over his shoulder, and you wonder what he was doing out so late. You were working at the library until it closed, which is far from being rare for you, but that obviously wasn’t his case.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling back. “Were you— training?”

Amusement flashes in his eyes at the careful way you chose your words, afraid to get it wrong. As he grew more comfortable around you, he also started making fun of you for not knowing the first thing about basketball. Strangely, you don’t mind that much.

“I was at the gym,” he says. “Practice was earlier today.”

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Should you ask what he was doing at the gym? The answer would only leave you with more questions, you’re sure.

You’re still debating it when Jungkook clears his throat. He reaches for his ponytail and undoes it, shaking his head so the hair fall back into place. The sight is— interesting. Pretty. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinated by it.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” he asks, slight concern in his voice. “It’s late.”

“Is it on your way back?” you question, frowning. You would hate to be a bother.

“No, but—”

“I’m fine, then. I do that several times a week, I’ve never had a problem.”

That was, apparently, not the thing to say. Jungkook only looks more worried now.

“Several times a week? That’s really not careful.”

“I don’t see a problem, there’s no one around.”

“That’s exactly my p—” He stops and shakes his head, but gives a look you’ve seen before. A lot. It’s a look that says ‘I can’t believe someone as smart as you can also be so stupid’, in those exact terms. “Expected value,” he then says, and your eyes widen a little. Maths! Great. You can do maths. “Let’s say there’s a 99% chance nothing happens. Your gain is still minimal.”

Well, you get to study late and enjoy a walk home alone at night, but you’re willing to humor him.

“But in the one per-cent where something bad happens…”

He doesn’t have to finish his sentence. You know exactly where this is going, and you let out a sigh. He’s not wrong. On that aspect, at least.

“Fine.”

He grins widely.

“I just beat you at maths.”

“You didn’t beat me, I—”

“I just beat you at maths!”

You roll your eyes, choose to let him have that. It’s not going to change anything to your behavior after tonight, because the day has not come where you’ll let probabilities rule your life, but, after all, you don’t mind sharing your night walk with him.

Jungkook starts showing up to walk you home whenever he can. It’s not every time, which you’re kind of thankful for — you like his company, but you like being alone just as much, and you need a healthy dose of that every week —, but it does happen regularly. You find him sitting in front of the library, freezing cold, and you take pity on him, buying him a coffee from the vending machine inside, seconds before they lock the building.

That’s how you find out he likes his coffee tasting as little like coffee as possible.

Sometimes, he joins you later, and you hear him jogging to catch up with you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that that defeats the purpose of everything he’s doing, because it’s absolutely terrifying.

As the days turn into weeks, the air becomes colder, and you start seeing Christmas decorations appearing over the campus. You don’t know who is in charge of doing that, but they must be excited about it, because tinsel and few strings of fairy lights start appearing around the campus at the end of November. Jungkook is delighted by it, and you enjoy watching his reactions. You’re not big on Christmas, personally. You enjoy the tradition, the gift-giving, spending time with your family — you’re visiting them briefly this year — but you mostly see Christmas as an excuse for all of that. Jungkook loves it, though, and you decide that his excitement makes you like the season a little more.

“Hey, we should make a stop,” he tells you one night.

You look at him like he’s crazy. It’s the middle of December and it’s already half past nine. You’re cold, it’s dark outside, and you want to go home.

“A stop?” you repeat.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, and he has that wide, childish grin that you’ve seen only a handful of times. You haven’t learned how to resist it yet. “C’mon!”

You sigh. But you follow.

As it turns out, he takes you just a little way off your usual trajectory. Behind a building you’ve never really paid attention to, Jungkook leads you to a small basketball court. You eye the place suspiciously. It’s empty, well lit, but you never know. A ball might come out of nowhere to hit you in the face, as they had a tendency to do when you were in high school and playing for a team that had picked you last.

By the time you turn around to tell Jungkook that, okay, you’ve seen it, let’s go home now, he’s taken off his coat and pulled a basketball out of his bag. You don’t even want to ask. His grin is even wider than earlier.

“C’mon,” he says.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me show you, okay?”

You want to say no but— It can’t hurt, right? And Jungkook loves basketball, and you’re his— friend or something, so you should try to take some interest in it.

You take off your coat and let him lead you onto the court. There, you watch him as he dribbles in what you guess is an effective way (you can’t know for sure, you’re barely able to catch the ball after it’s bounced once so your standards are incredibly low), and then demonstrates his ability to score a handful of times. It’s not that you’re not impressed — again, you can’t do anything with this unpredictable, devilish round thing — but you also can’t say this is a quality you think much of.

You liked it a lot better when he convinced you to let him walk you home by talking about the expected value.

“You want to try?” he offers, holding the ball out for you.

You would rather die.

But you take the ball from his hand and eye the basket like it’s personally offended you. That makes Jungkook laugh.

“You can get closer than that,” he says.

You hold back a groan, aim and, of course, fail. It’s almost a relief. You can cross that off your list, again, just like you did as a kid first, then as a teenager. You’re bad at sports, always have been and, considering the effort you’re putting into it those days, always will be. That’s something you can count on.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook’s caught the ball and is running back towards you.

“Okay, let me show you.”

Is he going to— No, he’s just demonstrating it. You’re kind of disappointed not to get your typical ‘guy teaching girl anything sports related’ moment, disappointed that he doesn’t come to stand behind you to show you like they do in movies, but you can’t unpack that right now. You do watch with some degree of interest as he shows you how to position yourself.

“So you really aim for the line above the basket, not the basket, okay?”

“If you think that just because I aim for something I hit it…”

He chuckles, then gives the ball back to you, and you sigh. This. This is why you hate sports. It’s not the one-off failure, that would be fine on its own. It’s the constant humiliation whenever you even try it. You’re going to fail this attempt, and the next one, and the one after that. You’re a lost cause. You’re fine with it, too, but you don’t particularly want to go through that again.

You do your best, though. Not because you think it will change something, but because you kind of want to prove that this isn’t all you. That, even if you’re trying your hardest, there’s just something that refuses to let you score or do it right.

“Wait!” Jungkook walks over to you, puts his hand on your back, and you freeze. “You need to straighten yourself a little,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades, and you nod. His hand is warm and large, you can feel it even over your sweatshirt. “There.”

He removes the hand, and you’re left a little off balance without him by your side. You shake your head quickly, shoot, and, without any surprise, miss.

Jungkook is on the ball just as fast as before, but you’re as quick as him to grab your coat and put it back on. You’re already feeling warm all over, though.

“You don’t want to try again?” he asks, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Of course, you take pity on him.

“Maybe next time,” you say.

He gives you a bright smile, so genuinely happy, and you know that you won’t be able to deny him next time either.

Jin is the reason you’re here, and that is the version you will stick with. No, you didn’t want to go see a basketball game, even if Jungkook is playing. No, you didn’t feel the slightest bit curious about it. No, you would not be there if Jin hadn’t asked. It’s Jin’s fault if you’re here on a Friday night instead of being, well, at your place, likely doing something equally as unproductive.

You don’t even understand what is going on in the field. There’s a lot of running and throwing the ball, that’s for sure, but then, you’ve just learned that scoring from different places in the field and at different moments will not earn the players the same amount of points.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your friends look at you with such consternation as when they had to explain it to you.

In that situation, you can’t say that you get much from looking at the field. You definitely follow Jungkook with your eyes, cheer and clap when he scores, and let out cries of disappointment with the rest of the crowd when he doesn’t, but truly, the only way you have any idea what’s going on is by looking at the score board. And the truth is, that score is a little too close for comfort.

You hate that it has that much of an impact on you, but it stresses you out. Your leg bounces on the floor, an habit of yours Jin hates, but he’s too focused to notice, which is only more stressful. Jin always notices, and if it doesn’t, it must mean that the situation is dire.

The remaining seconds are slowly ticking down. Jungkook’s team is ahead by only one point, which means that if the other team scores, they will win. You think. You’re not entirely sure, but for your defense, you’ve just heard about it. Jungkook seems to be everywhere on the field. Taehyung is his shadow, perhaps not as noticeable or as spectacular in his actions, but certainly effective.

Again, you have no knowledge of basketball whatsoever.

Jin grabs your thigh, and only then do you realize that something’s happened. The action was so quick, so smooth, that you missed it entirely — but maybe you were also kind of thinking of something else.

Someone from the other team — you don’t even know your school’s team’s players, you’re not going to learn the other ones — just made a break for it. Based on what you can tell, Taehyung blocked his path, pushing him straight into Jungkook’s arms. In a movement you cannot begin to comprehend, Jungkook takes the ball from him, without ever stopping his run.

After that, he’s unstoppable.

He crosses the field, looking almost like he’s dancing in the way he avoids his opponents, and, of course, scores.

The time falls to zero. The crowd stands up like one man, screaming and shouting, and you yourself find yourself jumping up to hug Jin. He hugs you back, but the two of you quickly separate, patting each other’s backs awkwardly.

Jin starts talking with Namjoon and Yoongi, but you tune them out — it’s not like you understand what they’re saying anyway — to look at the field. The players have lifted Jungkook on their shoulders and he’s laughing, holding on to them so he doesn’t fall, and you grin.

“Come on,” Jin says, “let’s go congratulate him!”

That sounds like a terrible idea, you think. You won’t be the only ones, as the crowd has already invaded the field, and you doubt you’ll be able to get very close.

You still follow him. You alternate between clinging to his arm and to his shoulders so you don’t lose him, and trust him to elbow his way through the crowd. You hear him apologizing profusely in front of you, but he does not stop. Slowly, you make it down. Once you’re off the stairs, people are not as compactly gathered, and you can just walk between them. Jin grins at you, and you give him a thumbs up. Yeah, he did good here. You can give him that.

“Hey, Jungkook!” he calls out.

Jungkook was talking with some girls, but he looks up at the sound of his name, excuses himself, and jogs towards the two of you.

And it is then, in the few seconds it takes him to get to you, that it hits you. Like a ton of bricks.

You had known that Jungkook was objectively attractive, of course. There was no ignoring that. But Jin was objectively attractive, too, and that had never changed anything between the two of you. With Jungkook, right now, it does. His skin is glistening with sweat, and he wipes his chin with his shirt, and oh no, you can see his well-defined biceps and the line of his abs, and some hair is escaping from his ponytail, and he’s grinning with a happy, proud smile, and his eyes are shining and—

Jungkook is hot. That’s your realization. You had been aware of it, technically, but it’s like it only clicks for you at that exact moment.

“You came,” he tells you with a bright smile, and you can feel your entire face heating up. You pray that it’s not visible.

“Yeah,” you squeak out. “Great, um, great game?”

It sounds like an interrogation because you have no idea if it was one. It looked difficult, but maybe that was because they played terribly today. You don’t know that.

Jungkook’s smile widens a little, and you know that he has you all figured out. He knows you don’t understand the first thing about this whole thing.

“Thanks,” he still says.

His chest is still heaving quickly, and it draws your attention to his— his everything. The way he’s leaning towards you as he’s trying to catch his breath doesn’t help either. You wait for Jin to say something, to save you, but when you look around, you realize the traitor has abandoned you completely.

Okay, he hasn’t technically abandoned you, he’s just gone to congratulate Taehyung, but it’s the same difference.

You hear someone else calling Jungkook’s name before you’ve figured out what to say. He looks around, then gives you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I—”

“No problem, you should— I have to go anyway.”

This is not like you. You’re an awkward person, and you struggle in social situations, but you don’t usually trip over your words like that. You kind of hate it.

“Okay, so, um, I’ll see you…?”

“Wednesday, yeah. Or— before. At lunch. If you’re there.”

This is terrible.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you one last smile, and then he’s off, and you’re standing alone in the middle of a crowd. Your chest is heavy and it feels painful.

You hate this.

It’s only after that that you start realizing how big of a part Jungkook now plays in your life. He walks you home at night sometimes. You eat with him once or twice a week. You study together for an entire afternoon on Wednesdays. He’s just— everywhere. And it’s not that it’s a bad thing, because the feeling you get when you see him is a pleasant one, but it is disconcerting. It’s something that you have no control over whatsoever and that’s not— that’s not good for you.

You realize how much attention you were already paying to him, too, which is even more annoying. The signs were there. You should have understood this sooner. If you had, maybe you could have prevented it.

Because that’s the thing. You know the situation is ridiculous. You believe Jungkook sees you as a friend, and you’re happy with that, but there is no way he thinks of you as anything else. That is not an idea you should even begin to entertain. You can handle rejection, you’re used to it in so many aspects, though it’s rarely romantic, but you cannot take getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed.

The thing is, you can’t help it at this point, can’t force your feelings back in. There is so much to like about him. The way he plays with his hair, the quiet laughs when he’s in public, the loud ones when he’s walking you home, the sparkle in his eyes when he asks you a question in maths and it turns out he already had it right, the look on his face when he talks about basketball,… There’s so much.

You briefly consider avoiding him, but that’s not really an option. You like being his friend. You see your feelings as annoying, pesky little things that have no business being there in the first place. You don’t even hate the rush that goes through you when you see him, the way just looking at him brings a smile to your lips that you simply can’t hold back.

But you really, really hate the wishful thinking. The hope.

The feelings are fine, as long as you don’t think too hard about it. As long as he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Because that would break your heart.

And it’s only a matter of time before that happens.

You really considered declining when Jin asked you to come to this New Year’s party. Your last experience had effectively convinced you that those new parties he was getting invited to were not for you. That was fine, to each their own, but that did mean you didn’t really want to go. He clearly didn’t need you there anyway. You didn’t even know why he asked.

But he did, and he insisted, and he gave you his best puppy eyes, and that’s the thing about Jin: he’s very, very good at giving puppy eyes.

So that’s why you’re there, wearing a red dress that’s way too flashy for you, leaning against a wall and staring into the void. You feel empty and, though you’re not alone, lonely. You’re surrounded by strangers, and there are people everywhere in the house, but you don’t know them, and you can’t just start a conversation with them. It’s not something you do, it’s not even something you want.

You haven’t felt the urge to lock yourself inside a closet yet, though, so you guess that’s an improvement compared to last time.

Looking around, you can see Jimin, perched on the counter, listening to Yoongi talk with a smile on his face. Jin is somewhere else in the room and, though you can’t see him, you sometimes hear him, so you know he has his flirting voice on. Namjoon is nowhere to be seen, but that’s probably a good sign. He always get lucky at those parties. You don’t know how he does it. It’s impressive, honestly. Hoseok showed up earlier, and everyone greeted him like he was a star — which is kind of accurate, actually, at the campus’ scale.

You know, of course, that Jungkook and Taehyung, as inseparable as ever, are by the pool table. You also hate that you know it, because now your mind is constantly wondering if it’s weird that you haven’t been there yet, or if it would be weird to show up. Neither, probably, because exactly no one cares except for you, but you’re the master of torturing yourself with useless considerations.

God, you hate having a crush. It’s just so— unpractical. You also hate that you didn’t see that one coming, and that you didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. Usually, you’re pretty good at nipping those kinds of feelings in the bud. Now, you can only wait it out.

With a sigh, you push yourself away from the wall to wander aimlessly around the house. You promised Jin you’d stay until midnight, and you intend to keep that promise. It’s not like there’s anything for you to do, but still, that way you can look like you’re doing something and look a little less weird. Or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

Passing in front of the room with the pool table, you realize that Jungkook is gone. Taehyung is still there, playing with Hoseok, both looking pretty wasted, but Jungkook has vanished. That’s not good. You don’t want him to spring up on you out of nowhere like he did last time. You won’t know how to react if that happens, probably fumble for words, and it will be very unpleasant and very embarrassing for everyone.

You consider finding another closet, then decides against it. There’s just fifteen minutes left until midnight, anyway. That’s not too long. You can just wait it out.

You slowly make your way through the house. No sign of Jungkook anywhere. Maybe he left. Maybe he’s already back to the pool table and you missed him completely. Maybe he’s locked himself in a room with a girl and—

Oh you hate this. You hate feeling jealous. You hate that you have no control over it, you hate that it makes you sad, you hate that you have no right to feel like that. Jungkook isn’t yours. He’s probably even considered you for anything. You should consider yourself lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place.

You do your best to push everything out of your mind. Alcohol has never looked more tempting, but you don’t want the hangover with the morning, so you ignore the inviting bottles of beer and walk out.

It’s freezing — of course it’s freezing, it’s December you idiot, is there anything you can do right tonight — and you shiver, but you stay there. The cold is both numbing and soothing, and while you’re mentally complaining about it, you’re not thinking about anything else, so that’s good.

The door opens and closes behind you, and you guess someone is coming out to smoke. You move over to give them some space, but just as you do that, a jacket falls over your shoulders. You jump at first, and then the warmth makes you sigh in relief.

“You shouldn’t go out without a coat,” Jungkook says, because of course it’s him.

“I feel that you’ve been scolding me a lot recently,” you chuckle, glancing up at him.

He pouts, buries his hands in his pockets. He’s obviously cold as well, but at least his shirt covers his arms.

It also hugs his muscles real nice, but that’s besides the point.

“That’s because you make very poor decisions,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “You have to realize that.”

“You’re right. I could have taken my coat outside.”

“You know that walking back all alone in the middle of the night is way worse,” he protests, and then you laugh, because that’s exactly what you wanted, and he goes quiet for a second. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles, looking away from you again.

“I’m not,” you say, and you take a step in his direction so you can bump your shoulder against his. “You shouldn’t worry that much, but I think it’s nice that you do. I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“That worked really well,” he says, and he sounds surprised about it. You wonder if it’s because he usually doesn’t get angry for stuff, but you can’t tell for sure. “Hey, you—”

People start shouting numbers inside, and you turn around to look at them.

“It’s midnight,” you say.

“Five!”

You look up at Jungkook. He’s significantly taller than you. Not as much as Namjoon, but still.

“Four!”

Jungkook looks back at you, smiles, and it takes your breath away. His hair looks very good like that, you think absent-mindedly, with the way it falls on either side of his face.

“Three!”

It’s too late to go back inside now. It would definitely be a weird thing to do. Which means you’re here, alone, with Jungkook.

“Two!”

Your eyes flicker to his lips. You wonder what it would be like to kiss them. You haven’t let yourself even consider it before, but right now your brain isn’t functioning all that well. Probably because of how loud your heart is beating in your chest.

“One!”

You look back up and his eyes are wide and focused on you. There’s that same tension in his shoulders as when you first met him, except, back then, he couldn’t look at you, and now it seems that he can’t look away.

“Happy new year!”

You decide you shouldn’t think about your next move. You get on your tiptoes to plant a kiss at the corner of his lips, right at the border between friends and something else, but he leans forward right at that moment, and his hands cup your face, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s like an explosion. You don’t know what you should focus on. How warm he is, how soft and large his hands are, how his lips move against yours, how he tastes, or simply the fact that he’s kissing you, Jungkook is kissing you!

The door slams open, and the two of you move away in a jump.

“Happy new year Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, obviously drunk, soon joined by several other members of the basketball team. If he’s seen what happened, he doesn’t say anything, and you doubt Taehyung would have that kind of control over himself.

Soon, Jungkook is surrounded and they start to drag him back inside. He gives you a brief, apologetic look, then follows them, laughing. You remain there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You take a hesitant step towards the door, only to see a girl planting kisses on his cheeks while he blushes. What gets to you, though, is the arm he’s wrapped around her, the way he’s tracing circles on the naked skin of her shoulder. It makes the gesture look… intimate. Personal.

You let out a brief, bitter laugh, that there is fortunately no one to hear. You feel confused, but mostly, you feel stupid.

Fuck that.

It doesn’t take long for you to drop the jacket onto a chair and find your coat. You wish a happy new year to Namjoon, when you pass by him on your way out, and he looks a little surprised, like he hasn’t heard the shouting. You don’t want to know what he could have been up to.

You’ve kept your end of the bargain, you think as you leave. Jin won’t be able to complain to you. You feel some petty sort of satisfaction when you step outside and find yourself alone alone, finally. You like this. You like being alone. You’ve never asked for anything else.

You give one last look to the party, then vanish into the night. You’re better off on your own anyway.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming,” you say, nonchalantly, as everyone around the table is talking animatedly about a party for the next week-end.

You had hoped it would go unnoticed in the middle of the conversation, but, unfortunately, that doesn’t go as planned. Taehyung turns horrified eyes towards you, Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi all look surprised, and Jungkook… You don’t know how to read him. There’s that surprise, as well, but then he looks down before you can tell anything else. Not that that changes much. He’s barely looked at you today.

You haven’t talked to him since New Year’s Eve. You had other things on your mind, and then he didn’t show up at the library last Wednesday.

“What do you mean, you won’t be coming?” Jin asks. “You always come to parties.”

You shrug. You don’t miss the alarmed looks your friends are exchanging, and you’re sure Namjoon can see through you. Because it’s not like you to do something like that, whatever reason you may give.

“I don’t like them. They’re too loud, and I can’t say that I really enjoy standing alone for half the night.”

“You could stay with us,” Namjoon offers.

“And watch you pick up a girl every time? No thank you,” you reply with a disgusted shiver.

“You could stay with me,” Yoongi says.

You give him a look, and he grimaces, backing down immediately. Okay. He can see why you wouldn’t want that either. Plus he’s pretty sure that Jimin and him are about to get it on after weeks of flirting, so it’s probably not a great idea.

“What about me?” Jin asks. He doesn’t sound as energetic as usual, his voice almost quiet, and you realize that he probably feels bad because of what you said. He knows you come to those parties because of him, so knowing you don’t have fun at all when you’re attending — you understand that he might feel responsible.

“I think I would bore you very quickly,” you chuckle. “You’re not going to get the fun you want with me. But it’s fine, really. I tried it, and now I know it’s not for me. I can just—”

“No,” Taehyung says.

You blink.

“No?”

“I’m taking this personally,” he tells you, looking you dead in the eye. “You’re coming to this party and I’m going to make you enjoy yourself.”

You’ve never seen him so serious, and you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.

“Taehyung,” you say softly when you’re done. “I appreciate that, I do, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, then winces and closes it. You’re not sure what happened there, but he gives Jungkook an offended look.

“I’m sorry,” you add. “I’m sure your parties can be great, but—”

“I get it,” he sighs. “But you owe me.”

You’re not sure why, but fine.

“And you can’t say anything bad about those parties, to anyone. Ever.” In that moment, he looks almost threatening, and you blink, confused. He can’t possibly take it that seriously, can he?

Then he yelps and rubs his leg. He gives Jungkook another annoyed look, but Jungkook doesn’t even look up from his food.

“Leave her alone,” he just mumbles.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t add anything. He does give you a long, pointed glance, though, before muttering under his breath something that sounds a lot like “I won’t let that slander stand,” and you think that’s hilarious too.

When you risk a glance at Jungkook, his arms are folded over his chest, and he looks deep in thought. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes focused on his meal, though he’s not touching it. It’s stupid, but the image of a child that has just been scolded flashes in your mind.

“Jungkook? Is everything alright?”

He jumps at your question, looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes meet, but it’s extremely brief, and your chest tightens. This sucks. You thought the two of you had gotten past that now, and you hate that you lost what you had. It’s not like it’s your fault. He kissed you, and then he bailed on you first chance he got. Why would he do that, why would he risk it, if he was going to react like that afterwards?

“I’m fine,” he says with a tense smile, and you doubt it’s true, but you don’t know what you should ask him to confront him about it. You don’t want to talk about the kiss ever again. You certainly don’t want to do it in front of your friends.

So you jump on the first chance you get to leave the table. You don’t ask yourself if it’s a weird thing to do. It probably is, but fuck it, you’re weird, and everyone else can deal with it. You refuse to subject yourself to something unpleasant longer than absolutely necessary.

Except the looks you get are mostly concerned ones, from Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook does look up as you walk away, eyes following you almost longingly, and then he lets out a long sigh that catches Taehyung’s attention. He doesn’t say anything, but he narrows his eyes at him.

God. He really has to get everything done here, doesn’t he?

At first, you think that this is it. Your— your whatever it was that you had with Jungkook is over. You’ll see him around every now and then, and maybe he’ll give you a polite nod, though it doesn’t look like he would even do that right now, but there won’t be anything else. You’ll go back to being basically strangers, and it will be fine, because really, nothing happened there, right? You had a crush on him, he kissed you once, and then nothing. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

Sure, it makes you a little sad. Sure, you catch yourself looking at him while he’s surrounded by girls who are all so much better for him than you ever were, and it hurts a little. Sure, walking back home alone at night is a little more unpleasant than it used to be, but that’s the thing. It’s only a little. You would almost pat yourself on the back for it. Congrats, (Y/N). You made it out before you got too attached. You probably avoided a world of hurt.

Because you know. You know that if you had gotten in too deep, it would have hurt like hell to not have Jeon Jungkook. And sure, it hurts right now.

But only a little.

You’re good. You’re safe. You know that Namjoon and Yoongi would nod if you told them about it. They understand, in a way a lot of other people don’t. You don’t think that Jin would, for example. He would tell you to take the risk, not understanding that people like Jungkook used to pick you last for their teams when you were in high school, not understanding that as far as you’re concerned, you’ve handled more than enough rejection throughout your life. But Namjoon and Yoongi… They’re definitely more successful than you in matters of the heart, but they would still understand. Not that you’re going to tell them about it, because it’s a stupid story, because there never was anything there, and because you’d feel really dumb talking about how you thought, how you hoped that— You’re not going to tell them anything. At least everything’s okay now.

And then, Jungkook appears at your usual table at the library on a Wednesday afternoon. He drops his bag on the floor and takes a seat next to you. You’re surprised to see him when you look up, too focused on your studies to notice him approaching. He has big, wide doe eyes, and he watches your reaction carefully.

“You’re— This seat isn’t taken?”

You shake your head. No. People rarely come here, and you don’t really study with people. Well, didn’t, you suppose.

“Do you mind if I sit here?“

“The seat’s free. You can take it if you want.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to react. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You never considered that Jungkook would— That he would—

“I, um, I like studying with you. It helps me focus,” he says, eyes flickering away from you. “So, if you don’t mind I’ll— Can I come back here on Wednesdays?”

You want to tell him that you can’t stop him, that he can do whatever the hell he want, but even though it’s on the tip of your tongue, you don’t.

“Of course you can,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks up long enough to flash you a smile, and you know. This isn’t over, and you’re not going to be fine. You’re probably going to feel crushed, sooner than later, and you could have stopped it all right now.

You think about Yoongi and how not like him it is to be doing what he is with Jimin. How he’s taking a risk. How it could oh so easily not have paid off.

It’s going to, of course. You just need to look at Jimin’s eyes when he’s talking to Yoongi to know that. But Jungkook doesn’t look at you like that. Jungkook doesn’t look at you at all.

And yet here you are. Taking that exact same risk.

God. You can be so stupid some times.

Jungkook glances at you quickly while you’re deep in thought, tapping your pencil against your cheek, and a small smile forms on his lips. He’s quick to glance away, because he would hate it if you caught him, of course, but the smile doesn’t fade.

He couldn’t have forced it to do so if he tried.

“You have to come to the next game.”

“Taehyung, hey, nice to see you to, I’m doing fine, I—”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I know you hate basketball and everything that breathes, but—”

“I don’t hate you.”

“—this is really important and— Wait, really? Thank you. I feel that means a lot coming from you.”

“Is that how you see me? I don’t hate everyone, Taehyung.”

“Can you give me a list of people you don’t hate?”

“Well, you, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon…”

“Jungkook?”

“…Sure. Jungkook. Why do you want me to come to the next game?”

“Because we might lose.”

“And I’m supposed to change that how?”

“You owe me, remember?”

“I— Because of the parties? Seriously? I need to sit through hours of you guys running after a ball because I don’t like parties?”

“I would really appreciate it if you could avoid describing basketball as ‘guys running after a ball’.”

“I would really appreciate not having to go watch the game.”

“Don’t you want to support your friends on the team?”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be there. Just— stop that thing you’re doing with your eyebrows. Why are you even doing that?”

“You’re so slow. How are you so slow? I thought you were supposed to be smart!”

“Taehyung…”

“Just be there!”

“I will.”

“You better!”

“Or what, what will you— Taehyung! You can’t just run off like— Well. I guess he could.”

You hadn’t thought sitting through a basketball game could become a more painful experience to you than it already was. As it turns out, you were wrong. It was so much worse when the people you wanted to win were losing. Despite yourself, you found yourself getting invested, standing up and shouting encouragements along with Jin and Namjoon, and protesting loudly when things didn’t go your way.

You were not cut out for this. Not because you still didn’t understand half the rules — you could have by now if you had made the effort of memorizing them — but because of the stress. God, how did your friends handle that regularly? How did the players handle it? You kept looking at Jungkook. You could tell how unhappy he was with the situation, could see the disappointment settling in. He also seemed to get more nervous as time went by, which didn’t help his performance, and his words kept echoing in your mind.

”I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

You’re half way through the game and things are not looking good when Taehyung waves you over. You run to the railway, straining to hear him, and when you finally understand what he’s saying, you regret making any effort at all.

“You can’t possibly be serious!”

But he is.

“You owe me, (Y/N)!”

“I’m already— What’s it even going to do?”

“Trust me on that one, okay?”

You glare at him, but he’s looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes, and there’s nothing you can do against that. You sigh deeply. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest just thinking about what he’s asking you to do. Maybe it’s not such a big deal for him, that sort of stuff, but for you— For you it’s downright insane to even consider.

“Kim Taehyung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, “if this goes bad, I’ll kill you and plant your head on a stick outside of my door to warn my enemies not to underestimate me.”

He has the audacity to shrug at that.

“It won’t go bad.”

You look up. Take a deep breath. And call Jungkook’s name.

The gym is insanely loud, and it takes both you and Taehyung’s efforts, as well as a lot of waving, for Jungkook to notice you. When he does, though, he runs towards you, worry obvious on his face. He’s looking directly at you for once, and the intensity of his stare almost makes you shiver.

“Is everything alright?” he asks when he gets there, eyes scanning you quickly to make sure that you’re okay.

“It’s fine, I just—”

“What are you doing here? You hate basketball. Did something happen?”

You shake your head. You don’t know how you’re supposed to do this, especially when he’s looking so puzzled and when he’s questioning your sanity for showing up at one of his games. You glance over at Taehyung who gives you a decided nod.

Ah. Fuck it.

Leaning over about as far as you can go, you cup Jungkook’s face, and as his expression turns to one of surprise, you kiss him. If people around notice or have a reaction, you can’t tell, because Jungkook pushes himself against you and buries his hand in your hair as he holds you. There’s not much space left for thinking in your mind, instead entirely consumed by thoughts of him. He’s completely sober this time, and you don’t taste alcohol on his tongue. He’s also not going as slow, almost desperately kissing you back, one strong hand supporting you so you don’t fall over, and you just melt.

It takes everything in you to push yourself away. When you do, you’re breathless, and he’s staring at you with eyes even wider than usual. You’re pretty sure Taehyung would want you to give an encouraging speech right now, but you don’t want to do that right now.

“I really don’t care if you’re winning or losing games,” you say instead. “If you’re sad, I’ll be sad with you, but it’s never going to change anything in how I see you. But I’ll be here encouraging you.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight.

“Promise?” he asks, almost childishly.

You’re not sure which part he’s referring to, but they’re all true, so you nod.

“I promise.”

He smiles, and then both him and Taehyung are running back across the field and getting yelled at by their coach, but even from where you’re standing, you can see their smiles.

You guess that means you’re not going to murder Taehyung.

“This is actually insane. How is Jungkook even doing that?” Yoongi asks in disbelief after Jungkook scored extremely impressively yet again, and you fidget in your seat. You’re very happy to see that, though you don’t how you feel about the smug looks Taehyung is sending you, but you don’t want—

“It’s the power of love,” Jin says, nodding like he just gave an essential truth to the meaning of life.

—this. You, very specifically, don’t want this.

“Jin,” you sigh, “there’s no such thing as—”

“Actually,” Namjoon interrupts you, “I think he’s right. The power of love is a thing, and I think this is a perfect demonstration of it.”

You gape at him, in shock. He betrayed you?

“Did you just—”

“Namjoon’s right,” Yoongi nods. “This is how the power of love works. You take love, and you turn it into strength.”

And then, him, Jin and Namjoon high five, and you gasp. Traitors. All of them.

But after that, Jimin says off-handedly “Maybe you should come and kiss me before my next competition” and Yoongi’s brain visibly stops functioning, so you consider yourself avenged.

After the match, you wait for Jungkook outside of the locker room. Jin insisted you should go celebrate on the field, but you had declined. It felt like the situation required something a little more private, so now you’re here, leaning against the wall, looking at your phone so you’ll seem busy, even if there’s nothing on there to occupy yourself.

You’re not the only one there, and that doesn’t help soothing your nerves. There are a lot of girls, all pretty and smiling. It makes you feel like a groupie, and you don’t like it. You’re relieved for a second when the door opens and the team comes out, but it doesn’t last long, because the girls are soon surrounding them. You remain where you were standing, watching the whole thing happen. It takes a few moments before you notice Jungkook’s bun standing out of the group, and it makes you smile.

You catch Taehyung’s eye first, and, after you’ve sent him a glare that you hope was threatening, he pushes Jungkook out of the group. At first, he seems confused, before he finally finds you. You wave at him hesitantly. He blinks a few times, his eyes wide, then walks towards you.

“Hey,” he says when he joins you. He’s towering over you. Usually, you don’t like that, and you’ve complained about having to look up at Namjoon more than once, but you don’t necessarily mind right now.

“Hey,” you reply.

Silence stretches between the two of you as you try to think of something to say. You should have prepared a speech, you know that, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have been able to say it either.

“Taehyung told me he told you to kiss me,” Jungkook blurts out after a while, looking away from you, and you give him a surprised glance. “So, you don’t have to—”

“No, I wanted to kiss you,” you interrupt him, a puzzled frown forming on your face.

Jungkook’s head whips back towards you, and you just stare at him in confusion.

“Do you really think I would have kissed you just because Taehyung asked me to?”

“Well you— you came to the game because he asked you to, right?”

“That’s not the same—”

“Jungkook!” someone from the team calls. “We’re going to grab a bite to celebrate, do you wanna come?”

Jungkook sighs, then gives you a sharp look.

“You wanted to kiss me,” he repeats.

You nod.

“Why?”

You bite your lower lip, and you’re not oblivious to the way his eyes fall to your mouth when you do.

“And I’m the blunt one,” you mumble.

“Sorry, I–”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just— I wanted to kiss you because I like you. Obviously.”

Jungkook swallows, and you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looks over his shoulder at his friends.

“You can go without me!”

There are some protests, but he ignores them to give you his entire attention. It’s… not an unpleasant feeling.

“You disappeared after I kissed you the last time,” he says.

“You left,” you protest immediately. “You kissed me, and then the second your friends arrived, you acted like nothing happened and you left.”

“I didn’t want to— I just— They’re really annoying about that stuff, you know? I thought it would probably be better if I talked to you after— ‘m sorry. I didn’t— didn’t realize it—”

You look at Jungkook, watch him fumbling for words, and it hits you like a ton of bricks, how much you do like him. Those words really don’t do it justice, and maybe you’re not quite ready to talk about love just yet, but you like him so much, so much it makes your heart swell, so much you don’t think what what he’s trying to tell you would change anything to it, and yet what he’s trying to say is exactly what prompts your realization. He didn’t want to hurt you. Wanted this to be private, for just the two of you, wanted to see how you felt about it. And maybe he went the wrong way about it, but it means everything that he was trying.

“Walk me home?” you ask.

Jungkook finally stops his rambling.

“Are you sure?”

Of course, he has to ask that now, after weeks of trying to convince him to let you walk on your own. Still, you smile and nod, and when you start walking side by side, you grab his hand. He freezes temporarily before grinning and squeezing your hand, pulling it into his pocket so you won’t be too cold, because the air of January is chilling.

“Congratulations for the game,” you say after a long, comfortable silence. You had almost forgotten about it.

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I had some help.”

And then, he winks at you, and your heart misses a beat. That’s when you understand something you hadn’t even considered before: if Jungkook stops being shy around you, you’re done for. You’ll be the one constantly flustered.

“So,” you say, slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, “why did you kiss me?”

“Um. Same as you?” Jungkook’s confidence disappears, and he returns to his awkward self, and you see that, as much as you like it, you want him to be comfortable around you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask innocently.

He gives you a horrified look that soon turns to an offended one when he notices you grinning widely.

“You’re so mean,” he says, but he’s smiling too, “you’re the meanest person I know.”

You’re laughing at that point, as you stop in front of your dorm.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I kissed you because I like you.”

It’s funny. You knew that was what he was going to say, knew it was coming, and yet it gets to you all the same.

“With you, I don’t feel like I have to be the school’s star, you know? I can just be— Jungkook. You don’t expect me to be anything else.”

He’s right. You like Jungkook. With his insecurities and his flaws. You don’t want him to perform for you, and you don’t care what he’s doing right and wrong. Just studying maths in the library with him makes you happy.

He eyes your dorm and takes a deep breath.

“I should go,” he says.

You hum.

“Yes, it would be a really bad idea if you came up tonight.”

But you’re not letting go of his hand, and he’s close to you now, close enough that you can feel his breath catching in his throat. It makes you smile.

“You’re so mean,” he repeats.

This time, instead of laughing, you kiss him, and it’s completely different from the two previous times. There is no uncertainty in this kiss, no surprise, no pressure, no fear. It’s perfect. Jungkook’s hand comes to cup your cheek, his lips soft against your own. His long fingers gently stroke your jaw as he keeps the kiss chaste and sweet. It only makes you yearn for more and when he moves away, you can see in his eyes that he wants more as well.

You just don’t think he wants it now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” you ask.

“I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says solemnly, and it rings like a promise, which makes you smile.

When you move away, though, he doesn’t let go of you, and a pouty expression appears on his face before he releases you.

“I— Yeah. You should go.”

“You can come up if you want to, you know?”

He hesitates, rolls his lips together.

“I want to savor this,” he admits to you in a near whisper.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Yes. Good night.”

“Good night.”

You feel light and giddy as you walk through the door. It’s a nice and strange feeling, like you could just start floating any second.

You already can’t wait for the next day.

People are definitely weirded out by your relationship with Jungkook. Or, rather, by Jungkook’s relationship with you. You’re pretty sure most of the people who give you weird looks when you sit next to him and he wraps his arm around you, or when you walk hand in hand, wouldn’t pay attention to you if you went to class naked. But they all know who Jungkook is, and you guess it is weird to see you in conjunction with him.

They could ignore it and consider you mere part of the scenery when he ate with you, you suppose, but it is harder to do now. You’re not too fond of being the center of attention, to be honest. You don’t know how Jungkook does it.

What takes you by surprise the most is people being nice to you. That confuses you to no end, because you know for a fact they don’t care about you, not really, and you cannot fathom what they think they’re going to get out of this. You’re pretty sure there are a girl or two who are doing that to get closer to Jungkook, and some, you think, have decided to be nice to you because they think that if Jungkook likes you, you can’t be a total lost cause.

You don’t like that feeling. Not at all. You don’t like it when you’re going to class, you don’t like it during lunch, and you definitely, definitely do not like it when people rush towards you the second you get to a party.

Yeah, you’re giving Taehyung what he wanted, in the end. He said that both you and Jungkook owed him, because without him you wouldn’t be together, and you eventually gave in.

You thought it would be fine, now that you have someone to spend time with, but you understand with horror that your status has changed now. You’re not invisible anymore. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriendTM. Because of that, you spend much longer in the entrance making small talk than you would have wished to, and you’re stopped a couple of times while you’re desperately looking for your boyfriend to save you from this hell on earth.

You’re not surprised at all to find him playing beer pong with Taehyung and other guys from the team. He hasn’t gotten time to get drunk yet, so he’s quite impressive, but then again, they all are. That’s why they usually end up wasted.

The second he sees you, though, he abandons the game completely, and the smile on his face threatens to make your heart explode in your chest. Some of the guys turn around to look at you, give you a wave or a smile. Taehyung shouts a greeting.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips. He doesn’t like PDA all that much, but he never misses a chance to kiss you, and the thought makes you all giddy.

“Hey. Are you, um, having fun there?”

He shrugs.

“It’s not that bad. Wanna play?” He waits for your expression to turn to one of horror as you try to refuse politely before laughing. “Just kidding. Don’t worry about it.”

You let out a relieved breath. You know you and Jungkook are very different people, and you’re doing your best to take an interest in the things he likes. You’ve been learning the rules of basketball, for example, and though you still don’t believe you get the point, you like the way his eyes shine when you say something right about a game.

But you don’t take part in any of that stuff. Okay, you stop at that field that’s on your way home from the library every now and again, but that doesn’t count. It’s just you and him then, and you feel good and relaxed. You’ve even scored a couple of times now.

“Come on, I want to grab a drink,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, and you follow without protesting.

It’s probably your second mistake of the night: not realizing that getting a drink with and without Jungkook are two very different ordeals. On your way there, you get roped into several conversations. Those are fine. You can’t say you enjoy them, but they’re fine, and it’s not like those people are actually talking to you anyway.

What you genuinely dislike is that, when you’re by the table with the drinks, a girl starts openly flirting with your boyfriend. It’s not subtle, either, with the way she keeps touching his arm and how she laughs at his every word.

For a while, you just stare in disbelief. You know Jungkook is oblivious to that sort of things — probably one more reason why he likes how blunt you are — but you can’t believe her. You wouldn’t necessarily blame the girl for trying, either, if she didn’t know about you. Jungkook’s quite the catch after all, and you understand liking him better than anyone else.

No, it’s the fact that she’s doing it right in front of you, while Jungkook is holding your hand. It feels so— dismissive. So insulting. She’s not exactly saying to your face that she doesn’t take you seriously, but she might as well.

You watch incredulously when she puts her hand on his arm one more time. You don’t know how you’re supposed to handle that, so you just tug on Jungkook’s hand a little awkwardly. You’re pleased by how quickly his attention snaps to you, even while the girl is in the middle of her sentence. It’s a petty sentiment, for sure, but you can’t help it.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “Is it too loud in here?”

“Kind of, but—”

“Let’s find you a quieter place.”

He forgets about the drink he wanted to get, forgets about the girl, who he abandons there unceremoniously, gently pulling you through the room. Next thing you know, he’s carefully closing the doors of the closet he’s found for the two of you behind you.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied with himself. “Better?”

You chuckle at that and, guessing for him in the half-light, you pull him towards you for a kiss. You press your body against his, pushing him against the back of the closet, and a groan forms in his throat. His hands tighten around you, sending shivers through your entire being, and you only lean into him more. You run your fingers over his chest, just to feel him tremble under your touch and he does, hissing with pleasure at the contact.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth. “Was that— was that what you had in mind?”

You shake your head, and he’s close enough to feel it.

“That girl was flirting with you,” you tell him.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

You are.

“So… are you jealous? Because that’s kind of hot.”

You laugh softly. Truth is, you really, really don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, but Jungkook actually sounds happy about the idea.

“You really didn’t notice?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I didn’t. Does that— Did it bother you, that she was doing that?”

“Kind of,” you shrug. “What about you? You’re— cool with that?”

“If it bothers you I don’t like it,” he replies simply, one of his hand leaving your waist to grab yours and squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

That makes you chuckle.

“How didn’t you? She would have made it barely more obvious if she had started undressing herself.”

Jungkook has an awkward laugh, and you can feel his breath on your face. He starts fidgeting, but then you press a kiss right at the corner of his lips, and he calms down, if just a little.

“It’s— You have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

He hesitates a second longer, as though he’s trying to judge your sincerity by looking at you — except, of course, he can barely see a thing in here. You kiss him again, following his jaw, and he finally gives in when you start making your way down his neck.

“When I’m with you, it’s like my vision narrows on you,” he says, voice low. “I know everything and everyone else is still there, but I just think about you. Sorry, it’s really stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say, shaking your head, wondering if he can feel your heart beating stupidly fast in your chest, all because his words make you feel like nothing else ever has before. “But I’m— I’m kind of boring. That can’t be fun.”

“You’re not boring,” he protests. “You listen to people, even when you don’t look like it. You always look like you have a thousand things on your mind but you always make time for your friends, and when you’re studying here, you play with your hair.” He twirls a lock of your hair around one of his fingers before releasing it, as if to demonstrate. “You’re a very, very interesting person to look at.”

The only thing you can do is stay there, frozen in his arms, after he’s said that. You may be blunt, but Jungkook is honest. Devastatingly so. His vulnerability always shatters the walls that you’ve built around yourself, and you still don’t know how to react when that happens.

So you push yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again, except this time it’s slow and gentle and you’re trying to put everything he means to you into it. The tip of your fingers are on his cheeks, your mouth barely moving against his, soft noises filling the closet. Jungkook remains still, letting you in complete control, like he’s afraid he could break you if he moved.

“Thank you,” you whisper when you pull away from him.

“For what?” he asks, breathless.

“For being here with me tonight, and for coming with me at that first party.”

“Of course. Any time.”

He lets himself fall to the floor, taking you down with him and keeping you into his lap once he’s done that. You rest your head against his chest. You hear the noises of the party still going on outside, but Jungkook is your island of peace in the middle of the chaos.

“I think I’m going to stop basketball,” Jungkook blurts out without a warning, and you look at him, surprised.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Really. I just— I don’t want to be doing that anymore.”

You think about it for a few seconds, then nod.

“You probably should stop, in that case.”

“People are… not going to be happy about it.”

“I’m sure Taehyung won’t be mad at you. Well, not for too long.”

He laughs softly, but his hold on you doesn’t relax, and you know that this was hard for him to even consider. You know it’s a terrifying decision to take, too.

“Thank you,” he says. “For being here with me tonight, too.”

“Any time.”

The truth is, you wouldn’t give that moment away for anything in the world, and something tells you Jungkook wouldn’t either. It’s not ideal, it’s not perfect, but you don’t believe there is such a thing, and you’re happy to satisfy yourself with the imperfect.

But any moment you can spend in Jungkook is as close to perfect as can be.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, and you think that he might feels the same way, which almost makes you burst with happiness.

“And I love you,” you whisper back.

Not perfect, perhaps. But close enough.

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