#<- actual conversation I once had. not too long ago. actually it was last year. I am 22 she's 56.

[skyahri]

How They Found Out |Naruto Boys X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, Kakashi Hatake

Summary: How your relationship ended up being revealed.

Warnings: Naruto's is short af because he's an open book. Deal with it. NSFW themes. Mentions of sex and being caught. Part Two

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

You'd been together for about a year at this point. In the beginning, you'd agreed to keep it hush-hush until you'd figured things out.

Before you knew it, it'd been more than six months since your first date, and it was still secret. You enjoyed the privacy of it, but didn't enjoy hiding things from your friends.

So you decided to stop actively keeping it a secret and instead allow things to come out naturally.

But that was six months ago and still no one knew.

Sasuke hated PDA and no one had asked either of you about relationship stuff, so it was still quiet.

That is until today.

You two were victims of Narutos' lack of boundaries and awareness.

It was late at night, about 11pm, you were in Sasuke's apartment.

He was drilling into you, his hands holding down your legs and mouth connected to your neck.

You were too busy enjoying the all encompassing feeling of him fucking you, and he was too busy ravaging you to hear Naruto enter the front door.

Suddenly, the bedroom door swings open. Narutos face very quickly goes from his usual happy-go-lucky to a horrified, dramatic look.

Sasuke is quick to cover you with the sheets before he yells at Naruto to get the Hell out.

Naruto is already way ahead of him, bolting straight out the front door and to God knows where.

After that, it wasn't long before the whole village knew. Honestly, once Gai found out, there was no one who didn't know.

Naruto Uzumaki

Find out? Ha! There is no finding out because he immediately told anyone and everyone the second you agreed to a date.

If he did somehow manage to keep it quiet, it really wouldn't be long until it got out.

Hes just so... excited to be with you.

He likes showing you off like a prize. He likes going on dates and holding your hand and loudly proclaiming that you're his.

You don't mind, of course.

Shikamaru Nara

You two lay around together most days. A while back, you shared a kiss, and it very VERY slowly escalated from there.

It was almost six months before you actually had sex.

Mostly because he'd somehow rationalized kissing was "just something you guys did" and didn't require any extra thought.

The sex was amazing. Slow and passionate, just like you'd expect from the lazy Nara.

And so things continued on like that. A relationship had formed, but it was never something either of you talked about.

You liked his parents and they liked you. You'd help his mom with dinner some nights and played Shogi with Shikaku. They didn't question your relationship either.

Things stayed on the down low for almost eighteen months before someone finally brought up something regarding his romantic life.

"So, Shikamaru, who was your first kiss?" Choji asked one night in the bath house.

The question caught him off guard since he wasn't usually included in these types of conversations. (They mostly assumed he wasn't interested in women, or something like that.)

"Hm? Oh, Y/N."

Cue the silence. Then total chaos.

"What?? When was this?" Kiba asked.

"I don't know... sometime around the solstice last year."

That sparked a lot of questions from his friends, only some of which he'd answered.

The guys relayed all the information to the girls the next day, where they then went and hounded you for answers.

Despite all of your friends knowing about your relationship, nothing changed between you and Shikamaru.

You just stayed... whatever it is you were.

Kakashi Hatake

Gai, Kurenai, and Iruka all had their suspicions about you two but had nothing to back it up. It's been years at this point, yet they still come up empty-handed.

That is, until Kakashi’s students decided they were interested in his love life, and began to poke around.

It's after the war; Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke are fully grown adults, but something is just so tempting about reverting to their youthful days of trying to spy on their sensei.

Kakashi is all for it, partially because he's glad his students are getting along again, and partially because he's grown tired of keeping secrets.

This is something he discusses with you, and as he predicted, you're completely on board.

You gradually make yourself seen with Kakashi over the next week- leaving the Hokage tower with him, getting dinner with him, and even allowing him to walk you to his apartment.

The kids watch all of this happen, but there's no evidence that actually proves anything, just like Gai sensei had told them in the beginning.

So they continue to stalk you two around the village. They're better at it than when they were little, but it's still pretty easy to spot them.

At the end of the week, when you're sure all three of them are watching, Kakashi kisses you in front of your front door.

You watch as they all zip away, surely off to meet up or possibly report back to your friends.

You and Kakashi can only laugh.

[princessbrunette]

basketball!rafe knew he needed you the moment he set eyes on you once more in that hotel bar.

personally, you thought he might’ve been a nobody on first glance. a really handsome nobody, so he couldn’t have actually been a nobody — but it was the intrigue that drew you in regardless. to set the scene, you didn’t have to go far to find him, no — this was the fanciest hotel in your hometown and you were there alone. something about getting all dressed up and then your friends cancelling last minute, it didn’t matter — it felt like so long ago that you’d forgotten all about it. all you remember was seeing the handsome nobody in a t-shirt and a cap strolling up to the bar.

it was only after doing a double take, you realised the nobody was rafe cameron.

now you’d already known rafe from the obx. distantly, of course — a couple of parties here and there, some lingering glances when you were convinced he was a fuck boy. he was apparently a little unhinged back in the day, but after his dad died he fixed his shit and went pro with basketball, making it big. like mentioned, you weren’t friends, merely acquaintances with the boy a couple of years your senior— but he’d always been someone you saw get their shit together and think, you know what? good for him i guess.

now rafe remembers his history with you differently. apparently, he used to shoot hoops with your older brother in your backyard with a few other friends back when they were younger. still a casual hobby for rafe, and playing it anywhere else but a kook’s backyard might’ve looked too poguey for him to be caught partaking in. at the end of the day, golf was meant to be his sport. it was fitting and low maintenance. basketball took the cake everytime however— helping him mentally in more ways than anyone could imagine.

anyway, he remembers you — a lot younger than you are now, flip flops slapping along the patio as you arrive on destination — mouthing off to your big brother about bouncing the ball too loudly off your wall or spending all the money your mother had left for pizza on the counter. you were this tiny mouthy weapon, even having the infamous rafe cameron snickering down at his shoes as your brother whined back at you, trying to shoo you back inside. he recalls even catching a couple of strays, your shrill youthful voice referring to the eldest cameron as a ‘lanky meathead’.

“jesus, you gotta keep your sisters mouth in check dude. gonna grow up n’get her in trouble n’shit.” he’d shake his head as you’d waddle back inside, bouncing the ball and shooting. after that it was just parties as you grew up, seeing a familiar pretty face through a coked out haze and thinking ‘who’s that again?’ in passing or overhearing you talking to your friends, still carrying that same slick mouth that you only got away with because you were so hot.

only now, he’s staring across this dimly lit hotel bar, the first time in a while that he’d been back in his hometown and there you are — staring back at him, a face he’d never forget except you’re all grown up now— practically spilling out that slinky little dress and acting as a magnet, his feet dragging him over to you before his drink had even arrived from the bartender.

not even five minutes into conversation and it’s abundantly clear that you’re still that spoiled little cheerleader he knew once upon a time, only this time you’re tilting your head to the side with your brows furrowed in confusion that bordered on disinterest when he tried to explain what happened in his most recent game. you weren’t here to talk about that and it showed, leaning over your margarita to adjust his expensive looking chain, pulling it to sit above his tshirt instead of tucked beneath, cutting him off to question “so you knew my brother, right?” he liked that directness about you. the fact you kinda seemed like a bitch. it was a challenge, the urge to tame and rough someone up still very much sat at the surface of his wants and desires.

once a spoiled brat — always a spoiled brat, only now you’re his spoiled brat six months later, clinging to his arm and digging your manicure into his bicep with a whine as a silent command for him to magically vanish any of the surrounding paparazzi outside the airport.

“get rid of them.” you eventually mewl, in a demanding way that represented the physical embodiment of you stomping your pedicured foot.

“you think i fuckin’ want them here?” he sighs, no stranger to your ridiculous requests. that’s what was so intoxicating about your relationship — yes you were a little bitch sometimes, but he learnt how was best to put you in your place. most of the time you were happy, fucked and fed with racks upon racks sat in your expensive handbag, clinging to him and tottering along at his side in heels that cost an arm and a leg— but the times you were snarking up at him, telling him to ‘shut the fuck up’ he was more than happy to grab your throat and ask “the fuck are you talking to like that, huh?” which oddly would cause a smile to emerge on your face and the attitude to melt off you for an hour or so.

that being said, you kept him in check too. now rafe wasn’t like he always was — unhinged, explosive and overall angry at the world. no, he had an access to therapy now and basketball worked for a good outlet of his frustrations, all whilst opening up a new world for him to get his fresh start away from all that family bullshit he had to put up with a while back (cut them all off, minus wheezie who he sends money to every month and facetimes to talk shit.) that being said — he would be the one to catch an attitude out of the blue sometimes, which was often remedied by a sharp eyebrow raise from you, a dramatic head swivel and a “you better fucking talk to me nice, rafe cameron. not one of your fucking fan girls.”

with a tongue in his cheek, he’ll shake his head and drop the whole thing — but not without saying “y’know you run your mouth like you’re six foot four with two pistols tucked sometimes. shit.”

life outside of your relationship with rafe became a dream all because of him. quickly, as rafe skyrockets to success in the basketball world, you’re skyrocketing to being the top pinterest muse— starring in every girls ‘future manifestation’ moodboard with snaps of you courtside in your pretty little outfits cheering on your boyfriend. you were glammed to the nines at every game, because you knew you’d end up on that big screen one way or another.

when travelling with rafe for his tournaments, you’d get the princess treatment you deserved and that was a promise. designer shoes, designer bags, steak meals that cost the same as your house back home and you were not poor by any stretch of the word. he liked to flaunt you, flaunt his success. he was the man now, like he’d always wanted to be — and effortlessly so, not the charade he was putting on back at tanny hill throwing those parties whilst suffering on the sly. no, he had everything now— and was happy to share that with you. you didn’t have to do much to gain this treatment, no. holding him down was enough, but he’d be happy to accept your payment of gratitude in having his cock wedged down your throat in the limo back to the hotel, ending the night on your back with your ankles on his shoulders and that same chain you fiddled with when you first reunited swinging in your face.

it was no secret that the two of you fucked. it made up a good 60% of your free time together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. rafe could still get very frustrated — with his manager, with his teammates, with people from his past cropping up, even with the general public who had opinions on his playing — and with that, what better way to pound out some frustrations then by bending you over a balcony in a foreign country? rafe had a good team behind him, and luckily so — because it wouldn’t be the first time a hotel had attempted to get the two of you blacklisted for causing too much of a noise disturbance, notes pinned to your door found in the morning reading ‘Dear guests, whilst we are thrilled that you are enjoying our hotel, we please ask that you keep it down for the sake of the other guests. To remind you, other guests do not need to hear your lovemaking through the night! If this continues throughout your stay you will be asked to leave.’

your basketball player boyfriend would pluck the note off the door the next morning when you’re leaving together for the day, your sleepy self tucked under the arm of his hoodie covering his jersey as he scoffs, handing it your way carelessly. “pussies. they can’t do shit about it.”

unstoppably so, despite your hate for gossip past being in high school the notes would turn to blind items as rafe truly came into the public eye. you couldn’t scroll three videos on tiktok without hearing ‘this north carolina basketball player and hometown it girl may have come into hot water again at this famous vegas hotel after making sure their wall neighbours heard the ins and outs of their passion — april 27th, crazy days and nights.’ that, or the blogosphere getting ahold of the blurry and ambiguous paparazzi shots taken of you supposedly ‘getting it on’ on the beach.

unfortunately, this public knowledge that the two of you were real fuckers was not enough for twitter, which resulted in your first leaked video.

rafe should have known to be careful when the two of you in a lustful haze filmed an amateur tape the day before you had to fly home for a little while, the basketball player knowing he’d miss being in it and needed some material to work off whilst you were gone.

the video was 1 minute and 49 seconds of pure glory. filmed on landscape with an outstretched arm rafe captures you, whining and mewling as you roll your hips on his lap, bouncing on his cock as he watches the two of you through the screen, swollen lips parting and tongue flattening to catch your nipple as you do so. he grips your ass hungrily, aiding you on fucking down on him before delivering a firm smack to your ass that makes you jolt, only unlatching his mouth from your tit to grumble out “s’what i’m fuckin’ talking about baby. who’s your daddy, huh?” looking up at you from your needy spread out position.

you still recall the way your heart dropped into your ass seeing your name along side rafes in the trending tab, following by the words ‘leaked video’.

your legal teams were all over it instantly, working hard to get it shut down off every site it had been reuploaded and desperately attempting to track down whoever had managed to get into your boyfriends cloud to expose it— a couple weeks of watching paparazzi shots of rafe taking calls outside buildings, yelling down the phone and flipping off the cameras in moments of frustration and stress — for him to then be on the phone to you from a hotel room later that night, talking you down as you cry like a baby and complain.

“i know, i know alright i’m workin’ on it. gonna get that shit wiped from the net i can promise you that now, i got the guy who can make it happen for me. but for now, look y’know there’s — there’s nothin’ i can do alright, i can’t make people fuckin’… unsee that shit unfortunately just be glad you look so sexy in the video cause — okay, shit, the hell are you yelling for? m’just tryna help—”

after a while it does infact die down, and the video can no longer be found — yes, even on the shitty pop up porn sites that had reposted it with twelve watermarks in the worst quality. however, it didn’t stop jaded basketball fans from bringing it up any chance they got — getting in heated debates online and using it as an insult to the cameron boys playing skills. god forbid a rafe fan would speak up for him after a particularly poor game, his mentions getting filled with nothing but a screenshot of your boyfriend with your titty in his mouth.

though it had faded, the two of you learned that there was no way around it than to humour it — your boyfriend barely addressing the tape by quoting it in his instagram caption after one of his big wins, the post of him grinning on the court with his trophy tilted ‘who’s your daddy, huh?’ which of course, sent twitter into a spiral.

[heesdreamer]

Forgotten Consequences

PAIRING ➩ jake x reader (bsfs little brother au)

SUMMARY ➩ Your bestfriends little brother comes back from Australia and catches your attention despite knowing the consequences

WARNINGS ➩ ages aren’t specified but reader is a few years older than Jake and considers him “barely an adult”, RLLY ROUGH SM*T, like no joke it’s rough be warned, consent is there even though reader says no (she def wants it!), d*ddy is used sorry lol… this is straight up p*rn so there’s your warning. Jake is rough and borders obsessive

WC ➩ 5.7k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Not exactly pleased my return to the writing world is basically PWP lol but here it is… there’s a larger story here I’m considering writing so lmk if you’re interested. Sorry to keep you guys missing me, take this as an apology piece

“Your brother is a lot taller than I remember him being Chaeyoung.”

You briefly glanced over to the side once you heard Lily’s voice start to whisper, seeing her leaning into the other girls side as she tried to be as discreet as possible.

Both of them were staring out at something in the yard and you followed their gaze until you landed on Jake standing in the corner, picking up something off of the snack table and looking as bored as you felt at this ridiculous party.

“If you hook up with my little brother I’ll actually kill you.” Chaeyoung’s voice was flat and deadly serious but her face didn’t show any actual signs of caring about the conversation, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink before looking away and letting Lily lay on her shoulder.

Your eyebrow raised slightly at the interaction before your gaze was floating back over to the boy instinctively.

He hadn’t been home from the dance school in Australia long and this was only your second time seeing him since. You’d grown up together but you’d never paid him much mind outside of when Chaeyoung gave him funny makeovers and made him dance to girl group songs with you and your friends. Other than that he wasn’t necessarily somebody on your radar.

It was impossible to not notice the difference in him now.

Mainly the fact he was almost double the size he had been when he left, clearly hitting puberty now and apparently the gym considering how large his shoulders looked underneath the washed out black hoodie he was wearing.

He’d obviously gotten a new sense of style in his time away too and it was one that you were almost annoyingly attracted to. His hair was longer and stuck in his face most the time, earbuds peaking out from behind the dark strands whenever he pushed it back with his large hand and you could’ve sworn you’d posted the shoes he was currently wearing on your Instagram story a few months ago.

You watched him as he started to make his way back inside, completely ignoring the party going on around him and not even sparing a glance at the people in his backyard and living room.

When he was younger, he always wanted to be involved, especially when it had to do with Chaeyoung and your friends. You remember seeing her send him back up to his room dozens of times when he tried to hang out with you guys, always greeting you and the others enthusiastically.

A frown was forming on your face at his indifferent attitude before you were glancing back at your friends, glad to see they were lost in their own conversation and not noticing the way your eyes had been locked on your bestfriends little brother for the better part of the last ten minutes.

They were so distracted that they also didn’t notice the way you were scooting off of the outdoor bench, adjusting your skirt and balancing yourself slightly before you were heading inside and following the path you’d seen the younger boy taking. You were a bit thrown off when you entered the house again, the atmosphere a lot more intense and dizzying than the outside partygoers had been.

But you knew Jake wouldn’t have stuck around this type of environment long so you pushed your way through the crowd and continued on your way upstairs to where you knew he’d be, raising your fist and knocking on his door before you thought twice about it.

You froze up slightly at the speed in which he swung open his bedroom door, a heavy glare set on his face and you could hear music coming from deeper in the room, having seemingly abandoned his headphones. His eyes widened for just a second when he realized it was you in the hallway before he was forcing on an expression of indifference.

“Y/N? Whats up?” He was asking but his tone was lazy like he didn’t care, luckily you knew better and could clearly read the curiosity in his eyes.

You ignored his question and pushed into the room, taking a deep breath once inside before turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. He was sighing and closing the door behind you, leaning against it for a second once he realized what your expression was directed towards.

“You smoke?” You were finally speaking and he tensed at the sound of your voice, looking way more intimidating with the way he was lazily leaned against his door and accidentally trapping you inside the room. You took a seat on his bed and watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.

You didn’t necessarily need one considering you were now noticing how lazy his eyes were, gaze low and hazy as he stared at you sitting on his bed and the corner of his lips turned up into a half smirk at your stern voice and scolding demeanor.

“You gonna tell on me Y/N?” His tone was teasing now and you kept watching him as he pushed off the door, crossing the room until he was flopping back into his bed.

Luckily he kept some distance between the two of you, sitting up so his back was propped up on his headboard and his knee was pointed towards the ceiling. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed but you turned your body so you could face him better, adjusting your skirt with the movement. You took one final glance towards the door, eyes falling down to the turned lock on the knob.

“I’m sure I could be convinced to not tell.” You were responding to him slowly, keeping your voice light so he knew you weren’t serious. His eyes darkened a touch but you continued on with your light teasing. “Maybe if you were open to sharing.”

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up in Jake Sim’s bedroom smoking weed with him, sitting fully on his bed now with your legs crossed underneath you and grazing fingers every time he passed the bowl over in your direction.

You kept picturing Chaeyoung walking into the room, seeing the way you were looking at him every time he was breathing smoke outwards into the air. You wondered if she’d care, wondered if she’d realize where your mind had gone and then you’d shift on the bed and feel the tension in the room and know there was no way she wouldn’t suffocate in it.

He was watching you now in a way that you knew was past the line of friendly, miles past the line of being your bestfriends younger brother, and for the first time since entering his room you got nervous. So nervous that you inhaled wrong and the smoke traveled to a tighter part of your chest, sending you lurching forward in a rough cough as you patted your torso a couple times to try and clear your airways.

Jake was chuckling at your amateurish smoking skills and you sent him a glare as another cough ripped through you, moving your hand to send a soft punch towards his knee for his teasing.

“Wanna know a better way to get the smoke down?” His voice was low, lower than it already was and you remember being frozen the first time you heard him speak when he originally got back, deep and silky as he muttered a halfhearted greeting in your direction.

You gave him a curious look even though you already had an idea of where this was heading, wondering how far he was planning to take this. You only responded with a soft nod now that your coughs had died down and left your throat with a burning sensation, worsening when a gasp ripped through you at the feeling of him wrapping his hands underneath your knees and tugging you closer on the bed.

He moved you completely effortlessly and your eyes were wide and panicked, still sitting with your legs crossed but now you were directly in front of him and your knees were bumping into one of his, his other leg stretch out along your side and effectively forming a cage around you.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Your warning was coming out far less stern than you’d hoped it would, voice weak and almost teasing again despite how serious you were.

His eyebrow cocked at this and you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say considering the challenging glint forming in his eye now. He was swaying forward so his face was close to yours, way too close considering you felt his nose graze you for just a second before he was pulling back so he could stare down at your tense features.

“Keep your mouth open.” He was speaking suddenly and you could feel his breath on your lips, his tone light but commanding enough that for some reason you were immediately nodding your head and parting your lips for him.

He wasn’t wasting any time, sitting up enough so he could light the bowl once more and inhale it deep, holding it there in his chest easily for a few seconds before he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss but it was enough for your eyes to flutter closed, leaning forward to press tighter against him but still not enough to feel his mouth completely on yours.

It was completely sensual, the way he was breathing out the smoke into your mouth from his own, almost suffocating as you inhaled a shaky breath softly and swayed further against him to try to avoid letting it escape.

“Breathe it in.” He was directing you again now that the smoke was out of his mouth and inside yours, not bothering to lean back and give you space as he started to speak and you could feel his lip brushing against yours for just a second. “C‘mon hold it for me. You can take it deeper than that.”

Your eyes were widening in surprise at his suggestive words, letting the smoke out before you were planning to and sitting up straight to try and put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem bothered at all by your reaction and for a second you wondered if you had just misheard him, let your own guilty thoughts and insecurities take his words to mean something besides smoking.

It didn’t help that your stomach was flipping with want now, face reddening and getting warmer as you replayed what he had said in your mind.

“Do it again.” You were requesting it in a whisper and you weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for, judging yourself for secretly hoping he’d repeat his innuendo laced words so you could hear it in his voice again. Instead he was grabbing the bowl and placing it between the two of you, lighting it again and inhaling.

You didn’t have too much time to be disappointed considering he was immediately lowering it and connecting your lips again, not even giving you time to open your mouth to collect the smoke.

He seemed to take matters into his own hands and you felt his tongue pressing against your sealed lips, prying them open so he could tilt his head and funnel the smoke into your throat. For a second you were chasing after his tongue with your own, nearly kissing him fully in a deeper lust fueled high, but he was cupping your jaw briefly and closing your mouth so you were forced to breathe in the smoke.

It was settling deep in your chest and this time you held it for him, looking up at him slightly through your eyelashes with watery eyes and he had a more satisfied expression on his face now that you were listening to him.

“Good girl.” He was humming out the word casually but your mouth parted in surprise, legs instinctively clenching together as you let the smoke filter back out and hit his face instead. The smirk on his face told you that he had definitely noticed your reaction and you were starting to lose all feelings of guilt and hesitation, being replaced with something much more terrible.

Something so intense that you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking forward and pressing your lips against his fully.

He thankfully was immediately reciprocating and you tried not to think about where he learned to kiss this intensely, hands coming up to cup your face and keep you locked against him as you moved together. You’d rocked forward so far that you nearly knocked him over back against the bed, leaning over his lap now as you desperately kissed him deeper and deeper.

It took for his hand sliding down your back, attempting to pull you fully onto his awaiting lap, for you to snap out of it and sit up straight with a small gasp.

Your hand was reaching up to touch your lips and you tried to ignore the fact they were wet from his mouth, looking at him and scanning from his confused eyes down to his own swollen lips that most likely mirrored the state of your own. Your body was lit up with need and it didn’t help that he was still touching you, hand resting on your lower back like he was waiting for you to kiss him again.

“We can’t do this.” You were telling him sternly in a panicked voice, shaking your head desperately to try and make sure he understood and that your point was getting across to him.

His hand was sliding down lower and roughly squeezing, resting on the curve of your ass and sending your hips forward and more onto his. A soft gasp was slipping from your mouth, followed by a breathy whine at the feeling of him hardening and pressing against your front, even more unbearable considering he wasn’t moving his hand and was instead softly groping your behind and rocking you against him.

“But we’re going to.” He was responding to your rejection in a casual tone, sounding more confident than he was pushy and you let out another soft whine as you gave him a bewildered look. “You followed me up here, you came into my room in this tiny little skirt and climbed into my bed because you wanted me to fuck you.”

You were instinctively shaking your head in panicked denial but your hands were going to his shoulders, pulling yourself forward onto his lap fully and mewling softly at the feeling of him completely pressing against you.

He didn’t say anything else as you started to desperately move against him, your head falling forward and landing in the crook of his neck as you lifted yourself up and down slowly so you could feel him under you at every possible angle. His large hands were holding you roughly and lifting you every time you struggled, pushing your skirt up further on your hips so he could feel your bare skin and lace panties.

“Fuck fuck.” You were panting out into his neck and arching your back into him, a shiver rolling down your spine when he was harshly tugging at your underwear so it was pressed painfully against your sensitive clit.

“God, do you always get this wet?” He was finally started to sound affected and you let out an embarrassed sob at his words, hand sliding up the back of his neck until it was tangled in his long hair. You imagined you were already a mess considering how desperate you were feeling, an overwhelming heat mixing with your high and stopping you from thinking about anything other than Jake.

“Let me fuck you baby, let daddy fix this.” He was talking so sweetly in your ear in his low voice.

You were shaking your head again but you already knew your resolve was falling apart, feeling nearly inhuman with how much you longed to be full of something, especially if it was him. You were aching in your panties and the forbidden image of your best friends little brother stuffing you and making the ache go away was nearly making you drool.

“How old are you Jae?” You were gasping out and lifting your head out of his neck to look at his face clearly, fearing his response and knowing you had a right to the fear considering for the first time his eyes flashed with guilt and worry. You were quickly doing the math in your head and gasping again, sitting up even more and stopping your rocking against him. “Oh my god you’re barely legal.”

He suddenly looked really annoyed and you felt bad for getting this far with him, knowing you had no choice but to stop what you were doing and reject the boy before anything more happened.

Messing around with your best friends brother was one thing but doing it while he was just barely an official adult was too much for your conscience, even if you weren’t that much older than him.

He seemed to have a totally different idea than you considering he was scoffing in annoyance before he was pausing and then flipping you completely over, ripping a shriek from you as your back unexpectedly hit the bed and he was left hovering over you. You froze up in shock as he impatiently undid the buttons on your skirt that was still pushed up on your waist, tugging it down and tossing it somewhere across the room.

“Don’t act like you care about how old I am.” He was barely looking at you as he spoke with anger lacing his voice, looking at your nearly bare bottom half for a few seconds before he was glancing up at you to check for your reaction. “Let me eat your pussy.”

You were letting out a loud laugh of disbelief, lacking any humor as you clamped your thighs shut and shook your head. “I mean it Jake, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

His large hands were squeezing your ankles for a second before sliding up your legs softly, your breath getting shakier as he reached your knees and slowly separated your legs. You both could tell you weren’t actually showing any attempt to stop him, not even putting up a fight as he lowered his face closer to your core and you could feel his breath over the wet spot covering your panties.

“It’s wrong that you want my tongue so bad your thighs are soaked.” He was talking in between the kisses he was laying on your skin, getting closer and closer to the thin fabric separating you and the point of no return. “Would be wrong to let you leave my room without my cum in your stomach.”

“Please, you need to stop.” You were breathing it out in a moan once he finally was placing a kiss over your covered core, softly running his tongue along your wetness and humming softly. The vibrations went straight to your clit and your hips rolled off the bed, pushing his face straight against you. “Oh fuck.”

He let out something that sounded almost like a growl before he was pushing your panties to the side and diving into your wet folds, wasting no time in sticking his tongue as deep as he possibly could get it and ignoring the way you nearly screamed and tried to close your legs around his head. He used his free hand to aggressively slam your knee back against the bed, opening you up completely for him and practically making out with your cunt.

It was completely lewd and disgusting, the wet noises filling the room as he ate you out with a level of expertise that almost made your stomach turn with curiosity if it wasn’t for how good he was making you feel.

Your hand was going to his hair to pull him out of your core but plans changed when he was sucking your clit into his mouth softly, instead keeping him locked in place with his long strands between your fingers. He abandoned your sensitive bud to go back to trying to stick his tongue as deep inside you as he could, turning his head so he was pushing into your tight hole and he moaned against you, the vibration nearly pulling another scream from you.

“Please Jake, oh my god please.” You almost thought you were begging for him to stop but you both knew you weren’t, lifting your hips up every time he tried to take a breath in an attempt to keep him buried in your cunt as long as possible.

“Wanna cum on my tongue or my cock baby?” He was lifting his head up to question you and you were thrown off by how easily it rolled off his tongue, how confident he seemed to be in being able to fuck you properly and make you cum with no question. You rarely came from hookups and definitely left unsatisfied more often than not but something about the glare in his eyes made you believe him.

You were apparently taking too long to answer considering he was climbing back on top of you and adjusting you slightly, moving your body like it weighed nothing.

“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this Y/N. Going to show you what a real man feels like inside this slutty little hole.” He was reaching down and rubbing his fingers against you for emphasis, smirking when you let out a shaky breath and your stomach clenched. “Beg for daddy to fuck you baby, let everyone hear how much you want me.”

You were shaking your head and letting out an actual sob now, tears heavy as they rolled down your face and landed on the bed underneath you. He looked completely unaffected by your emotional reaction to the humiliation and pure want you felt for him.

It didn’t matter what he said now and it didn’t matter even if his sister walked into the room and saw him on top of you like this, you’d realized from the second you entered the room that you’d let him do anything to you that he wanted and that fact drove you absolutely insane with guilt and embarrassment. He seemed to know it as much as you did considering he was silent and patient as he waited for you to get ahold of yourself, knowing you’d end up begging for him regardless.

“Please Jake I need you so bad, need you to fuck me baby please.” You were pleading with him through a sob, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to lift your hips to meet his and show him how desperate you were.

His eyes darkened the more you spoke and for the first time since entering his room you felt genuinely anxious, letting out a cry as he swiftly moved his hand up so it was pressing on your throat and restricting your breathing. Your eyes widened at his sudden aggression even though you were beginning to understand your mistake.

“Say it again and say it right or I’ll throw you out of my room with nothing but your dripping cunt.” He was leaning down to spit the words into your ear and you let out an embarrassing whine, another rush of heat running through you. “You like that huh… like when I get rough with you?”

You were nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, the sting of the pressure making more wetness rush out of you as complete desperation took over your mind and left you feeling dizzy and out of it. Out of it enough that your tongue was hanging out of your mouth before you realized it, mouth opening as you stared up at him with watering eyes and heavy eyelashes.

He let off some of the tension around your throat just enough for you to be able to speak in a weak voice.

“Please daddy please give me your spit, I’ll be a good girl I promise.” You were practically sobbing as you begged him and his eyes were basically darkened to pitch black at this point, staring down at you with a hunger you’d never experienced from someone before. “Can do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it.”

Jake aggressively gripped your jaw and tugged your head closer towards his, waiting until you were eagerly sticking your tongue back out for him so he could spit roughly into your mouth. Before you got a chance to swallow it he was chasing after his spit with his own tongue, licking against yours until he was practically in your throat. You hummed softly and bobbed your head so he was even deeper, wanting him inside you in every way humanly possible.

“God you’ve gotta let me fuck you now or I’m going to hurt you.” He was pulling back to speak through gritted teeth, nearly looking pained as he was roughly sitting you up and tugging off the sweater you’d been wearing, leaving you completely bare outside of your panties that were beyond stretched from the way he was holding them.

“Hurt me.” You were begging him for it before you even processed that you wanted it, the imagine of him holding you down and shoving himself so deep inside you that you couldn’t handle the stretch making your stomach tighten with want. “Please Jake hurt me.”

“Don’t even know what you’re fucking begging for, you’re such a slut you don’t even care how I fuck you.” He sounded so angry but you knew he was just as affected as you, tugging you up and back into his lap so you were straddling him again. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before he was letting it go to speak again. “Wanna drag you down to that packed living room and take you in front for everyone there, let everyone watch me stuff you so deep your stomachs bulging.”

You were dizzy now, almost worried you were going to pass out from how overwhelmed you were and he’d barely even touched you so far.

You were desperately rolling your hips into his again and he was surprisingly letting you, guiding you as you bounced in his lap and practically rode him despite the fact he was still fully clothed. The image of you, bouncing on his hard on while practically naked and dripping down your thighs compared to him being fully dressed and composed made you feel even dizzier and you found yourself longing for what he was describing.

“Gonna make me feel so full daddy please, I’m sorry.” You could feel his hardness pressing against you every time you bounced and you were so turned on you couldn’t even find the time to be embarrassed you were probably soaking the fabric of his pants, the time to be humiliated you were calling a boy younger than you daddy.

“Should be fucking sorry.” He was growling out the words again and flipping you over easily so your stomach was on the bed instead, lifting you up by your hips so your ass was perfectly presented for him.

He didn’t hesitate before he was sending a sharp smack to your bare skin, immediately ripping a pained yelp from you that faded off into a desperate whine. You were adjusting yourself so you were pushing your ass towards him more and silently communicating you wanted him to hit you again, sobbing into his bed and pressing your face into the blanket to try to muffle the sounds of your cries.

Thankfully, he was understanding and roughly hitting you again. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength considering how strong he was but he definitely wasn’t going easy on you and you could feel yourself leaking even more at the pain.

“Tell me you’re sorry for never looking my way when I was a kid.” His words were barely being processed by you since you were so dizzy but you cried harder at the sound of his deep voice commanding you. “Sorry for being such a fucking slut but never giving me the chance to fill this pussy up.”

“Only want you to fill me please.” You were being immeasurably too loud but you didn’t even slightly care, completely serious in your desires for him to be inside you no matter who was watching. “M so sorry Jae please, please.”

You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone behind you and you nearly cried with relief, adjusting even more so you were completely presenting your ass and core to him. You wanted him to see how much you belonged to him so he’d have no choice but to fuck you.

He must’ve finished undressing his lower half because you could feel him pressing against you and your back arched at the realization his skin was pressing against yours, a loud whine sounding through the room when you felt his bare cock rubbing against your folds and thighs experimentally. You pushed against him harder and he reached up to squeeze the fat around your hips roughly in annoyance, a silent warning as he groaned softly.

“Gonna stuff you now and you’re going to lay here and take it.” He was grunting as he spoke and you sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his cock caught on your hole, pushing in just enough for you to realize he was a lot thicker than you’d prepared for. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m going to end up in your stomach.”

You arched at his words and whined into his blankets, pushing your hips back against his so he was going deeper inside you. The stretch was knocking the air out of your chest but you nearly cried with how full he was going to make you feel.

“Please daddy please, I’ll be such a good girl for you I promise.” You were pathetically pleading with him and you knew for a fact that if anybody had drunkenly wondered upstairs they could definitely hear you, but you didn’t care about anything other than him in this moment and he was driving you crazy with how slow he was pushing into you.

He was finally losing his control and fucking himself deep inside of you in one go, bottoming out as you both took deep breaths and tried not to lose it before you’d even started.

The sound of him groaning above you was making you even more needy and you were overwhelmed with how much you wanted to keep hearing him make sounds like that, instinctively clenching around his length and feeling the way he was throbbing deep inside you.

You were basically sobbing with pleasure just from his first stroke into you when he pulled out completely, your body reacting intensely to the emptiness as you immediately looked over your shoulder and prepared to beg for him to fuck you again, stopping mid sentence when he was turning you back over on your back so you were able to see him again.

He was slamming himself back into you before you even adjusted to the position and he felt ten times deeper now, a pained grunt falling from your lips as he started to finally actually fuck you.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/N. I thought you were a whore but you feel brand new for me baby.” His facial expression as he spoke through gritted teeth and continued to thrust into you made you dizzy and you desperately reached out to hold his arms to try and ground yourself.

“Just for y-you Jake, only wanna be this full with you.” You were practically delirious as you cried and spoke to him but your words seemed to turn him on more considering he was slamming into you harder, clearly enjoying the level of ownership you were voicing towards him.

You didn’t want to internalize any of the things he said about you not paying attention to him before, knowing if you stopped and considered what he was implying you’d not be able to go through with this.

He was skilled at distracting you considering he was reaching forward to aggressively grab at your wrist, placing your hand against your stomach and pressing down so harshly you grunted in upset as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The lack of understanding didn’t last long considering it took only two more rolls of his hips inside you for you to feel what he was intending, your stomach bulging slightly from his size forcing itself deeper.

“Feel that?” He was rasping and you looked up to meet his gaze for the first time since he entered you, taken back by how dark and deadly his eyes were. “You’re mine now.”

You were nodding quickly in confirmation, not because you agreed with what he was saying necessarily but because of the wave of fear you felt seeing how serious and cold his expression was.

He had managed to already get you shockingly close between the foreplay and rough manhandling and it wasn’t long before you were feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach, only worsening when he was leaning down and catching your mouth in the sloppiest kiss of the night. It was bordering painful and filthy, exactly what you needed to distract you from how wrong this was and exactly what you needed to have you finishing around his length with a sharp inhale into his mouth.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him kissing you even after you’d came, letting him know it was okay to keep fucking himself deeper inside you.

It was just enough to help you forget everything outside of the feeling of him on top of you and you felt drunk with how much you wanted to stay in this moment. You were terrified by how much he seemed worth the consequences when you had him like this, how much you wanted him even when the door was swinging open and a loud shriek was coming from the hallway.

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀

NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for  around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!! 

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.

You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt. 

With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).

So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of. 

It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.

There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.

You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.

The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so. 

One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life. 

Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.” 

You mirror their gesture as well. 

As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is. 

An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case. 

Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor. 

You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time. 

As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.

“Hey,”

You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.

“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.

Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?” 

Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.

“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle. 

“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.

You reciprocate the hug he gives.

“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.

Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.

“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together. 

You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor. 

Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you. 

“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.” 

“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.

Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.” 

“No worries. Anytime.”

When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.

He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.

“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?” 

You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.

Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.” 

Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.

Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.

“When are you off?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”

Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?” 

“Yeah. Later.” 

The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.

“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.

“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.” 

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.” 

Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.” 

You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.

Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago. 

Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.

No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.

You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.

See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case. 

But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.

He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him. 

You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.

Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.

“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously. 

“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate. 

“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu. 

“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.

Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill. 

Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.” 

“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.

“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.” 

“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”

It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.

You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.

You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.

When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions. 

“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers 

Shoot.

You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.

Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there. 

But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake. 

How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!

Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.   

But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already. 

You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu

You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,

“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?” 

“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.

The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.” 

“Wha—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting. 

Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary. 

“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”

It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.

When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text. 

“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you. 

You don’t really know how that makes you feel. 

“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door. 

“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again. 

“I— huh?”

“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.

You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.

“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything. 

Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”  

But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.

You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app. 

A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.

You don’t really know why you’re here. 

It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay. 

So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside. 

Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.

It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird. 

Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.

Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that. 

You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual. 

You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open. 

“Hi.” You smile. 

“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.

“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?” 

You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”

Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”

“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.” 

He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.” 

“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?” 

Jungkook looks at you apologetically.

“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.” 

“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”

He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.” 

“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.” 

Jungkook grins.

“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies. 

“Okay, Anton Ego.”  

You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.

You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon. 

You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him. 

Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.

As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.

It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago. 

You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous. 

It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering. 

You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.

It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little. 

Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.

“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.

A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you. 

Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.” 

You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.

As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.

There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly. 

“__,” Sol calls beside you. 

“Huh?”

“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.

“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.

Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.” 

You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer. 

“Okay. Just text me.” 

You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office. 

Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.

12:10pm. 

Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.

You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.

But then again, he seems to be busy.

With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text. 

You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch? 

Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend. 

You receive a reply a few seconds after. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __  I’d love to

Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins

Oh. Okay. That tracks. 

You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊

You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria. 

When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure. 

You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.

Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.

You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.

For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.

You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.

They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.

“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”

“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”

The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.

“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.

“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”

You nod along to his words.

Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.

“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.

“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.

You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.

It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.

“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.

You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”

“What?”

“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.

“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”

Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.

“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”

“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”

“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.

“Did you document everything?”

Your response comes in a little curt.

“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”

Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.

“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”

When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.

Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”

Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.

He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”

“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.

He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.

“You and your jokes…”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”

You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.

“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”

Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.

Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—

“You can stay at mine for the night.”

You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.

You stare at him right back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He raised his brow.

“I can’t think of reasons right now.”

“You don’t need to think at all.”

You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.

Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.

“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”

Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”

“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.

Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.

There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.

“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.

“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”

You visibly wince at the mention of work.

He’s right and you kind of hate it.

“You’re right…” you say after a while.

“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.

You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”

“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”

You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”

Jungkook visibly stills.

“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”

You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.

“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”

He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.

You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.

Jungkook looks at you.

“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.

You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.

When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.

I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.

It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.

“__?”

You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Do you have clothes in there?”

At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.

With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”

You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”

It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.

When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”

He stops. And then you stop.

You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.

Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.

“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.

You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.

“T-thanks.”

Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.

You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.

Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.

But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.

When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.

It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.

But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.

You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.

When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.

“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.

“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.

You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.

The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.

Why was he naked?!

Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.

The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.

Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.

Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.

You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.

When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.

You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.

“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”

You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

You shake your head vigorously.

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.

“It’s your place.” You reason.

“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.

“But—”

Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.

He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.

You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…

“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”

You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.

When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”

You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?

But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.

“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.

“The temp’s fine.”

He hums and puts down the remote.

“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.

“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”

“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.

When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.

It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.

You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.

You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.

After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.

It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.

When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.

You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.

You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.

Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.

“Hey,”

“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.

When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.

Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.

“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.

From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.

Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.

“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”

He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.

You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.

When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.

“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.

“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”

“It’s okay, just sit there.”

You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.

Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.

“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.

“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.

You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.

“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.

“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”

“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”

“Okay… how about your stuff?”

As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.

You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”

Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

You look right back at him weird.

“You’re not serious.”

“When am I not serious?”

You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.

“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.

“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.

He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.

But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.

So you decide to joke a little.

“Probably not.” You tease.

Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.

“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”

“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”

“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.

It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.

“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”

You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”

“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.

You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.

“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.

“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.

Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”

“I don’t cook.” You point out.

“I already know that.”

You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”

Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”

“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”

“I can cook.” He chuckles.

“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”

He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

You sigh, out of reasons now.

“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”

Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”

“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.

That prompts you to put a frown on your face.

“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”

It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”

It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.

You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate. 

You give him a small salute.

Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast." 

You laugh at his squinted eyes. 

"I was going to say yes, anyway."

"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back. 

You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.

All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.

Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.

You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.

After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.

You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.

But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.

It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.

He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.

One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.

On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.

Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.

After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.

As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.

That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.

Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.

You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.

You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.

Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.

“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.

Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”

You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.

“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”

At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.

“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.

“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”

Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.

He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.

You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.

The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.

At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.

You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.

In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.

Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.

Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.

When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.

Jungkook.

The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.

It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.

When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.

But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)

     — Jungkook.

That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.

He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.

And you did not forget to say that either.

“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.

Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”

Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.

“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.

You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.

Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.

So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.

Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”

You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.

You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.

Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.

Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.

Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.

It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.

“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.

“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.

You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.

You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.

“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.

You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”

“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”

You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.

“What?”

“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.

“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”

Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.

“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”

You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.

When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.

After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.

You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.

“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.

“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.

After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”

“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.

“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.

“The X-Files. You know the show?”

“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.

You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”

“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”

“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.

You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.

“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.

Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.

“Hm?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”

Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”

“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”

“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”

“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”

“I know,” you chuckled.

You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.

Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.

“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.

He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.

You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.

When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.

You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.

There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.

You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.

And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.

You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.

But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

Again.

His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.

It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.

You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.

As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.

He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.

You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.

Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.

Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—

But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.

You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.

Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.

It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.

But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.

There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.

You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.

When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.

It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.

So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hmm…”

At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.

Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.

When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.

He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.

You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.

When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.

“Oh my god!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.

You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!

Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.

He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.

“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.

You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”

You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.

“We slept together.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.

“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.

Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”

“Oh?” You parrot back.

“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”

You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.

It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.

When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?

“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.

You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.

“Six thirty.”

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.

You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.

“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”

“Oh.”

He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.

“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.

“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”

“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.

You failed to do that, obviously.

Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.

After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.

Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.

Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.

“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”

You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”

Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”

That prompts you to laugh.

“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”

He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”

You nod in understanding.

You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.

As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.

“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.

You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.

You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.

“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.

Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”

“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”

“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”

“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”

Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”

Jungkook grins. “A dream.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”

Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.

“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.

A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.

“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”

You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”

Jungkook looks at you briefly.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.

He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”

Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!

“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”

“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”

Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.

“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”

You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”

You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.

“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.

“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”

Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”

You scrunch your face. “Me too.”

And then a beat of silence.

Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.

“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.

You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.

Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.

“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.

“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.

You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”

When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.

“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”

Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”

“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.

Jungkook bursts out in laughter.

“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”

“Are you?” You pout.

Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.

“Alright…”

You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.

“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”

“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”

“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”

Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”

He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.

“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.

You nod your head. His playful smile drops.

“Are you serious?”

You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”

He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.

“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”

You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.

“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”

Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.

“Oh.”

You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.

You grin. “Interesting insight.”

“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.

When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.

Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.

“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”

You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”

You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”

Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.

“How do you know her?”

“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.

Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”

You can’t help but let out a scoff.

“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”

He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”

“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.

It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.

Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.

But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.

“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”

The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.

But of what?

You shake off the idea in your head.

“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.

“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.

You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.

“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.

Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”

You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.

“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”

Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”

“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.

You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”

Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.

“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”

When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.

Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”

“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”

“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.

“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.

“Like all of them?”

“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.

“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”

You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.

Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”

“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”

You try to think about it.

“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”

Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”

You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”

It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.

But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.

But right now, his question feels real.

If he is flirting with you… do you like it?

You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.

Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.

“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.

You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”

He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.

“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.

“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.

“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.

You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.

You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.

“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.

“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.

Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.

It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.

Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?

“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.

That makes them part.

You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.

“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.

Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.

“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.

You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.

And you know Jungkook notices.

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.

His only response is a small, gentle hum.

A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.

You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.

It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.

You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.

When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.

“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.

You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.

It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.

“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”

“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.

“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”

You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I don’t mind.”

You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”

You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”

You giggle against his chest.

“Carry me before I pass out.”

Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”

“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.

“Fine.”

TAGLIST: @mortal-body-timelesssoul @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lachimolalajeon @miniesjams32 @parkinglot-nights @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aznstoner @chuberry22 @tae-hibiscus @jungkooksmytype

note: pls check your account settings if you are enabling ur profile to be tagged.

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[bhaalble]

I like that Last Unicorn quote as much as the next guy but I do always wind up feeling a little detached from analysis that paints Astarion's disapproval as purely envy. Partly because. No one's doing this for Lae'zel for instance even though she has similar disapproval and similar trauma (all she can remember is a hostile physically and emotionally exploitative environment which expected perfect strength and obedience from her or else she would be punished or killed). But also partly because it feels pretty detached from everything he actually has to say about it.

The thing about Astarion is he loathes weakness. He loathes sentiment and he loathes dependence. You can see this when he actually opens his mouth up about the people he disapproves of saving, but also incredibly loudly when he talks about the other companions, as well as his fellow spawn. If Lae'zel submits to Vlaakith he talks scornfully about how some people just come to love their chains. He's confused and put off if Wyll submits to Mizora to save his father. In every conversation with his fellow spawn (at least when hes not actively manipulating them) he's dismissive and harsh, and clearly he's perfectly willing to sacrifice them for the sake of himself.

There's an obvious origin point of those feelings, of course. Cazador's abuse is designed to actively kill off empathy in his spawn, both towards each other and towards victims. The last time Astarion prioritized someone over his own skin he got locked in a tomb for a year. We can see glimpses of it with the other spawn too, how his siblings are (apparently uncompelled at first) willing to drag Astarion back to their master for their freedom, how Petras' first dream of freedom is getting to drain another person dry. Astarion certainly doesn't seem to feel any real sense of solidarity with them, likely because Cazador understands that them building a community is a threat to his authority the way it was to his own master.

I'd also argue its Astarion projecting his own self-loathing outwards. So much of his quest is about his desperate attempt to escape from who he was. He's been given a chance to slip free of the limitations of being a spawn. He clings to that because of course he would. He also instinctively begins to run over everything in his path, because if there's anything he has learned over the past 200 years its that good things can always be taken away unless you make sure to remove any and all possible threats to that scrap of well-being. He's disdainful of people in need of help because they represent who he fears to go back to being! He calls his siblings "poor fools" while refusing to confront the fact that had it not been for the tadpole he would be in exactly their position, forced to cling to the hope that Cazador is telling the truth for once because escape isn't an option either way. He becomes irritated when Tav slows down to help the unfortunate because they represent roadblocks on his own path to safety.

There's an idea in mental health stolen from airplane safety: that you shouldn't help anyone else until your own mask is secure. What they don't tell you, speaking from personal experience at least, is that PTSD, especially for long term trauma, has a way of making you feel like your own mask will never be secure. And while that's scary, and it sucks, and there should be the utmost patience for it: no one is going to realize that mask is secure for you. Eventually you are going to have to accept the fact that you are breathing just fine. Eventually you are also going to have to accept that people asking something of you isn't them endangering you, even if it can sometimes (often) feel like it. It doesn't make you obligated to help them. But it does mean you have to stop reacting to them like a threat, because not 5 minutes ago that was you.

I think the idea that he's only mad because he's jealous is a gratifying fantasy. He didnt feel safe before, but now through your PC and the power of love he'll feel warm and cozy enough to forgive you for not being there to begin with. But I also think Astarion cannot live in a reality where he's never pushed back on. His instinctive self-protective movements are a coping mechanism, yes, but coping mechanisms developed under survival conditions can also be a way of keeping you frozen in your trauma. Outside of the environment they were necessary for, they can even hinder you from growing in the ways you need to grow to move past what happened to you. Sometimes, you need to stop a baby tiefling from getting crazy murdered by a snake because it turns out. That can happen to anybody not just people who are weak and stupid and deserve to die anyways not like me I'm normal-

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 5 | exes to lovers

fully and completely inspired by @emchant3d's divorced dad's post [x] from a few weeks ago bc i did not once stop thinking abt it

tags: modern day, artist!eddie, finance guy!steve, steddie as rich gay divorcees, sort of an accidental parent trap situation

They were too young, Steve thinks in retrospect – married at twenty-three, their daughter born when they were twenty-five, and then divorced before his twenty-seventh birthday.

He gets to think retrospectively because in a few years it’ll be a full decade since the papers for that last bit got signed. Now, Steve is thirty-four and sweating his ass off in a red polo and crisp jeans, the stiflingly hot July sun beating down on him as he scans the perimeter of a crowded playground for a familiar head of curly brown hair – not his nine-year-old. He found Rosalind already, wreaking havoc on the jungle gym. No, he’s looking for his ex (-husband, technically, but Steve usually stops at ex; the -husband part just makes him sad these days).

It’s custody swap day, which is either his favorite or least favorite day of the week depending on who the swap is favoring.

Today it’s favoring him which is why he’s slowly making his way around the edge of a playground in Bushwick, keeping an eye out for his ex, Eddie.

“Steve,” he hears from somewhere behind him. Steve turns towards the sound and sees not that curly head of hair he’d expected. Eddie’s hair is completely buzzed (which, for the record, was not the case last week when Steve dropped Rozzy off with him) and he’s wearing a paint-splattered white t-shirt tucked into old jeans and all that combined is making it reeeally hard for Steve to pretend he’s not crushing hard on the guy he divorced eight years ago.

“Dude,” Steve started, eyeing Eddie’s hair (or lack thereof) as he made his way to the section of fence that Eddie was occupying, “What–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Rozzy already hit me with all the good zingers so you’re too late.”

“No, I don’t –” Steve stopped, “It’s…not a bad look, just…you know. Why the change?”

Eddie looked away.

“Long story,” he replied as Steve remembered (yet again) that he doesn’t get full access to Eddie’s world the way he used to.

Luckily for Steve, Rozzy runs up to them and spares him from having to figure out a response for that.

“We should get pizza,” she says. Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“We should get pizza?” he repeats.

“Please,” she adds, her eyes shining, “At Dad’s? And we play Mario Kart? Dad said I’m getting good at 200!”

“He said that?” Steve asked, and he glances over Rosalind's head to see that Eddie is making a so-so gesture with his hand.

He’s never been all that good at saying no to his daughter (or anyone), so it doesn’t take much more convincing on Rozzy’s part for the three of them to head off in the direction of Eddie’s loft, with a pitstop planned for the pizza shop down the block.

They actually have a nice time.

It’s true that Rozzy is getting better at 200cc – good might be a bit generous, but Steve’s fine with that (he doesn’t know if his ego could handle getting crushed by a fourth-grader).

Just as they’re finishing their second grand prix (the Star Cup, because Rozzy likes the dolphin race), one of the other kids in the building knocks on the door and invites Rozzy over for a sleepover, which Steve agrees to because he remembers the illicit kind of joy in a summertime Monday night sleepover.

Eddie doesn't show Steve the door after Rozzy's gone. Rather, he pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge – an expensive Sémillon he says was given to him by a client.

“So the art biz is still going well, I assume,” Steve comments as Eddie pulls two vintage wine glasses out of a cabinet and pours them each a healthy serving.

Conversation about work manages to sustain them through the first few glasses (Eddie actually remembered that it’s been just over a year since Steve left his dad’s Fortune 1000 for a CFO position at a marketing company that had just graduated from small to midsize status). They work through the second quarter of the bottle talking about Rozzy, and the third vanishes even quicker while Steve spills some of the latest Harrington family drama.

While Eddie is updating him on how Wayne is doing, Steve finds that he isn’t really listening, distracted in the way he can’t help but notice how Eddie’s paint-stained t-shirt is actually more like an undershirt, and a size too small for him, the torso and sleeves tight around lean muscle, and there’s a thin silver chain around his neck and a scruff of facial hair around his jaw, and –

Steve doesn’t immediately realize when Eddie stopped talking. When he does, when his eyes finally unstick themselves from the buzzcut and drop back down to Eddie’s, he sees that Eddie is staring at him too.

Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lip.

“Ask me again why I buzzed my hair,” he tells him.

“Why’d you buzz your hair,” Steve asks, because he’s obedient like that (and because he really does want to know).

“Steve–” Eddie stops, a giggly, wine-induced hiccup of a laugh slipping out before he shakes his head, “An entire can of paint tipped ov–” He cuts himself off with another half-hysterical laugh, barely managing to say, “Spilled on my head,” before he was completely doubled over, and Steve is laughing too because he can totally picture it and because he had a bit more wine than he planned to and this is honestly the first time that he and Eddie have hung out without their daughter in…Steve doesn’t even know how long.

“Steve,” Eddie says again when they finally both recover, and his tone is completely different this time around and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn’t there before and something is happening, something is happening, “Please don’t kill me for saying this, but…fuck, it’s really kinda pathetic how badly I still want it to be you and me.”

Steve thinks he tries to respond, but then he was too busy kissing Eddie to do anything else, too busy scraping fingernails over Eddie’s scalp, too busy choking back a moan as Eddie sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, too busy tugging Eddie’s shirt out of his waistband to shove a hand up underneath and finding that he’s built more solidly than Steve remembers from the last time they touched like this, but something is telling him that’s true about Eddie – true about himself too – in more ways than one.

And if Rosalind comes home the next morning ready to ask how she’s getting back to Daddy’s house only to find that he’s already there, stealing Dad’s mug out of his hand for a sip of coffee when his own is right there…that’s a conversation for another day.

part 2

[bellaxgiornata]

If We're Being Honest [1/2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.8k [Part 2]

Summary: Already having an awful week, you're a bit out of it while at Josie's with your friends, too busy sulking and drinking down your feelings to keep up with conversation. The sight of Matt wandering off with a beautiful woman yet again certainly doesn't help. But when you stay behind by yourself to finish your drink and wallow a bit more, you're surprised when Matt reappears and offers to let you stay the night at his place. Eventually, the night takes a turn you weren't anticipating.

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings (with a twist), delayed comfort, anxious/depressed inebriated Reader

a/n: This is a two part little fic with angst in this first half and the comfort y'all want in the second half. I was craving angst and a twist on the typical confession of feelings fic, so here y'all go! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia

Absently spinning your bottle of beer on the table with one hand, your eyes were fixed on the little droplets of condensation along the side of it. Your chin rested in the palm of your other hand as you watched one of the droplets begin to snake its way down the side of the brown glass, moving as if it was in slow motion. Outside of the bar, the downpour of summer rain battered against the window to your left.

Foggy’s hand loudly and abruptly slapping the table broke through your daze, causing you to jump in your seat. Eyes flying over towards him beside you, you watched as he let out a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back over his shoulders. Karen and Matt both quickly followed after, breaking into a fit of laughter along with him. Meanwhile you sat in your seat with absolutely no idea what had them laughing so hard because you hadn't been paying attention to the conversation for the past few minutes. 

You'd been having a rough week, both emotionally and mentally, and were currently trying your hardest not to sit and wallow in self-pity tonight–but you weren't doing a great job of that so far. Not only had you received a wedding invitation to your cousin's wedding the other day, but last night Marci had asked you to be a bridesmaid at her and Foggy’s upcoming wedding. Which of course you'd said yes to, ecstatic for your friends to finally be getting married and having an actual date set for their big day. But all of that had made you increasingly aware of your own single-ness this week in particular, especially after Karen had spent the first part of tonight gushing about the new guy she'd been seeing. 

You were happy for your friends, honestly. They were amazing people who deserved nothing but the best. You absolutely couldn't wait for all of the wedding festivities coming up that you'd be celebrating with everyone, either–for Marci and Fog's wedding and your cousin. You even thought the guy Karen was seeing sounded like an actual great catch for her for once. 

But you just couldn't help but feel like there was something wrong with you tonight. It had been far too long since you'd last had a date, and even longer than that since you'd been in a relationship. It didn't help that you certainly didn’t feel like you fit in with this group of friends you’d somehow found yourself a part of for the past almost year now. 

It had been by sheer accident that you’d met Foggy and Karen one morning all those months ago. And it was only because the three of you had had a coffee mishap at a coffee shop near the office where they worked. It was Foggy who’d chased you out of that shop for the drink you'd accidentally grabbed by mistake. Apparently it had been for his law firm partner Matt, who happened to be very particular about his coffee. They needed to be at the courthouse in time for a court case that morning so he didn't have time to get back in line to reorder the coffee. Having not had a chance to drink from the cup in the time you'd managed to grab it and make your way out the door, you'd readily swapped Matt's drink with your actual coffee that Foggy had grabbed. You’d apologized profusely for the mistake, but you'd formed the opinion that his firm partner sounded like an ass to be that particular about his coffee.

And for the next few mornings before work after that, you kept noticing Karen and Foggy at the same coffee shop. The pair of them were always excited to greet you, jokingly dubbing you the ‘coffee thief’ from that moment forward. It wasn’t long before the morning small talk in the line for coffee eventually led to them inviting you out to this little dive bar at Josie’s where you had finally met him .

Matthew Michael Murdock.

As the laughter subsided at the table, your eyes shifted over to Matt as if they were magnetically drawn to him. There was a broad smile stretched wide across his face, displaying his perfect, white teeth. The adorable, lone dimple in his right cheek was visible tonight just beneath the stubble that was a bit darker and thicker than he usually kept it. His dark hair was partially windswept but now finally dry from the rain that had dampened it earlier. Somehow that had just made his hair look messy in a way that seemed intentional. His tie was partially undone, loose around the collar of his light blue dress shirt; and as usual by the time he’d reached Josie’s, his sleeves had been rolled up exactly two times to reveal those muscular forearms of his covered in that smattering of little dark hairs you’d always longed to touch. 

He looked good– so good. But he always did. 

And of course, you were aware that you weren't the only one who ever noticed that.

The tall brunette you’d caught eyeing Matt all night finally appeared just over his shoulder and you released a sigh, already knowing what was coming next. Matt always attracted attention from beautiful women wherever he went because he was handsome and charismatic and sweet. He was impossible to miss in a room full of people. Which was honestly true of Karen, Marci, and Foggy, too. They were all attractive, successful, and exceptionally well-spoken individuals with big personalities that you couldn’t help but be drawn to.

But not you. You stood out like a painting on a hotel wall wherever you went–common, bland, and not remotely out of the ordinary. 

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt,” the brunette began as she stopped beside the table. Her eyes landed on Matt as she flashed a stunning smile his way. “I couldn't help but keep stealing glances at you all night and I figured I'd finally just say hello.”

Matt turned in his chair towards the woman, a charming smile already prepared on his face for her. “Well I'm flattered,” he told her. “I only wish I could say the same about stealing glances at you in return all night, but well–”

Matt gestured at his red glasses as the woman laughed, the sound itself somehow even perfect and attractive. That dark feeling of jealousy and despair began knotting together, swirling in your gut and mixing with the beers you'd already downed. Movement across the table from you caught your attention and you glanced over, catching the sight of Karen playfully but discreetly rolling her eyes at you and Foggy. Foggy chuckled lightly in response, nodding a little. Your attention returned back to the condensation on your beer bottle, not interested in having a front row seat to watching another one of Matt's hook-ups pan out.

“Would it be alright if I bought you a drink?” you overheard the brunette ask. “I mean, if I'm not interrupting?”

“I can assure you that you’re absolutely not interrupting anything,” Matt told her, already sliding his chair back and rising to his feet. “I think these three have endured my company long enough for this evening anyway, and it isn't often a woman offers to buy me a drink.”

Matt said a quick round of goodbyes to the three of you as that beautiful brunette’s perfect laugh trilled over the sound of the rock music playing on the bar’s speakers. You muttered something back half-heartedly, not even bothering to glance up from your beer. It wasn’t like he’d have noticed anyway.

“Well maybe it’s about that time,” Foggy said, pulling the sleeve of his dress shirt back to check the time on his watch. “Marci had appointments for cake tastings tomorrow morning and I do not want to miss out on that.” 

Across the table, Karen raised her bottle up to her lips, downing the rest of her beer before setting the empty bottle back onto the table. “I might see if Alex wants to stop over tonight, actually,” she told you both. “Since it’s Friday and I don’t need to show up at the office for once on a Saturday morning.”

As both of them began sliding their chairs back, gathering their things from the table, you remained seated. Fingers tapping against the beer bottle, you watched as a droplet of condensation raced another over the curve of the glass. Out of your peripheral, you caught the way both Foggy and Karen’s movements slowed, the two of them exchanging an uncertain look with each other. Then you heard the way Karen said your name softly in question. Eyes shifting upwards, you focused on her on the other side of the table.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked. “You’ve been oddly quiet all night.”

You forced a tired smile onto your face, nodding as you continued to rest your chin in your hand. “I’m fine,” you lied. “Just going to finish my drink before I leave, I think. Been a rough week at work and I just need to relax a little.”

“Do you…want us to stay?” Foggy asked.

You shook your head, releasing the bottle from your grip long enough to wave the pair of them off. “I’m fine drinking by myself, don’t worry about me,” you told him. “Go on. You both have someone to get back to tonight anyway, I’ll be alright.”

Karen hesitated beside the table, her concerned eyes landing back on Foggy still standing next to you. It looked like they were having a silent conversation with each other, but the thought of them staying here to keep you company when you knew there was somewhere they’d rather be–some one who’d they’d rather be with–only made that uncomfortable and sickening feeling of jealousy in your gut worse. 

Forcing that smile back on your face, you sat upright in your chair, ignoring the way the bar around you briefly spun in your vision from the beers you'd drank. Attempting to play the part of being just fine, you hoped that neither of them could see the truth behind the mask you’d thrown on. You just wanted to sulk back for a few minutes and finish your beer while you unhealthily forced yourself to acknowledge the fact that Matt looked far better next to a woman like the one he was currently laughing with at the bar than someone like you. Then you’d go home, throw on your stained and worn pajamas that weren’t remotely sexy, and probably watch a bit of mindless television before going to bed. Alone. Like every other night.

“Alright, well…hopefully you enjoy your drink,” Karen replied hesitantly, still looking uncertain.

“Make sure you call for a ride, too,” Foggy said, pointing a finger at the window beside you. “Still raining cats and dogs out there. You don’t want to step in a poodle–I mean, puddle–on your way home.”

You laughed lightly at his joke, though not as much as you would’ve done any other night. Exchanging goodbyes with both of them afterwards, you sighed in relief when they finally turned and headed towards the exit. Slumping back down in your seat, you focused on the window to your left as you drew your bottle of beer back up to your lips, watching as the rain continued to come down hard. 

Maybe Melissa at work was right. Maybe it was time you tried downloading one of those stupid dating apps, even though the thought of weeding out so many assholes who just wanted sex was the last thing you wanted to do. But maybe it would beat being alone all the time. It wasn’t like you were having any luck trying to meet someone the old fashioned way–in person.

Taking another drink from your beer, your attention returned to Matt's back as he sat at the bar beside the attractive woman. Drinking down a few deep gulps, you wondered what it would be like to ever have his undivided attention like that. To have him throw jokes your way because he was trying to win you over, not because you were just one of his friends. To have his hand linger on your thigh while he spoke to you because he wanted you and he wanted you to know that. Or to have him lean in towards your ear and whisper literally anything to you. 

Swallowing your beer down, you tore your eyes away from the sight of Matt at the bar. He'd never once flirted with you like that, the thought only increasing the lingering pain of jealousy now spreading to your chest, feeling like it was sucking your heart into a blackhole of nothingness. You just weren't good enough were you?

Ducking your head, you tried to hide the emotion on your face even if the only person left at this bar to notice and comment would be Josie herself. Still, you'd rather not be asked to explain why you looked quite so miserable. But it hurt to realize that every single one of your friends had someone else to go home to tonight, and here you were drinking alone. Going home to an empty apartment after.

Figuring it was time you just downed the rest of your drink and headed home, you grabbed your beer and quickly drained the rest of its contents. Maybe being drenched in the summer rain on your walk back home would make you feel something tonight besides the growing ache of loneliness. 

Setting the finished bottle of beer back onto the table, you clumsily pushed your chair back. Rising to your feet, you nearly lost your balance when you slid out of the chair. Your hands darted out, grabbing onto the table to steady yourself for a moment. Maybe you'd drank those beers back faster than you'd realized, clearly a little more buzzed than you'd expected.

“Not a big deal,” you mumbled to yourself, maneuvering around the chair, “I can still manage to walk back inebriated in the rain.”

Slipping your purse from off the back of the chair, you tossed the strap over your head and readjusted it on yourself. Then you pushed the chair forward so as not to trip over it before turning. 

Immediately you stopped when you saw you weren't alone, a surprised gasp coming from you. You would’ve stumbled backwards if it hadn't been for your hand that flew out, grabbing onto the back of the chair you'd just pushed in. Matt was standing at the edge of the table, his cane unfolded and in both of his hands.

“Hey,” he said, his attention clearly fixed on you. “Josie said you were still here by yourself.”

Brows knitting together in confusion at him suddenly appearing over here when he had just been at the bar, you glanced back over to where you'd last seen him. The brunette he'd been talking to had disappeared entirely, no longer sitting on the bar stool. 

“Yeah, I was just…finishing my drink,” you replied, still scanning the bar for the woman. “Weren't you with someone just a minute ago?”

“Well I was,” he answered, “until Josie pointed out how you were sitting here all by yourself after Fog and Karen had already gone home. Had me worried. Are you doing alright?”

Your gaze returned back to him, taking in the look of concern etched across his handsome face. The same look Karen and Foggy had shared tonight. 

“I'm fine,” you said, repeating the same lie. 

Matt's head tilted curiously to the side, a mannerism of his that you always found adorable. Except for right now, because it felt like he was analyzing what you'd said far more closely than your other friends had.

“If you're heading out, I can call you a car,” Matt suggested. “I can even wait with you if you'd like.”

You shook your head, beginning to make your way past him. “I'm fine, Matt,” you told him. “I was just going to walk back.”

“In the rain?” he asked. “I might be blind but I'm not deaf. It's pouring outside. And you've had quite a few drinks tonight, let me just call you a car. You shouldn’t be walking home in that.”

“Maybe I want to take a walk in the rain,” you countered, coming to a stop beside him. “Something wrong with that? It's just rain.”

His brows drew up onto his forehead behind his glasses as he shifted on his feet. “You really want to walk almost two blocks in the pouring rain right now? Stumbling down the sidewalk alone?” he asked. “You sure about that?”

A frown settled onto your face. When he put it like that, no, you sort of didn't. But you also didn't feel like waiting to grab a cab, either. Especially if it meant waiting with Matt and being the cause of further ruining his evening.

“Alright, how about this,” he continued when you hadn’t answered. “You come back and stay at my place tonight. I think we can both manage a walk around the corner in the rain. I'll let you borrow something dry to sleep in and you can take the bed. That way I won't have to worry if you made it home alright and you can still have your walk in the rain.”

As his offer made its way past the alcoholic fog in your brain, your body stiffened. Had Matt really just invited you to stay the night at his place? Because he was worried about you getting home? And he'd walked away from what was clearly going to be an obvious hook-up? For you ?

You could feel your heart beating a little faster in your chest as all these things gradually began to register in your mind. Why would he do that? He’d never invited you to stay at his place before.

“I–” you began.

You could barely find the words to reply, your brain too muddled by the alcohol to think clearly. Was this just an invitation as a friend, or was it something more? 

“Is that a yes?” he questioned. “Because it sounds like the rain has eased up a bit, now would be the perfect time to head out before it downpours again.”

Slowly you nodded, the ‘yes’ coming out of you before you even realized you’d agreed. Because could you really pass up the chance to stay over at Matt’s place? You knew you’d always be left wondering what might’ve happened if you didn’t go. 

His hand extended out towards you, the movement drawing your gaze downwards. It hovered there in the space between both of your bodies, your eyes lingering on it. 

“Should we go then?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, you hesitantly reached your hand out, slipping it with uncertainty into his. But when his fingers curled around your hand in return, you realized that’s what he’d been silently asking. For you to hold his hand as you walked back with him in the rain.

“Probably will make it easier to keep either of us from tripping,” he told you, turning the pair of you around in the bar until you were both facing the exit. “Though I suppose now if one of us falls down, we both do.”

His head turned towards you, a cheeky grin on his mouth directed solely at you. You could feel the way your heart skipped in your chest at the sight, the cold, miserable feeling that you’d been experiencing all night easing its way out of you just a little. 

“So, do you care to lead the way or…?”

Snapping out of your daze staring at him–something you were grateful he couldn’t see–you quickly nodded. “Right, sorry,” you muttered, beginning to lead the pair of you towards the door.

The moment you’d led the pair of you out of Josie’s and out from beneath the little overhang at the entrance, the warm rain had already begun to soak your hair and your clothes. It had felt good though, especially with Matt’s warm, calloused hand wrapped around yours. As you sidestepped a puddle, you found yourself surprised at the unexpected turn that your evening had taken. Though there was still something on your mind and your inebriated brain just couldn’t resist finding out the answer as the pair of you neared the corner of the block.

“So…how much did I ruin your night tonight?” you asked Matt cautiously.

He glanced over his shoulder towards you, his cane tapping along the sidewalk and occasionally splashing up water each time it hit a puddle. Your bottom lip rolled back between your teeth as you began nervously gnawing on it, afraid of his answer.

“You didn’t ruin my night,” he replied easily. “Though I’ve been a bit worried about you. You’ve been quieter more than usual tonight. Is something on your mind?”

Yeah, you , you thought.

But of course, you couldn’t say that aloud.

You shrugged, your gaze dropping to the pavement ahead of you. ��Just feeling a little down on myself, I guess,” you muttered. 

Hearing the words aloud had you cringing as you walked. You hadn't exactly meant to be honest and tell him that. 

“Feeling down on yourself about what, exactly?” he asked.

The pair of you rounded the corner, your blouse already drenched and sticking to your skin. Glancing up at Matt from beneath your lashes beside you, you couldn't help but notice the way his dress shirt was soaked and clinging to his muscular torso. It was physically painful how attractive he was. 

“It's stupid,” you mumbled, focusing back down on the pavement. 

Matt's hand squeezed yours, your heart practically slamming into your ribcage in shock at the gesture. You hoped he didn't notice the way your palm was gradually beginning to dampen with nervous sweat.

“Tell me what's on your mind,” he urged. “You know I won't judge you.”

The pair of you were quickly approaching Matt's apartment building as his words hung in the air between you. It was true though, in all your time knowing Matt he'd never once been mean to you. Never once had he made you feel bad about yourself. If anything he'd always been sweet and supportive, which only made you like him that much more. You sighed, and then suddenly you felt your drunk thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. 

“I feel like I'm not good enough,” you confessed, the words spewing from you. “I haven't had a date in a long time. And then there's Marci and Fog who're getting married soon–and that's great. They're perfect for each other. And Karen, well, she might usually have poor luck with men, but she gets dates left and right. And she's gorgeous and smart so I get it. And then you–” you continued, wincing at the memory of him next to that brunette at Josie’s, his hand on her thigh, “–you could have a new fling for every night of the week in this damn city. But me?” You roughly shook your head, a tear managing to slip out of your eye and camouflaging itself with the drops of rain on your cheeks. “No one looks twice at me. I'm not special and I'm certainly not Karen or Marci. I don't even remember the last time a guy showed up to my place with flowers. It's been a long time since someone actually asked me on a date. And–”

You stopped short, your brain finally catching up and realizing all the things you'd just said aloud. You sucked in a breath as the wave of embarrassment hit you, your mouth promptly closing. How could you have possibly just admitted all that to Matt of all people?

“You know that's not true, right?” Matt said gently, his hand once again squeezing yours. “I'm sure plenty of guys have given you second or third looks. You're an incredibly smart and talented woman and you're being far too hard on yourself.”

You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes as heat burned at your cheeks. But at the sound of your disbelief, Matt's hand gave a sharp pull on yours, drawing you both to a stop in front of his building. 

“Hey,” he said, tugging your hand and pulling you towards himself. “You should stop thinking about yourself like that. Stop being so critical of yourself. You're so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Hearing his kind words, you couldn't bear to look him in the face. Feeling awkward, your gaze fixed down on your wet dress flats. “Easy for you to say,” you muttered, the alcohol once more loosening your tongue, “because you're successful and don't remotely have an issue attracting the opposite sex. It's not like that for the rest of us.”

Matt said your name firmly, the tone of his voice practically commanding you to focus back on him. His expression was serious despite the red glasses he wore obscuring his eyes, making it impossible to see the entirety of his face. His hair was soaked and clinging to his head from the rain, a few droplets streaming down his handsome face as he fixed his attention solely on you. Your hands instantly began to grow clammier under his undivided attention and you hoped he thought it was just from the rain.

“You're an amazing person and some lucky guy is going to come and sweep you off your feet,” he told you. “You'll find him, I can assure you of that.”

As you gazed back at him on the sidewalk, the rain still falling over the pair of you, your buzzed brain tried to understand if there was something else hidden in Matt's words, some other thing that he was trying to tell you. Because just like he'd never invited you to stay at his place, he'd never said anything like that to you before. He'd certainly never looked at you like he currently was before, either. 

“Please try to be kinder to yourself,” Matt nearly begged. “Okay?”

Unsure what to make of his behavior tonight, you nodded slightly. “Okay,” you agreed quietly.

He smiled back at you, the sight nearly knocking you off your feet. It was quickly becoming far too difficult to just stand here trying to look at him as only a friend. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your mouth from blurting out how you felt with that stunning smile on his perfect mouth. Thankfully he continued on towards the entrance of his building, breaking you from your thoughts and leading you into the small lobby and over towards the elevators.

The entire way up to Matt's apartment had been silent after that. You were too busy trying to analyze everything he had been doing and saying tonight to even remotely think of conversation. Because it was supposed to have been that pretty woman at the bar coming up to his apartment tonight, not you. Yet here you were, still holding Matt's hand as he led you down the hallway to his place.

And while this certainly wasn't the first time you'd been here before, it was the first time you'd been here alone at night with him. The thought of staying here overnight in his bed still had your insides buzzing along with the beer you'd downed this evening. 

Was there something more you were missing? Every step closer to his apartment had you feeling like there was.

Matt eventually pulled you to a stop in front of his door, fishing his keys from out of his dress pant pockets. You watched in silence as he unlocked the door, your nerves only growing as you stood there. 

“You can come on in,” Matt told you, swinging his door open and gesturing for you to step inside. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you hesitantly stepped forward and made your way past Matt into the apartment. Your shoulder gently and accidentally brushed against his damp chest as you tried to squeeze past him. Immediately you wrapped your arms over your chest, feeling your heart beat a little harder from the brief touch. His chest was so incredibly solid, you'd never understood how he was so in shape.

Glancing down as you paused in his entryway, you noticed the damp patch you were making on his floor as he shut and locked the door behind you. 

“I'm sorry, I'm dripping water everywhere,” you told Matt. “Do you have a towel or something?”

“How about I grab some dry clothes for you to change into,” he replied, slipping out of his dress shoes. “Then we can worry about the mess we're making.”

As he made his way down the short entryway, you stood awkwardly in place, arms still wrapped around yourself. When Matt reached the end of the little hall, he paused, glancing back at you with a charming smile on his face.

“It's just water, it's fine,” he assured you. “You can come in.”

Slowly you began to make your way into his apartment, cautiously making your way over to the side of his leather couch. Matt once again assured you he would grab some dry clothes for you to change into before disappearing into his bedroom, leaving you alone.

The lights were off in his apartment, but truthfully you didn't even need them. Looking out the window to your right, your eyes landed on the eyesore of a billboard just across the street. It had been awhile since you'd been here at night with your friends and you'd forgotten just how bright it was. Currently it was advertising a nearby hospital, the blue light shining through Matt's windows and coating the room in a navy glow. In a way it was beautiful, but you could absolutely understand why he’d gotten such a great deal on the place. 

“Hopefully these will work,” Matt said.

Tearing your eyes away from the window, your attention returned to Matt as he was leaving his bedroom. But your breath immediately caught in your throat at the unexpected sight of him sauntering his way towards you with some neatly folded clothes in his hands. It felt like you suddenly couldn't breathe as you watched each of his casual steps towards you.

He'd taken his damp shirt off and removed his glasses when he'd gone into his bedroom to grab you some clothes. The sight of which had left you damn near speechless because you'd never seen him shirtless before. It was impossible not to just blankly stare at the sight, taking in all of the defined muscle along his chest along with the girth of his muscular arms. You curiously noted the scars on his chest, but you were too busy trying to control your now violently beating heart at the view before you to think much more of them.

Matthew Murdock looked far too good to actually exist in real life. 

But why hadn't he thrown a shirt on before he'd come out to hand you the clothes? It would’ve taken him barely any time to do so. Had it been intentional that he'd done that? Was it…possible that Matt might’ve been trying to make some sort of move on you tonight? Was that why he’d invited you back here this evening instead of the other woman at the bar?

He stopped just before you, a smile on his face as his eyes fixed somewhere along your chest. You always loved when he took his glasses off around you, but unfortunately it wasn't often. He always seemed far more vulnerable, which was probably why it was a rare sight. But he’d removed them now, and as you watched him, you noticed the faintest twitch to the corner of his eyes. You wondered what that was about as he extended the clothes in his hands out towards you. 

“Here,” he said softly. “Hopefully they're comfortable, but if not, I can always get you a towel to dry off. Though really you can sleep however you're comfortable.” His smile turned cheeky–a smile he didn’t often flash your way–as the corners of his eyes creased. “Not like I can see anything anyway.”

Your fingers tightened around your damp blouse at the implication of his words. Had he just said he didn't care if you slept in nothing? In his bed?

Swallowing hard, your eyes dropped down and focused on the shirt and sweatpants that were neatly folded in his outstretched hands. His clothes. He was offering you his clothes to sleep in. Nervously you unwrapped your arms from over your chest as you took a step towards him, your trembling hands carefully reaching out and accepting the clothing from him.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

Glancing up, you realized how close the pair of you were now standing to each other. Barely any distance was left between you two. Had he even managed to move closer or were you imagining that?

“Of course,” he whispered back.

He was still smiling down at you as you drew the clothes in towards your chest. His head had tilted ever so faintly to the side as you observed him, the heat of his body warming you in your damp clothes. Why hadn’t he moved? Why was he still standing so close? 

A thought struck you as you stood there, your attention turning towards his lips. Was he…wanting to kiss you? No, that couldn’t be it.

…could it?

He had invited you back to his place after all. He’d walked you home with him in the rain hand in hand–which had been his idea. That had been far more intimate than anything the pair of you had ever done before. And now he was letting you stay the night in his bed, offering you his own clothes to change into. Saying such nice things about you. And he was just standing there, gazing down at you in nothing but a pair of damp dress pants because he’d removed his shirt without bothering to put on another one. 

This had to all be intentional, right? He could’ve easily gone home with the brunette from the bar, but he chose you, didn’t he? Maybe what he’d been saying earlier outside the building in the rain had meant something more. Could he have been talking about himself being the guy to come along and sweep you off your feet? Had that been what he’d meant all along?

Hope instantly sparked in your chest at the thought. Everything seemed to make sense, everything seemed to point at the fact that Matt might possibly view you as more than just a friend. So was this your moment then? Your chance to tell Matt how you felt and to hear he felt the same in return? Because he was still just standing there, so close you could kiss him. Why else hadn’t he moved?

Without even thinking–most likely due to the alcohol in your system–you leaned forward and boldly closed the rest of the distance between your mouths. It was a hesitant kiss, your lips ever so gently pressing against Matt’s in an uncertain connection. You couldn’t believe how incredibly soft his were, how warm they felt against your own. Your stomach began somersaulting inside of you because you were kissing Matt. It was everything you’d wanted for almost a year now.

Until he gently but abruptly pulled away from you.

Your eyes fluttered open as you drew back from him, taking in the look of utter confusion on Matt’s face. Panic immediately set in, your hands tightening around the bundle of clothing in your hands. 

“What–what are you doing?” he asked.

“I–I thought–” you stammered, struggling to form a sentence. “Was that–is this not…?”

Matt’s head only tilted further to the side, his dark brows furrowing further together on his forehead until there was a deep crease between them. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your nerves at this point, but you felt on the verge of vomiting now.

What the hell had you just done?

“Did you think I was inviting you here to sleep with you?” he asked in disbelief. He said your name, the sound like a stab to your chest as he shook his head. “I had no intention of that. You’re drunk and you’re my friend. I wanted to make sure you got to somewhere safe tonight. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. That’s not–that’s not what I was doing.”

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, taking a step back from him. “Oh my God, I thought that–that you…”

Your words trailed off, eyes growing wide as the urge to bolt quickly took over you. You could feel the sting of tears burning in your eyes already, absolutely mortified at what you’d done and how you’d wildly misread the entire situation. How could you have been so incredibly stupid?

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, vision blurring from the tears welling up in your eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have–that wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had too much to drink and–and I wasn’t thinking,” you blabbered on. “I absolutely misread things, I just thought that–that maybe you liked me, too and–”

Matt said your name softly, as if he was trying to calm a panicked animal. “You’re my friend,” he told you. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression at all this evening but–”

You practically threw the bundle of clothes back at Matt’s bare chest. His hands flew up, somehow catching them, but the gesture had cut him clean off. That spark of hope that had formed in your chest moments ago quickly sizzled out. A roiling, churning instead grew in your stomach, making you certain that you’d throw up soon if you didn’t get the hell out of here. 

“I need to go,” you blurted.

Turning abruptly, you hurried through Matt’s living room and down the entryway hall. Behind you, you heard him calling your name, but you didn’t dare stop. You couldn’t face him, not after what you’d just idiotically done. Especially not now as the tears were finally falling down your cheeks in hot spurts, embarrassment and rejection both burning inside of you. You just needed to get out of here, needed to get away from this entire horrible situation. You couldn’t believe you’d just gone and kissed him like that.

Your frantic hands fumbled with the lock on his door, but you managed to undo it and wrench it open in a rush. Continuing to ignore him calling after you, you pulled the door shut after yourself before you darted across the hall and straight to the door leading to the stairwell. Throwing it open, you began racing down the stairs as fast as you could, a hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle your pathetic sobs. Your heart slammed away against your ribcage as the tears began to fall faster down your cheeks. As you descended the stairs, your vision blurred from tears and the alcohol you'd drank, causing you to stumble a few times on your way all the way down to the main floor. 

Ignoring the looks from the few people you sprinted past in the lobby, you headed straight towards the building’s exit. Forcefully pushing the doors open, you made your way back out onto the sidewalk and into the rain. A choked sob slipped past your fingers as you continued to hurry down the pavement and back towards your own apartment, your flats quickly becoming soaked as you stepped through a few puddles, splashing water up onto your dress pants. 

You’d just gone and kissed Matt like an absolute idiot. Of course he’d told you that he only saw you as a friend. Why would Matt ever be interested in someone like you? Someone awkward and average, nothing special. 

You’d absolutely ruined that friendship now, too. There was no way in hell you could ever face him again. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive Marci’s wedding months from now. Maybe if you were lucky you could try to ignore him all day. He’d probably be more than happy to do the same after tonight.

“ Why did I kiss him?” you lamented to yourself. “How stupid !”

Your tears continued to fall, mixing with the heavy rain drops pelting your cheeks as you rushed back to your place. All you wanted to do was get up to your apartment and crawl beneath the blankets in your bed and hide. You just wanted to forget this entire nightmare of an evening. There was no way to salvage what you’d done, to take it back. 

You should have never gone out tonight.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Eddie's sitting closer to Buck than he's allowed himself since Buck came out - since Buck started dating Tommy. But Buck isn't dating Tommy anymore and Eddie came out to Buck fifteen minutes ago and now they're having conversation so intense that Eddie thinks he might need to go to an emergency therapy session after they're done. So Eddie's sitting closer to Buck than he's allowed himself to in over a month, but it feels too close and not close enough at the same time.

"What am I supposed to say Buck? That I lied when you asked me what I remembered about getting shot? That if I told you what I remembered you'd never be able to look at me the same way?"

"Eddie -" Buck starts, but Eddie cuts him off before he can say more.

"You want to know what I remember about that day? I got shot in the middle of the street on a sunny fucking morning in L.A. and as I was laying on the ground bleeding out I reached for you. I thought I was dying and all I wanted was to touch you one last time. Do you want me to tell you that I was bleeding out and all I could think was that I never told you how much I love you? Because it's true, it's true."

"W-why didn't you tell me after?" Buck sounds as broken as Eddie feels.

"I thought I did," Eddie says and he reaches over the empty space between them but doesn't close the gap. It's only a foot, maybe less, but it feels as wide of a gap as it had felt like while he was bleeding onto the pavement. "I gave you my son Buck. I gave you my heart."

The "oh" that leaves Buck's mouth sounds like a revelation and an accusation all at once. It sounds like 'you didn't tell me' and 'I didn't realize' and 'I wish I'd known sooner'.

But then Buck does close the gap between their hands, just like he had all those years ago while Eddie had lay dying on the street, saved by the same hands that cover Eddie's now. His blood forced to stay in his body with the same fingers that slot through Eddie's now.

Eddie lets out a breath he hadn't realize he was holding and his next inhale feels better than his first breath after leaving that well. It feels like breathing for the first time.

"I'm still in love with you," Eddie tells him, because it's the only thing unsaid between them. It's the only thing left to say.

"Yeah?" Buck's eyes are wet and Eddie realizes his are too.

"Yeah."

"Me too - I-I love you too. I think I have for a really long time actually. I just didn't - didn't realize what that feeling was."

[nickfowlerrr]

i never thought you’d happen to me - 1

part two / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut (part two), fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀 (part two). if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: just a bit over 6k.

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card.

fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think! 🥰

It’s another late Friday night as you and the team lounge around the common room, nearly empty takeout containers scattered around the table, glasses and bottles of your drinks much the same. There’s a movie no one is watching playing on the large screen as the current conversation around you continues.

You’re not sure how telling a story from your last mission with Bucky has turned into this once again, but here you are. Another cute remark from Sam about his expectancy to be in the wedding party earns him another glare from you.

“Hey, you side-eye now but in ten years you’ll look back and realize how right we all were,” he says, elbowing Bucky slightly. “Tinman by your side,” he adds with a grin - clearly amused with himself.

“That is not my future,” you say with a humorless chortle.

“I can show you your future,” Wanda speaks from her spot on the couch, everyone turning their heads at once to look at her. She’s been unusually quiet the past few minutes - not engaging much in the conversation as she observed it instead. She takes another sip of her wine as she meets your gaze, foot swinging lazily as she keeps one leg crossed over the other.

She tilts her head at you while you eye her with a raised brow, a look of incredulity on your face.

“What?” she questions, confused at not only yours, but everyone’s, lack of response.

“Come on,” you laugh lightly, brushing her off.

“I’m serious.”

“Wanda, I don’t need to see what my future looks like to know that Bucky will be playing no part in it.”

A round of scoffs, snickers and a groan erupt from around the living room as you roll your eyes. You catch Bucky, seated across from you, doing the same as you turn your face.

“You’re all very funny, and I’m glad you’re amused with yourselves, but I can’t sit here and listen to the same inane conversation over again, soooo,” you pause for a breath, “I’m going to bed,” you clap as you stand from your spot on the couch.

“Look, I don’t speak for everyone, but I am not joking in the slightest,” Kate laughs as she leans back into her seat. Aiming finger guns at you and Bucky, “You guys,” she says, “are endgame.”

“And you, my friend, are drunk.”

Another round of laughs before the previous chatter resumes among the group, a story of misadventure now being told from Parker’s perspective, and you can hear Stark’s interjections already.

You grab your empty glass and head to the kitchen, Wanda following shortly after you.

“You’re stubborn,” she says with no preamble.

You turn with a quirked brow, “Am I?”

“Very. So much so, I think I may need your permission.”

“Sorry...uhm, for?” you ask, clearly confused.

“I think you should see it.” Your face falls slack at her words as you turn back to finish washing out your glass.

“Wanda, -” you go to laugh again.

“No, actually,” she stops you, correcting herself, “you need to see it. You’re stunting yourself. You’re constantly getting in your own way. I think it’d be good for you, to see what you can have if you finally allow it to come to you.”

You're quieted by her sincerity for a moment, half because you weren’t taking any of the previous conversation seriously, and half because you didn’t think it was something she was actually capable of doing. In fact, you still didn’t. But if she wanted to try, who were you to argue.

“Uhhh,” you begin, shaking your head lightly, “I mean, if you really want to, then, go for it, I guess. You have my permission.”

“Good,” she smiles, turning to walk back out to the other’s.

“Wow, wait,” you stop her, “like, what exactly are you gonna do?”

“Just a swap,” she says simply. “A day in the life of your future self. You don’t have to do anything, just go to sleep tonight and you’ll see.”

Your eyes narrow in thought, “...This isn’t dangerous, right?”

“No, not at all. You guys will be fine. 24 hours and you’ll wake up in your own beds, safe and sound. I promise.”

She smiles and flits away quickly. You shake your head at yourself again, still unsure what exactly you’ve agreed to. And it isn’t until you’re walking down the hallway back to your room that what she said actually catches up to you.

You guys will be fine?

You stop walking when you hear footsteps behind you, glancing back to find Bucky coming down the hall. You swallow hard and turn back around, not far from your door.

“Stalker much?” you say without facing him, earning a scoff in return.

He’s barely a step behind you now, though his sudden proximity is not all that surprising. You’ve grown used to his stealth.

“In your dreams.”

“More like waking nightmares. Every time I turn around it’s like you’re always just right there.”

“Maybe if you didn’t put yourself into jeopardy every five minutes I wouldn’t have to shadow you so often.”

You’re walking side by side and you get to your door as he speaks. You turn on him, instantly irritated.

“Are you being serious?” you level at him. He doesn’t respond. “How are you still hung up on Belarus? It was one mission. That was not on me, I didn’t fuck up. No one else saw them coming, either,”

“I did.”

“Well, sorry I’m not as infallible as the one and only Bucky Barnes,” you speak exaggeratedly, annoyance clear in your tone. “You still act like I’m some kind of liability. I’ve been careful. I’m riding a lengthy no injury streak and we’ve still yet to fail a single mission. After how many assignments we’ve been on together, you think you’d start taking me more seriously.”

“I never said I didn’t take you seriously. Just think sometimes you’re still a little too cocky for your own good.”

“For the thousandth time, I’m not clueless, Barnes. I don’t need you monitoring my every move. Not during training, not on missions, and definitely not walking down a hallway at night. I think I can handle getting to my room alone. Or is assuming that too cocky of me?” you ask with a tilt of your head, sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

You don’t wait for a response before you turn to your door and let yourself in, snapping it shut behind you.

You flick on the light and are quickly greeted by a room that is… definitely not yours. You pause for a second, taking in your surroundings before you deflate with a sigh, following it up with a deep breath. You turn the light back off and then turn back around to the door. You wait for a second longer with your hand on the handle before you force yourself to exit the room.

Just like you knew he would be, Bucky is still standing right where you left him; a stupid smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Wrong room,” he says.

“Fuck off,” you grumble as you walk a little further down the hall, to your actual door.

“Goodnight to you, too,” Bucky says as he continues to his own room, not far from you. You send him a glare and a “hmph” before shutting your door and getting ready for bed.

You’re not helpless. You’re not clueless. You’re damn good at what you do. But fuck if Bucky doesn’t have a knack for knocking you off kilter with a single look.

—-

It’s a soft shaking that wakes you from your peaceful sleep. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move - you don’t even want to blink open your eyes. But the shaking comes again. Your brows furrow as your arms tighten around your pillow and you cuddle further into it.

Only it’s not your pillow.

It takes a second for you to process that instead, it’s a warm body you’re pressing yourself against before your eyes snap open.

You look up and find a confused Bucky staring down at you.

When your eyes meet, though, there’s a bit of softness there. And as you take in his face, you relax a bit again. His presence beside you is at once comforting as it is confounding.

“What are you doing?” you both ask at the same time - only furthering your confusion.

You suddenly realize you’re still wrapped around him and quickly sit up and give him space.

“Why are you in my bed?” you ask as you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he says as he looks around, “but I don’t think we’re at the tower.”

You look up and blink away the fuzziness. Then it hits you.

“Oh shit,” you murmur.

“What? You know where we are?” he asks as he stands and starts looking around, inspecting the room. “Better yet, how the hell we got here?”

“Maybe…Would you believe me if I said we might possibly be in the future?”

Bucky turns and looks at you incredulously.

“Wanda,” you speak at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake,” he says as he runs a hand over his face.

“In my defense,” you begin, “when I agreed to this, I didn’t think she’d be able to do it. I also didn’t think it’d involve anyone else..”

“What do you mean you agreed to this? What is this?”

“She said I needed to see the future. It’d be good for me, or whatever, so I said okay. She said it was uh, a future swap? 24 hours. Day in the life and then I’d wake up back in my own bed the next day.”

“And you agreed to it?”

“Fuckin’, yeah, obviously,” you huff. “I didn’t think it’d be.. Real? I don’t know.”

“So, so what? We’re stuck in some unknown future for the next 24 hours?”

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?”

“Why would you agree to something like this without fully knowing what it is you’re agreeing to? This is exactly what I’m talking about when I say-”

“Spare me, Barnes. It’s Wanda, okay? We’re fine. It’s 24 hours, and I’m assuming that clock started when we fell asleep last night, so really it’s only…,” your voice dies down as you look to the clock on the bedside table. The time isn’t what catches your eye, though.

No.

It’s the framed photo behind it that derails your train of thought.

“No fucking way,” you breathe as you grab it in disbelief.

You stare at the photo of you and Bucky, a close up of you in a sweet embrace, adorning soft smiles as you share a chaste kiss, your left hand touching his cheek, and what you can only assume is a wedding ring sitting pretty on your finger.

This has to be some kind of dream. That’s it. You’re dreaming. Duh. Your hand moves before your mind does and you slap yourself in your face as hard as you can manage, sure it’ll wake you up and you’ll be back in the tower, in your own bed, alone.

“What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaims in surprise as you wince slightly and hold your cheek as it stings. He walks over to you, becoming more tentative as you look up at him.

“‘M not dreaming. Are you?”

“No, I’m wide awake, believe me,” he says as he gets closer. “Don’t slap me, either.”

You eye him harshly before handing him the frame.

“Well, it.. Explains why you’re here, at least,” you say, voice quieter than you intended as your thoughts were still reeling. “We’re not just in my future, we’re in-”

“Our future,” he finishes as he stares at the photo himself.

“Yeah.”

“So, our room…” he says more to himself than to you. He makes his way around the room, pulling open drawers and looking in the closet as you stand and head for the bathroom.

You meet yourself in the mirror, sure enough, you still look the same. You’re you.

Walking back out into the room, you head for the window, pulling back the curtain. As you peer out, you’re expecting to see a skyline, or city street, but instead you’re met with the view of an open yard.

You pull away from the window in surprise, “Are we in a house?”

You turn to Bucky, who turns to face you. You both head to the bedroom door, you following behind him as he takes the lead.

It’s a house. Definitely a house.

The bedroom door leads to a long hallway, three doors along the right back wall, another door at the far end opposite your own, and to the left of that, on the left wall, is another room.

In the middle of the hallway is an opening, and you and Bucky turn there without inspecting any of the other rooms.

You find yourselves in a living room, before walking into the kitchen.

“We should look around,” you say in a whisper - why, you aren’t sure.

“What exactly are you planning on finding?” he questions as you pull open a drawer, sifting around.

“I don’t know? More information. Like what we’re doing here. What we do. What year it is. Maybe we learn something and it’ll send us home sooner? I don’t know, just, something,” you answer, on edge already by being surrounded by the unknown and only growing more agitated at his every word.

“Why are you getting mad at me?”

“I’m not getting-,” you stop yourself, taking a breath, “sorry. Okay? I thought you were trying to be a dick,”

“Why do you assume I’m being a dick?” he asks, annoyed himself now.

"Because you always act like a fucking dick!", you nearly yell as you slam the kitchen drawer shut.

"Fucking dick!"

You both freeze at the high, sweet-sounding voice that comes from behind you. Your brows furrow as you glance at Bucky, his reaction to the mirthful echo much the same as yours, before you both slowly turn around.

The sight you're met with has you both frozen in shock.

A set of twin toddlers clad in matching pajamas, both of whom bear a striking resemblance to you and Bucky, are staring at you both.

You can't explain why, but your heart is gripped by the mere sight of them. It's something more than just their cuteness, it's something instinctual. How it's possible, you're not sure, but you know, somehow, that they're really yours. Future or not, those are absolutely your kids.

It seems with each passing moment, you and Bucky are left more and more stunned by how your future is turning out, but as you notice the little boy's eyes watering and the pout on his little lips as he looks right at you, you can't seem to care about anything else.

“Hey, buddy,” you squat down and hold your arms open for him, and he waddles to you right away as his eyes well more and more. He hugs you, still pouting as he cuddles into your chest and you hold him tightly as you stand, exchanging another glance with Bucky who looks nearly stupefied until the soft voice of the girl rings out once again.

Your eyes shoot to her as she twirls around clumsily, a chant of "fucking dick" leaving her lips over and over before she starts to tilt, seemingly having made herself dizzy. You're about to gasp, moving forward instinctually as you watch her wobble a bit more, but she's in Bucky's arms in an instant as he grabs her before she falls.

"Woah, there, sweetheart," he says with a small laugh as she dramatically goes limp in his arms. An exhausted breath leaves her little lungs as she breathes out the repetition one final time. She then lifts her tiny hand up to Bucky’s cheek, effectively slapping him as she plants it, blinking up at him. “What’s this?” she asks him curiously as she smooshes his face, feeling his stubble.

“Uhh…It’s hair. I haven’t shaved - Ow,” he exaggerates when she interrupts him and pats his cheek again, a bit harder this time, though you know it didn’t hurt him in the slightest. It makes the girl laugh, though.

“You should shave, Daddy,” she advises, pulling a face.

Her words pull a breathless laugh from him as he gazes down at the small girl, a lump forming in his throat as he takes everything in. He feels crazy, but he can see you in her, and he can see himself, too. Her and her brother, they both look like the perfect little combinations of the two of you. And they’re both so comfortable with you guys. So at ease and uninhibited, just like children should be..

It’s a stark contrast to how he grew up and he can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of pride, knowing that he isn’t repeating the cycle he swore would die with him.

He’d stopped letting his mind wander to what if futures long ago, but when he did imagine what it’d be like to have a family of his own, this is the kind of peace he longed for. The happy, settled down future he was sure he’d never have.

And you.

Your hand has been mindlessly rubbing the boy's back in an effort to comfort him as he cuddles into you, that never faltering pout pulling every string your heart has as Bucky attends to the girl relaxing in his arms.

"Linc's sad, Mommy," the girl says, pointing at her brother. The title has you swallowing hard, your heart clenching at how sweetly she calls to you.

Linc?... Must've been Bucky, you think briefly before you gently pull him away from you slightly so you can see him better, his bleary blue eyes peering up at you.

"Why are you yelling at Daddy?" he pouts still. Your brows furrow and mouth parts on an inhale, as if you're going to answer him, but nothing comes out as you try and think of what you can say. His innocent question stumping you.

"It's alright, pal, we were just kiddin' around," Bucky offers as he gets closer to you both. You look at him, a bit guilty but thankful for the save.

"Can we have pancakes, Daddy?" the girl asks as she wriggles around like a worm in his hold.

"Pancakes! Please!" Linc smiles as he continues hanging onto you, seemingly happy with Bucky's defense of you - any qualms he had long forgotten as he’s now focused on the mention of pancakes for breakfast.

"Sure," you answer for him, acquiescing easily with a smile before looking to Bucky with wide eyes.

You’re not entirely sure how exactly this all happens, but somehow you end up married with two kids. As shocking as it is, and as confused as you are about how, a part of you is grateful - maybe even happy - that Bucky is here. He may be an ass a lot of the time, overbearing and micromanaging your every move, but you guys have been through hell and back together. Partners from the very start of your time as an Avenger. If you’re being honest, this future makes more sense than you previously wanted to admit.

In an attempt to not freak out the twins, you know you have to play the part. Act like nothing is out of the ordinary and that you are indeed their mom. You are, technically, but you don’t have any idea what the hell you’re doing or what’s wholly needed of you. You’ve nannyed before, though. You know the basics..

"Have we brushed our teeth yet?" you ask the twins, sure the answer is a "no". Your and Bucky's arguing clearly is what woke them up, the yelling must have led them out here from their room.. Rooms?

"Mhm," the girl hums, though just from looking at her, the lie is evident as she avoids looking directly at you.

"Don't lie, Ellie," her brother chastises.

Ellie.. That must've been me, you think with a twitch of a smile before you set Linc down.

"Alright, go with Buc- your dad, and I'll start on the pancakes," you instruct before the twins burst out in giggles. You frown, brows furrowing as you watch them, hoping they'll let you know what exactly is so funny.

"No, we want daddy's pancakes, Mommy!"

"With chocolate chips and syrup!"

"Yeah, they want Daddy's pancakes, Mommy," Bucky taunts with a smirk as you shoot him an annoyed look. He seems a lot more comfortable now than he was a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but notice how easily he seems to be taking this; easing into his role in this place and time. He’s good.

"What's wrong with my pancakes?" you press the toddlers.

"Daddy's are better, but it's okay, your grilled cheese is the best,"

"Yeah! Oh, can we have grilled cheese for lunch, Mommy? Please, please, pleeease," Ellie begs cutely, leaning to you while still in Bucky's hold.

You huff a laugh, agreeing as Bucky sets Ellie down to follow you.

"See if you can find anything," you tell him as you meet his eye before following after the tikes pulling on your hands.

"Don't forget the chocolate, Daddy!"

Bucky watches as you're led to the bathroom before he starts moving around the kitchen. He's about to start looking around for more information on when exactly you are, and the kind of life you’re living, but thinks better of it for now. He'd rather not have two toddlers throw a fit over unfinished pancakes on top of everything else he's trying to wrap his head around at the moment.

He finds the pantry and grabs all the ingredients he needs for his mom's pancake recipe - the one he knows by heart- and gets to work on the batter. The chatter from the kids and you in the bathroom floats into the kitchen and he can’t help but smile at the sound of your voice as you talk to them.

He soon loses himself in the simplicity of the task at hand, and how nice it is to be here like this. He's in pajamas on a Saturday morning, making breakfast for his family as they start their day..

Seems entirely unreal, but a dream nonetheless. And as if that wasn’t enough to have his thoughts in a flurry, he still can't shake the feeling of how nice it was waking up with your soft body pressed against his. Opening his eyes to discover the warmth beside him was you. He was confused at first, wondering when and how you’d gotten into his room, but more so concerned about the why. He watched you for a minute before he noticed the bedding draped over the both of you. It wasn’t his and when he looked around the room, he realized he had no idea where you guys were. You were wrapped around him as you laid together in the comfy king bed, and it took him a second to try to wake you up. He knew he had to, of course, but if he was honest, he didn’t want the feeling to end. Your hold on him was comforting and he was completely at ease in your embrace, circumstances be damned. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in ages.

Though, that wasn’t entirely true. He remembers the last time he felt that way, and of course it was with you. You were stuck in a shoddy motel off the highway during a storm, the crappy jeep you’d been traveling in finally gave out half way through your drive back to the compound and you guys had no choice but to crash for the night. Of course the motel only had one singular room available with one singular bed. After some back and forth, you both decided you’d just share. It was big enough for the two of you, with space in between. When Bucky woke up that next morning, though, he found himself holding you tightly from behind, your arms wrapped over his as you slept peacefully in his embrace. He remembers the heat that crept up his neck and the flurry in his stomach that he still refuses to acknowledge as butterflies. He quickly loosened his hold and slipped away from you before you could even bat an eye. You were still none the wiser. He thought about that morning a lot after it happened.

He wondered what would’ve happened if you had woken up, too. What you would’ve said, what he could’ve said to you if he’d finally gotten out of his own way..

He can’t dwell on it anymore, though. He hasn’t. He won’t.

Except maybe he does.

And seeing as this is your future together, he thinks maybe that’s not as hopelessly embarrassing as he’s made himself believe it is.

And god, the sight of those kids. The warmth that bloomed in his chest as he took in their faces, he honestly was worried he would start crying if he stared too long. He had long given up on the idea of starting a family, he didn't think this life would ever be in the cards for him, and especially not with you.

But as he stood pouring chocolate chip pancake batter into a sizzling pan, he was struck by how right it felt.

Obviously, it wasn't right, neither of you should be here right now, and it made him wonder where exactly the future you and him were.

As soon as the thought went through his head, a tablet he hadn’t taken notice of on the back counter dinged.

He flipped the pancakes before he went to get the pad, taking the tablet in his hands. His face unlocked the device easily and opened up to his email account.

He clicked on the new, unread message from.. you?

—-

Hey Bucky.

Wanda says this is unnecessary but if I know me, I’m still probably freaking out internally. So, just letting you know that everything's fine. Or so she says.

We're gonna be back to our respective places in time come tomorrow.

I know waking up in the future - especially our future - may be hard to wrap your heads around, but it’s a hell of a lot better than waking up alone to a preening Wanda staring at you, trust me.

And you guys aren’t as oblivious as you try to be. You know, deep down, exactly why you’re there. Together. - and why it isn’t all that crazy.

And this goes without saying, but obviously, take care of the kids. Eleanor and Lincoln. If you haven’t found them yet, they’ll find you, I’m sure.

Today at 2pm, you need to drop them off at 7314 Wisteria Drive. That's Steve and Nat's house - so don't make it weird. They're keeping the kids so we can celebrate our anniversary.

Funny how that lines up..

So, anyway, apparently all we need to do on both ends is enjoy the 24 hour downtime. We’ll be waking up in our own beds before we know it.

Okay.

Bye.

(I’d say I love you but I don’t wanna freak you out. x)

—

Bucky just stares down at the email blankly while his brain tries to catch up. He's gonna have to have you read it yourself. Before he can fixate on that last line in particular, he can smell the browning of the pancakes.

His attention quickly returns to the food as he starts to plate it, shutting off the burner. The kiddie plates he finds in a cabinet earn a half smile from him as he cuts up the pancakes for the kids and spots their booster seats, placing the plates before them.

He hears them before he sees them as they come down the hallway, all laughs.

You appear just after they do, a look on your face he can't turn away from. Your soft smile and the adoration swimming in your eyes as you watch your kids, both of them waiting to be lifted up to sit down, is.. beautiful.

He catches himself staring before he turns his focus back to the table, lifting Eleanor into her seat before lifting Lincoln in his, earning a "thank you, daddy," from each of them in return, a wave of astonishment and pride coming over him yet again. He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to that.

You listen as they talk back and forth about their pancakes and their laughter when they start playing with one another as they eat their lightly syruped bites.

You stand by Bucky, absentmindedly grabbing a pancake and biting into it, stopping almost immediately as the fluffiness catches you off guard. God, they were so right. These are amazing.

"Good, right?" Bucky's voice pulls you back as you swallow your bite.

You lick your lip before looking over at him. "Did you find anything?"

He hands you the tablet and watches as you read the email.

You click your tongue, and then stay silent for a minute.

He almost can’t believe it when you do it, looking at you incredulously once again after you suddenly slap yourself in the face once more.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he bites quietly, moving to stand in front of you and blocking your view of the kids momentarily.

"Just had to make sure," you reply, again cringing at the stinging of your cheek. You eye him before making a move to slap him, too, but he grabs your hand before you can make contact. He looks at you like you're insane as you huff again. "So this is..."

"This is real," he finishes for you. "That hard to believe, huh?"

"That's an understatement. So, I’m not dreaming. But are you sure you’re not dreaming?"

“You think my dreams involve waking up in the future with no memory of what’s gone on between me going to sleep to waking up? That’s a literal nightmare for me. Plus, I learned a while ago how to differentiate between my dreams and reality. Trust me, we’re not dreaming.”

You swallow thickly, an apology on the tip of your tongue. You hadn’t considered that before. Before you can voice your thoughts, though, you're distracted by the interaction between the kids at the table.

"Linc, I'll give you a piece and then you give me one of your piece, okay?"

"You take this one," Linc says as he gives his sister a piece off of his plate and she gives him a piece off of her's.

You can't help but chuckle at the exchange.

"We make cute kids, though," Bucky says, almost under his breath. But you still hear him, and you respond before your brain catches your tongue.

"Yeah, we do."

You push off the counter as Bucky watches you, surprised that you heard him and even more so by your agreement, though it'd be impossible for anyone to argue that your kids aren’t, in fact, ridiculously adorable.

"Do you guys want -"

"Orange juice, please!" Ellie answers before you even finish asking.

"And water, please," Linc follows.

"OJ and water, you got it."

----

You and Bucky get the kids ready to go to Steve and Nat's with minimal arguing... until you had to pack their bags.

What they should or shouldn't take with them was a point of contention as you ridiculed each other's choices. After your bickering and some input from Ellie and Linc, you guys just hoped they had everything they needed. You'd unnecessarily packed them three outfits each just in case of spills or messes and their diaper bag was loaded full, too. Maybe too much for one day, but better safe than sorry, right?

After loading the twins in the car, Bucky followed the GPS to the address you'd left in the email.

When you guys pulled up to the house, you were greeted by Natasha who was unloading groceries from her car. The domestic scene warmed your heart. She deserved the simplicity, the normalcy, and you were happy to know that one day, she’d have it.

She lit up as she saw you guys approaching and came right over, going straight for the back door.

Linc and Ellie were all smiles and giggles as they tried fruitlessly to escape their car seats in favor of being in Nat's arms.

"Bugs!!" Nat greeted them with an enthusiastic smile as she started working on their belts. "I've missed you guys so much! How long has it been? Ten years?"

They laughed in unison at her before Ellie corrected her. "Yesterday, Aunt Nattie!"

"Yesterday?" she questioned in faux disbelief.

She wasn't able to keep up the play, though as the second they were out of their seats, they nearly tackled her.

You watched Steve come outside, coming up to the car with a grin, a girl no more than ten and another toddler, maybe a little older than the twins, in tow.

"Get them inside for me, honey," Nat said to the oldest one. She looked nothing like either of them, dark hair and dark eyes, but still it was clear she was their daughter. The younger one looked like Steve, though, and you wonder briefly if that was just by chance or if they’d had a surrogate. Natasha had talked about the possibility before, and of adopting, but starting a family wasn’t something any of you were actually considering at the time, settling down and having kids wasn't really your focus when you were all trying to make sure the world wouldn’t be ending tomorrow. "We'll be right in. And pick a movie for the sleepover before your Dad does," she pretended to whisper, earning a laugh from the girl as she corralled the kids up the porch.

Nat turned her gaze back on you and Bucky, her stare nothing less than scrutinizing.

"Are you guys in pajamas?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Mh, uh, yeah," you laughed a little breathlessly before looking back at the house, distracted. "They didn't even say bye," you said in your disappointment. You'd only just met the kids, but you felt so instantly connected to them.

"Don't worry about them, they're gonna have fun tonight. And so are you two," she says pointedly, if not a bit suggestively, pulling you from your thoughts. You feel the heat that creeps up your skin and refuse to look at Bucky.

"What are you guys doin' tonight, did you decide?" Steve asks.

"Staying in," Bucky blurts out as you blink and smile. But their faces at that, their smirks of acknowledgement make you grow hotter as you try to not let your embarrassment show.

"Mhm," you hum tight lipped.

It's quiet for a moment as you all watch one another before Steve breaks the silence.

"You guys are acting weird."

"Are we?" you question back too quickly.

"Yeah. You are," Nat says.

"Sugar," Bucky blurts out again. "They're loaded up on sugar. Sorry, they really wanted pancakes this morning. But uh, look, thanks for watching them. We should uh, get going, so.."

"Yeah, we should go," you agree. "What time do you want us to pick them up?"

"We're dropping them off tomorrow afternoon, right?" Steve questioned. "Or did you not want them to go with us?"

"No, oh, right. Duh! I just forgot - that's what we talked about. Because you're taking them to.." you trail off, prompting them.

"The gardens?" Nat finishes.

"Right, yes, the gardens. Which is great. And we appreciate it so much. And if you need anything or anything happens, ya know just call us," you continue on as Bucky starts to pull away. You fight the urge you have to glare at him until you finish your awkward goodbye and Steve and Nat watch you both drive off, clearly confused about the weird interaction.

"Did you miss the part of the email where it explicitly said: don't make it weird?" Bucky asks.

"Fuck off, you were no better," you scowl as you slump in the seat. "What now?"

[kleewie]

i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)

summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)

→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)

→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)

→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!

credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!

beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!

the debut.

“forbidden?” you repeat.

“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”

you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.

you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.

besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.

remembering it now, you want to laugh.

i told you so, your thoughts chastise.

god, you should've listened.

childe, the actor

“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.

your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.

you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.

childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.

but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.

for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.

the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.

yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.

“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”

you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.

as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.

eight months, you've been a couple.

but, there are some things you're afraid to say.

each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.

yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.

you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!

it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.

so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.

“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.

two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.

“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”

you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”

“then what is the problem?”

childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.

he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.

“me?” childe whispers.

he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.

“why?” he pleads.

“you won't understand.”

“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”

you hesitate. you tell him and then what?

you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.

your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.

so, you shake your head firmly.

“tell me, please.” he whispers.

you cross your arms, and look away.

“are you sick?”

you shake your head.

“somebody hurting you on set?���

again, you shake your head.

childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”

“no!”

“then what is the damn problem?”

“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.

childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.

is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.

“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.

you keep your mouth firmly shut.

“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”

childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”

with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.

leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.

more under the cut!

despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.

he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.

surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.

stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.

he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.

however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.

the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.

a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.

as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.

the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.

“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”

the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”

“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”

“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.

you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”

“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”

you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”

“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.

irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”

childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”

you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”

“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.

“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”

he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”

your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”

“publicity, baby.”

you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”

“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”

“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”

he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.

“you're terrible.”

“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”

a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”

childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”

“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”

childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.

“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”

bonus: five years later

your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.

‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.

‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.

‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.

you even receive a message from childe himself.

‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’

attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.

you click the link.

the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.

a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.

the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.

“um. hello, childe!”

the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.

the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”

childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”

the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.

but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”

quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.

to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”

the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.

ayato, company director

“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”

friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.

dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?

god, you need a drink.

the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.

who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.

but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.

you swallow the thought down.

as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.

not now, his expression conveys.

you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.

so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.

it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.

you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.

suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.

“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”

you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”

ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”

you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.

a friend, he says to his business partners.

a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.

a companion, he whispers to his family.

you're sick and tired of it. all of it.

raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.

ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”

soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.

you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”

“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.

you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”

before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.

“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”

he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.

you swallow the bitter thought.

“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.

ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.

ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”

“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”

her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.

“they're just close friends, you know.”

you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”

ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”

sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”

“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”

“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”

“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”

you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.

you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.

you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.

however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.

and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?

you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.

even from you.

and the thought sours your mood.

excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.

you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.

“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.

you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.

maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.

“what did you discuss with kokomi?”

“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”

“answer the question.”

he smiles, “business as always.”

you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”

ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.

you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.

“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.

you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”

“don't toy with me, darling.”

as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?

last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”

yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.

if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.

but he didn't.

so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.

your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.

if only he didn't ask.

“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”

ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”

you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”

“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”

your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”

anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”

ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”

he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.

ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.

although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.

but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.

he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.

he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.

instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.

“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”

ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”

“yes.”

“they'll catch a cold.”

“they will.”

he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”

“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”

ayato stays silent.

“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”

he sighs.

“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”

after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.

“can we talk?” he begins.

you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”

“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.

“i know.”

“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”

“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”

he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.

you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”

“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”

“i'm so sorry.”

“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”

relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.

the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.

“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”

“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”

he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”

a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”

“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”

“no.” you scold.

“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”

you laugh, “prove it.”

your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.

“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”

bonus: ten minutes before the clash

“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.

ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”

“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”

“they do.”

“have you told them?”

“...it may have slipped past my mind.”

kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”

ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”

“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”

he chuckles.

“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”

“they asked me to when we started dating.”

she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”

“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”

“sadistic.”

“kokomi?”

she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”

“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”

author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).

so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.

plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)

[bitterie-sweetie]

Fake it til you make it

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Genre: fluff, fake dating WC: 6.5k Warnings: alcohol A/N: yes it's about vday buuut it's actually for @syuperseventeen's bdayyy!!! surprise surprise! happy birthday nat, i hope this year is even better and filled with many things to look forward to <3

Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.

Jeonghan is a prankster. 

Growing up, you’d often be on the receiving end of his pranks at school. Third grade “initiation” had you drenched in water after he told you to pin a cup against the wall with a straw, and in ninth grade you had tears streaming down your face after eating an entire scoop of wasabi—not the matcha ice cream he said it was. Then there was the time he did something to make your first crush hate you, which, in hindsight, was a good thing because the guy turned out to be a total asshole. 

It wasn’t Jeonghan’s fault entirely when you were too willing to fall for his pranks because being the target of a prank meant having his attention, and that’s something that you wanted. Jeonghan had a way of making everyone feel special, and his attention was a limelight that you never wanted to step out of. 

Honestly, you might’ve kept up with it if he kept going. But then that fateful day came and it was like you were suddenly on his side, working with him instead of being the victim to his antics, and you’d say that that’s what has kept the two of you together after all these years. 

Well, at least until now.

“Hey,” you greet in a rush, looking around the table at everyone and seeing that you’re truly the last one to arrive. Usually, you’d give that place to Lee Chan; he’s the most popular of your friend group and almost always has a prior appointment to your meetups. “Sorry I’m late. My train was delayed and—oh, did you already order for me?” 

Jeonghan slides a sealed bubble tea across the table and sets it in front of your seat—the one empty chair right beside him, no less. When you glance at him questioningly he shrugs and tilts his head towards the crowd at the front. “The line was too long so I ordered yours with mine. Hope you’re feeling like your usual today.” 

Indeed, the sticker on the cup shows that it’s your go-to order. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks, babe.” 

Today’s meet up with your friend group is the first of the year and it’s also the first time you’re seeing everyone since Chan’s wedding… including Jeonghan. You would’ve spent Christmas and New Year’s with him had he not cancelled on you, and now that bit of distance has manifested into a larger uncertainty for you over the past while. Even now, the ‘babe’ seemed to come out awkwardly, sticking to your throat.

“Wow, you guys are actually disgusting. I hope you know that.” Seungkwan makes a face at you, and beside him, Soonyoung nods a few times in agreement. 

You plaster on a smile. “It’s okay to just say you’re jealous.” 

The only response you get is an eye-roll from Soonyoung, and then everyone moves on, thankfully. Mingyu asks you what you’ve been up to so you talk about your recent promotion at work and some new habits you’ve started in the new year, and when you sense that the conversation is starting to approach the territory of your future with Jeonghan, you gently steer it towards Chan. After all, he’s the one that got married just a few months ago, and you know he would never miss the chance to talk about his amazing honeymoon and how great this new chapter of his life is going.

There is truly nothing like adult friendships and its quarterly updates. 

Once there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, Jeonghan turns to you. “What are you doing this week?” 

“Oh, this week?” Your heart speeds up tenfold at the uncertainty of what might come next. “Hmm well, it’s Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yeah, exactly.” He nods and much to your relief, there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “So I’ll see you for our date then?” 

“Of course, babe.” 

“Can’t you guys do this somewhere else?” Soonyoung says as he stares daggers in your direction. You totally understand and sympathize with that though; today you’re turning up the sweetness more than usual to compensate for the distance you actually feel, unfortunately at the expense of your friends.

Jeonghan completely ignores Soonyoung’s complaint and doesn’t even look his way. “That’s good,” he says, leaning back in his seat and almost looking relieved at your answer. “I was afraid my darling might not have time for me anymore.”

“What? No way. Did you have anything in mind for our date?” 

“Hmm, yes but it’s a surprise. I’ll text you the details later.” 

“Well, uh, I have to run,” Chan says, slowly getting up from his seat. The rest of you hardly bat an eye, having gotten too used to his busy schedule. “It was nice seeing everyone. You guys should come over for my housewarming once everything is set up.” 

Mingyu stands up too. “Oh, I actually have to go too; got a dinner with Wonwoo later.” 

…On second thought, perhaps you overcompensated a bit too much with the cringe. Soonyoung and Seungkwan leave soon after getting a call from their roommate, Seokmin, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan at the table. Still seated side by side, your arm occasionally brushing against his. 

“How have you really been?” he asks in a low voice. 

“Decent, I guess, despite the winter blues and all. It’s pretty much what I said earlier.” You shrug when he remains silent. “Why do you ask? Do I look depressed or something?”   

“No,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “not depressed, exactly, but I wanted to see if you’re as sad as I am about not seeing each other in so long.” Then he leans in a bit closer, as if to whisper a secret. “I missed you, darling.”

It’s times like this when you feel like he’s toeing the line. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and a softer look in his eyes, not at all like the overdone sweetness to the point of sarcasm from before, but you can never tell if he really means what he says or if this is just part of the act. 

Regardless, it makes your face feel hot and it makes you unable to look directly at him. 

“Oh… yeah,” you say, trying to make a quick recovery. “It’s too bad we missed out on the holidays but at least we get Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yup, that’s exactly why I have something special in mind for that day. I want to make it up to you, darling.” 

You give him a smile and then go to take a sip of your drink, and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Despite saying he misses you, it’s interesting how he doesn’t explain why he bailed on the holidays in the first place, and you don’t know whether you should ask about it at this point.

Or if you should even be curious about such a thing. 

Jeonghan pulls you out of your thoughts with a brush of his hand on yours. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head out?” 

You agree and then let him hold your hand, lace his fingers with yours, and then lead you out of the shop. He doesn’t let go until you cross the parking lot and get to his car. It’s strange, you think. You can’t seem to recall the last time the two of you held hands so naturally like this especially when there’s no one else around. 

In fact, when the two of you are alone, the sickening sweetness is always toned down but not completely dropped. Now, Jeonghan’s smiles are softer around the edges like they’re less exaggerated, less of a performance, and when he calls you darling, his voice is quieter and isn’t at all coated in the sticky honey you’re used to. When he hugs you goodbye at your door, it’s a loose hug and almost has a degree of uncertainty. 

Jeonghan steps back but lingers just for a second. “I’ll see you in a few days for our date, darling.”

“Of course,” you put on a smile, “I can’t wait, babe.” 

He waits until you get into your building before giving a little wave and then heading on his way. 

After you close the door behind you and collapse onto your bed, you heave a sigh and finally let the smile slip from your lips. So there would be a Valentine’s date this year after all; the anticipation makes your heart speed up the slightest but at the same time makes you all the more anxious. You thought that he really would end things today, and if not, that you should be the one to do so. But seeing him after so long, feeling the way the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, basking in the brightness of his smiles, you simply couldn’t utter those words. 

Perhaps Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be the right time to do it either, or maybe your date won’t end up happening for whatever reason. You know that this is something you have to do, but the question is how exactly would you go about doing it? Because there is one major problem. 

You’re not dating Jeonghan at all. 

One moment in high school is what started this whole thing.

It was eleventh grade drama class—which Jeonghan thought would be fun to take as an elective—that resulted in the two of you being cast in the school play. Although neither of you landed a role that was remotely close to important, Jeonghan decided to have fun with it and improvise during your one minute of screen time and that somehow turned your insignificant cameos into a beautiful romance that had the audience rooting for you. 

And that very moment somehow managed to embed itself so deeply in your relationship with Jeonghan that it became a long running joke to this day. 

Today you’re sitting across from Soonyoung and Seungkwan again, with Mingyu beside you this time. Almost an exact replica of last week’s meetup, but Chan already has plans and Jeonghan is very obviously missing—something Soonyoung points out immediately.

“Wow, no Jeonghan today?” he says loudly even before the hostess is out of earshot. The people at the two tables nearby glance in your direction and you start to regret coming here at all. “We really won this one. Y/N, we should do this more often.” 

You definitely should not. “Um, yeah. Totally.” 

Last week’s meeting with your friends is what gave you the idea to consult with them about your situation. You first suggested the idea to Mingyu, and then used the prospect of free food to get Soonyoung and Seungkwan to come out, and naturally, Chan is busy so it ends up being the four of you at brunch. Which is better on your wallet, you think. You get the feeling that this quarterly meetup can totally happen more often if you were to make this offer every time. 

As for what you’re about to ask… well, truthfully, you still don’t know if you should even do it. You’ve gone so many years without saying a word that it’d simply be odd to ask now, plus you would run the risk of making everything weird. But if you don’t do it, you would only end up making it weird anyway because how much longer can you go on pretending?

Besides, it’s not only you and Jeonghan who are prolonging this inside joke for way longer than it should’ve lasted. All of your friends should be in on it if they treat the two of you like a couple too. 

The waiter comes by to take your orders, and you try not to wince at the entire list that comes out of Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths. Mingyu gets the least, seemingly knowing that something is up if the worried glances he throws your way is anything to go by. 

Once the waiter leaves, that’s when the small talk stops and all eyes turn to you.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Soonyoung asks with a goofy grin. “Since Jeonghan’s not here, does that mean you need help with Valentine’s Day plans or something?” 

Beside him, Seungkwan has the complete opposite expression as he eyes you warily between sips of his americano.

You take a huge swig of water like it’s liquid courage, and then go for it. “This is going to sound weird…” you start, trying not to notice the way Seungkwan tenses up as if bracing for your words, “but I wanted to ask you guys what my relationship with Jeonghan is.” 

Silence. Complete, dead silence. 

Soonyoung freezes like he’s in a photograph while Seungkwan’s hand holding his americano hangs in mid air as a drop of the drink dribbles down the side of his lip. 

“Sorry, what?” It’s Soonyoung who recovers first. “I think I heard that wrong.” 

You shake your head. “Just tell me.” 

“You’re asking us what your relationship with your own boyfriend is?” 

“Boyfriend—exactly!” You have to hold back all the thoughts you have on the topic. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. So you think he’s my boyfriend? That we’re dating?” 

Soonyoung frowns but it’s Seungkwan who answers, exasperated. “Y/N, what are you trying to say here? Are you trying to say you guys broke up? Or do you think we don’t know you well enough and this is a test? Can you say whatever it is directly—” 

“Jeonghan and I aren’t together.”

There, you said it. Your biggest secret is out.

It should make you relieved to finally let out the secret you’ve been harbouring for years or it should at least alleviate some of the weight on your chest, but it doesn’t. The silence in the wake of your confession only closes in on you and makes it all the more suffocating.

“Any—anymore?”

“No. We were never together.”

The bit of silence from earlier repeats itself. Maybe you should become a speaker or presenter with your ability to draw such reactions from a crowd.

Seungkwan noisily sets down his drink and then leans forward with a frown. He’s still in denial, that much is obvious, and he narrows his eyes as he asks, “Is this a joke? A hidden camera? Are you trying to prank us like Jeonghan—”

“No, I’m completely serious. It’s really not what it seems, and this is why I’m asking you guys what you see us as because at this point I don’t even know the answer myself.” 

With a deep breath, you tell them the truth about this entire thing.

You tell them about the high school play and your impromptu acting, and how that led for the two of you to become the famous couple at school afterwards. Sure, it might’ve been a good thing because that meant your acting was believable. But to two people who were interested in just about anything except love at that age, it was annoying and gross. 

After the show when the shippers wouldn’t stop, the two of you decided to do what you do best—pull a prank. You spent that Valentine’s Day together as a joke and acted extra disgusting to mock couples while making fun of how stupid people were to believe whatever you showed them. In twelfth grade, the two of you did the same for Valentine’s Day and then even went to prom together as a joke. 

In recent years, however, the annual joke of a Valentine’s Day date has turned into his Christmas and your Lunar New Year, his cousin’s graduation, your coworker’s housewarming, and Lee Chan’s wedding. It’s made you on a texting basis with his sister and it’s made him familiar with all your favourite food spots and go-to orders. It’s turned him into someone who’s simultaneously as distant as an acquaintance yet closer than a best friend. 

And so, here you are, living an entire lie because you and Jeonghan had the whole world fooled.

“That’s insane,” Soonyoung says when you finally finish the story, unable to look your way and instead, stares into his drink with how mind blown he is.

Seungkwan, on the other hand, remains a bit skeptical. “Okay, but then what was with all that PDA?All the kissing? Is this some sort of situationship?” 

“Oh, um.” Immediately you can feel your cheeks heating up. You didn’t think this far at all but now it seems like the entire truth will have to come out. “All of it was fake. We’ve… never actually kissed.” 

That drama class has taught you more than you needed to know about manipulating angles and the audience’s perception, and Jeonghan is very good at it. Your fake kisses were often just a trick of the angle or occasionally using the thumb trick, and having seen the evidence captured in photos over the years, you know how convincing it can look.

Now, it’s embarrassing to admit for reasons you never would’ve imagined. Admitting to pulling a childish prank like this is one thing, but the realization that you and Jeonghan have faked it for so long without ever once making it real has you feeling almost dejected.

“I always knew Jeonghan was crazy but I didn’t know he’d be *this* crazy.” Soonyoung now has his head in his hands and is staring off into space. “This is the most insane story I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or sad.” 

You give a wry smile. “Yeah, well, I get why you would think we were together though. You met us in college and wouldn’t have known about what happened in the past so I guess there would never be a reason to question it.” 

Beside you, Mingyu clears his throat and you turn to look at him. He’s been so quiet throughout your story that you were too busy focusing on the reactions of the other two, but looking at him now, his reaction is entirely different. Mingyu isn’t as surprised as he is concerned. “Actually, Y/N, a few years ago…” he says hesitantly, “there was a time when I asked him if you were actually dating.” 

“You did? What did he say?”

“He didn’t deny it.”

“Well, we all know how he loves to be ambiguous and leave things a mystery.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “No—see, that’s what I thought too, but it was different that time. At first he didn’t deny it, but when I pushed a bit more, he said that you’re dating. In actual words and with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.” 

This is news to you. You always assumed that they were all in on the joke and would’ve never guessed that anyone actually asked Jeonghan, but the fact that he answered that way is all the more baffling. 

“I don’t get it. Why would he tell you that?” 

“Yeah, so,” Soonyoung says, “from then on we all thought that was fully confirmed, and he never said or implied otherwise.” 

“Right…”

Mingyu nudges you gently. “Y/N, are you telling us about this now because you’re planning on stopping the act? Has it been bothering you? Or did something happen?” 

“Is that why you wanted to tell us today?” Soonyoung lets out a dramatic gasp and leans all the back in his chair, hands over his mouth. “Don’t tell me—are you going to stop the act because you have a crush on someone?”

“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that, it’s—” 

Here’s the next part of your big secret being revealed, something you weren’t entirely ready for but you tell yourself that this needs to happen. 

It’s because of your feelings for Jeonghan. Your very real, very genuine feelings that have nothing to do with this prank.

Truthfully, you can’t pinpoint when you started feeling this way, much like you’re not sure how this joke was able to stick around for so long. It could be the most recent development—when your friend tried to convince you to hop on a dating app, all you could think about was how wrong it felt because you already had Jeonghan. Or maybe it was the Valentine’s Day just before college graduation when he leaned in so closely you thought he was going to kiss you, for real this time, and then only realizing much later that you were disappointed that it wasn’t real. 

Or perhaps it started way back, to the time he asked you to prom—he said he didn’t have a date only for you to later find out he’d already rejected two promposals from other people. All for your fake relationship, supposedly.

And now, for you, what has started as a harmless prank has turned into something much more than that over the years. 

Everyone looks like they're at a loss for words after that part, and even Soonyoung has lost his enthusiasm after hearing it. “Shit, that’s…” he starts. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely sad for you.” 

Seungkwan and Mingyu have similar sentiments but you wave them off, eager to lighten the mood again after such heavy topics. The food on the table has been long finished and you’re beginning to feel like you’re overstaying your welcome when there’s a crowd waiting at the front of the restaurant. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I just wanted to get this off my chest today so that I can figure things out before I see him in a few days.” 

A while later, you finish paying and then all head out together. 

The conversation continues to replay itself in your head, and you realize there is one thing you’re curious about. You turn to Mingyu. “By the way—Mingyu, why *did* you ask Jeonghan if we were actually dating?”

Mingyu stops mid-stride and freezes like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting your question at all. “I—um, I was asking for a friend.” 

“A friend?”

“Yeah, Chan.” He nods a few times in a row. “I thought Chan had a crush on you and I was trying to help him out.”

Strange, seeing as you’ve probably interacted with Chan the least among your friend group. He’s simply too booked and busy to hang out with you, and has been all throughout your college years together. 

Oh, and he’s married.

“Like, before he met his wife?” you ask.

Soonyoung starts to cough furiously from where he is a few steps ahead while Mingyu’s cheeks redden the slightest bit. 

You vaguely remember the first time the two of you did this, and how it wasn’t anything like how it’s going now. 

Tonight is the night you’re supposed to go on your date with Jeonghan, and you’ve been buzzing with nerves since the night before. You have no idea what to expect for tonight since all he told you about it was to show up at his apartment, and that in itself was slightly concerning as you’ve never been to his home before nor has he been so secretive about any plans. Usually the two of you would be going to a casual place or would have the schedule shared ahead of time if it was a more formal event that needed preparation. 

Jeonghan buzzes you in when you arrive and before you can say you’ll wait for him in the lobby, he tells you to go up to his unit. Again, a bit strange. You do as he asks though, and then even go to knock on the door when there’s no sign of him coming out.

When he opens the door and steps aside, that’s when everything clicks—you’re not here so that he can get his car and take you to your date location. This *is* the date location.

Beyond the doorway, you can see that his apartment is completely decorated. Rose petals line the sides of the hall and lead to the dining table, covered in a deep red tablecloth and perfectly set for your meal. Beside it, a large bouquet of roses rests at the center of the sideboard surrounded by a row of flickering candles which light up the space.

Even without knowing what his home normally looks like, it’s obvious that all this would’ve taken a lot of effort to set up.

“Jeonghan, why did you prepare all this?”

He gives you a dazzling smile. “Because my darling deserves the best, of course. I told you I was going to make it up to you for cancelling Christmas.” 

“Babe, that’s too sweet of you. You really didn’t have to.” You try to return his smile but it doesn’t come easy when this whole situation is overwhelming. Then you let him take your coat and then guide you to the dining table where everything is set up. 

Only when you’re seated do you realize that his response doesn’t answer your question at all. 

The scent of the roses fill the room and looking at them gives you a pang in your heart. This is what the two of you used to make fun of—these big, romantic gestures, and the couples that willingly eat them up. Now it’s as if the tables have turned and you don’t know what to think. 

If this were in public, in front of your friends or other people, you would’ve said that it was another funny gesture that Jeonghan put up for the sake of making them cringe. Because the two of you were the perfect joking, prankster couple, right? 

Now that it’s just you and him here, it confuses you as to why he’s going to such lengths for a joke when it’s something that no one else would see, when there’s no audience to watch his performance. 

You watch as Jeonghan busies himself in the kitchen, serving the food that he’s prepared and pouring the wine into glasses while glancing your way every once in a while. He looks pleased, you note, and he should be if he got his space to look this beautiful. But you can sense that there’s something else too, almost like a nervousness that sits on his shoulder every time he breezes past you and makes eye contact for the briefest second.

After everything is ready, he finally takes a seat across from you and the dinner begins.

Making small talk is easy at first; you comment on your surprise at this type of date, talk about how cold it’s been lately and how it sucks that your company is forcing you to go back into the office. You ask him how his holiday went and how his family has been, and mention how cute his sister’s new puppy is after seeing a post about it on her social media. 

You know you’re just delaying the inevitable. Somehow you get the feeling he knows it too, judging by the way his answers are shorter than usual and how your conversation feels so superficial. So this time after there’s a lull in the conversation, you decide to go for it.

"Jeonghan, um…"

"Hmm?" He looks at you and waits for you to continue, but you don't. Or rather, you can't. "Ah, you're going to comment on how good this is, right?" he says instead, as if supplying you with a way out.

You're all too eager to grab onto it. "Wow, you read my mind." An enthusiastic nod, a slight look of surprise. "It's amazing. Did you make all this yourself?"

Jeonghan shakes his head and then follows up with a sheepish smile. "Partly. The rest is store bought."

Another nod, and then it just ends there again. Seated in this spot with the soft lighting of flickering candles cast against the wall and the heat of Jeonghan's gaze on you, the feeling of discomfort only grows. It's hard to remember what the two of you were like before, during the days when everything seemed so silly–when each move was a clearly defined act between two actors and the world was your stage. And most importantly, when each smile he showed you didn't send your stomach into somersaults or your mind into a loop of second guessing. 

The air is so heavy and stifling that you grab your glass and down a large gulp of the wine. At least when you're drinking, you wouldn’t have to speak, whether that might be responding to him in a way that gives away all of your thoughts, or completely spilling them out yourself. Maybe the alcohol will also drown out some of your anxieties and–

"Hey, slow down." Jeonghan glances at you with worry. "We have all night."

You set the glass down, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Right, sorry. This wine is just so good."

Yet another lie, but what's one more at this point? The wine is much too sour and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You would've much preferred a soda or bubble tea, and drinking something fancy like this during such a fancy occasion makes you feel like you're pretending to be someone you're not.

Which is exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You've been living a lie this entire time.

You briefly wonder if Jeonghan feels the same way—the two of you have never properly spent time alone in complete privacy, and to have your first time be in such a formal atmosphere must feel strange. But if he's uncomfortable, he makes no sign of showing it. Or maybe he's always been the better actor of the two of you.

“You know, since you mentioned seasonal depression, I was thinking that for Christmas this year we should go somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny to get away from the cold.”

“Oh, this year?” you repeat stupidly when you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Jeonghan wants to continue this thing? And here you were, thinking that he was about to end it at any moment for the past few months. “Um, yeah. That would be nice.” 

“Or it could be a fall trip. Your parents have been wanting to go see the leaves change colour, right?” 

There’s no hint of sarcasm on his face and no playful twinkle in his eye, and even though no one can read him very well, you know enough to tell that he’s being serious. You also know that what he’s saying makes no sense at all.

“Right, yeah. They’ve been wanting to do that.” 

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply automatically, and then reach for another long gulp of your drink. “Yup, all good.”

Jeonghan frowns, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure? If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

It’s strange, the way he looks at you. Jeonghan, who dances around questions and deflects easily with humour and only shows people what he wants them to see, now has worry filling his eyes as he waits for you to continue. As if he *knows*.

You doubt Soonyoung and Seungkwan would have spilled your secret so easily, but there’s a great possibility that the two of them would be unable to act normal around him after what they learned, and unintentionally hint at the truth. Then there’s the other possibility that Jeonghan knew way before any of this. Because maybe he—

No, you don’t want to think about that.

“It’s just that,” you say, having to force yourself to pause and slow down your thoughts before something terrible comes spewing out. A slow inhale, a shaky exhale. “Why are we here, Jeonghan?”

His frown deepens, but now it’s turned into confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What are we doing? This date has been nice, but I’m just very confused over why you put so much effort into this when there’s no one else around to see it. Weren’t we doing all of this as a joke? As a prank? Pretending to be a couple so that we can fool the world since that’s exactly what they wanted to see, but joke’s on them because we’re not?” 

Jeonghan watches you silently with an unreadable look on his face. “Is that how you feel?”

“’Well, yes, because isn’t that the truth? And now, we’ve been doing so much together that it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. How can it be when your mom is offering to give me homemade side dishes? Or—or when Chan’s wife was there, smiling at us on her wedding day like she wished we’d be just as happy as they are?” You pause to look at him and then proceed to look away. “How long are we going to continue lying to the world? Because I can’t stand the guilt.”

The last part of that may be true, but it’s not the full truth. 

“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t have to keep doing this.”

“W—what?” You stare at him, dumbfounded. 

Jeonghan sighs deeply and then meets your eyes, but then quickly looks away. “Yeah, we should’ve left this in high school. The joke has kind of gotten old, hasn’t it?” 

You have no idea what he means by any of that, but it feels like you’re better off not knowing. The tension in the air is thick, and even when you imagined your fake breakup hundreds of times in your head, this is not something you could have predicted. It’s as you’re on a precipice, and one wrong move will delete all those years, all that time you spent with him. 

And the worst part is that you don’t even want to break up.

“Jeonghan, look. I know all of this is supposed to be a joke, but why is it that it feels like you really do care?” One last deep breath before you make the jump. “And why is it that I *want* you to care?” 

That has him stunned for a second, so much that the expression is obvious on his face in a way that almost never happens. 

“Wait, what? I do care. No, I get that we started all this for fun back then, but that’s not how I feel about it now. Everything we’ve done is real—trust me, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family if that wasn’t the case. And I never thought I was lying to them. It’s exaggerated, yes, and much too dramatic, but I’m not a good enough actor where all that can be based on a complete lie.” 

You braced yourself for the final blow, only to be completely confused over his words. “What are you saying?” 

“Y/N, it’s always been real to me. All of it.” 

“But—but I thought you wanted to stop all this when you cancelled our plans for Christmas. Why did you do that?”

Jeonghan opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. “Do you remember last year at Chan’s wedding when you caught the bouquet?” 

You nod but don’t hide your confusion about where this is going.

“After you caught it, everyone was looking at you… and then at me. It was like they all expected us to be next, because well,” he shrugs, “everyone thought we were together. And that’s when I realized that this is more than simply feeling like it’s real. We were turning it into something real.”

“So you called off Christmas because you wanted to stop doing this? Because you hated how it was becoming real?” 

“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “The opposite. I was afraid of how much I liked that it felt real. That day at the wedding, I—I wanted to kiss you for real, Y/N. Not have to fake it.” 

“Oh…”

“If we did meet up for Christmas, I don’t know what might’ve happened. I thought it was safer to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts.” He hesitates slightly and you can see the pained smile he has on. “But one day into the holidays and I was already regretting my decision.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. Your mind is hardly listening anymore when it keeps on repeating Jeonghan’s words like a broken record, screaming to you that it’s real, that all of it is real. That you’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and that you won’t need to stage a fake breakup for your fake relationship. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I’m just—are you sure all this is real? Jeonghan, are you being serious?”

He breaks into a tender smile. “Don’t you remember? I already answered you back then, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You asked me if I’d be your darling, even if thousands of miles may separate us, even if—” 

“—if the paths we walk may crumble,” you finish off. “Or something like that. I actually have no idea what we said back then.”

Those were the lines in the play that you did back in high school, the very lines that the two of you conjured out of thin air one day and the very moment that started this whole thing. 

“Yeah, that,” he says softly.

“Hmm, so, babe,” you put on your usual mockingly sweet tone, repeating the line that you said on stage many years ago, “are you going to kiss me?” 

Jeonghan holds back a smile like he can’t contain his happiness, and follows with his line without missing a beat. “If that’s what my darling wants.”

The smile only widens when he gets up from his seat and you go to meet him halfway, and it’s the last thing you see when he leans in closer and closer. Jeonghan gently slides his thumb between his lips and yours as he closes the distance, like how it was done the very first time, but this time you can feel it as he slowly moves it away. 

Then you’re kissing him, actually kissing him for real for the first time. His lips are soft and warm, and the bit of hesitance between you seems to completely melt away as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer. You let yourself drown in his scent, the warmth of his touch, and the loud pounding of your heart now that you no longer have to be paying attention to the reactions of the people around you. Nothing else matters anymore, all that matters is what you have now.

You spend the rest of the night catching up, whether that’d be stories over the years of shared memories, or creating new memories to make up for the lost time. He tells you he loves you and that the trip suggestions were very much real, and the two of you laugh over how you’ve become the exact couple you once mocked. It’s easy to understand them now though, you think as Jeonghan gives you a sleepy smile as you’re cuddled up on the couch.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask something,” you say, and he looks at you in alarm at your abruptness. “Why did you tell Mingyu that we were together?”

Jeonghan stays silent for a bit, narrowing his eyes as if having difficulty recalling what you’re talking about. Then he finally answers. “Oh that?” He chuckles. “That was because I didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you.”

[imaginespazzi]

Part 4: Warning Bells

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)

(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)

Words: 6.1K

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033 

Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team. 

It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face. 

The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up. 

That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.

“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”

“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up. 

“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”

“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”

Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”

“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back. 

Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again. 

Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too. 

She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her. 

“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”

“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”

“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes. 

“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”

“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.

“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”

“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”

Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”

“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.

“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.

“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”

And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.

It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again. 

“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs. 

It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”

Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”

And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen, 

“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”

Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend. 

“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”

“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.

“Welcome home.”

***

Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence. 

“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”

“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond. 

“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way. 

“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening. 

“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously. 

“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”

“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly. 

“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. 

Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”

“Oh you absolutely are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”

They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”

“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana. 

“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.

Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath. 

“Hey-”

Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that. 

“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”

“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”

“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately. 

“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips. 

The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?”

“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.

She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is. 

“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”

“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”

“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours. 

“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”

“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look. 

“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends. 

“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”

“I’m not pay-”

“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”

“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”

Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”

The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage. 

“You coming Azzi?”

“Mama, are you coming?”

I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them. 

“Of course I’m coming.”

***

Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her. 

“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”

Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger. 

“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”

“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said. 

“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly. 

Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”

“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”

The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again. 

“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly. 

She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore. 

Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate. 

“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”

“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did. 

“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her. 

“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh. 

“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”

“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly. 

“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t you dare-” 

“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”

“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender. 

“You started it.”

“Yeah Mama, you started it.”

“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever. 

“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist. 

“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.

“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel. 

Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows. 

“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

***

Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames. 

So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”

“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother. 

“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her. 

Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”

Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”

“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”

Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them. 

“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently. 

“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”

The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”

Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”

“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch. 

“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”

“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”

“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”

***

Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be.  That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort. 

Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas. 

“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”

It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them. 

Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”

And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt. 

“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults. 

Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”

“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side. 

“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other. 

“Perfect.”

And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years. 

***

Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe. 

The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this. 

“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”

“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”

“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige. 

“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"

Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”

“Steph-”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”

Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”

“Azzi-”

“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes. 

“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay. 

“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”

“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake. 

“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”

“Az-”

“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”

Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”

“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”

“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”

Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”

“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away. 

It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.

[brain-rot-central]

Do you think that Astarion is actually decently intelligent or do you think he is real good at hiding his own stupidity?

Ohhh this is an interesting question. I have a whole theory on why Astarion seems like a ditz in game.

Astarion was (technically still is) a magistrate. The man is smart. He went to law school, and likely grew up highly educated. He's not stupid. His vocabulary is quite rich, though you can also attribute that to 200 years ago being the last time he had an earnest conversation with another being. The version of common spoken now in Faerûn is a bit duller. Even Wyll and Gale, also two highly educated men, don't speak the way Astarion does. Wyll even mentions at one point how Astarion's choice of words gives away his age (the whole "agog" bit).

However.

Given how smart Astarion is, him playing the helpless fool works in two ways for him: 1) it guarantees protection from others by way of gaining sympathy; and 2) it allows him to get close to potential targets without raising much suspicion. Mind you, those are both things he did (or at least tries to do) to Tav/Durge if you romance him.

HOWEVER.

My theory toward why he seems a bit off in terms of smarts has to do with him being enthralled by Cazador. Cazador keeps the spawn underfed on purpose as a way to make them more submissive and easily controlled. Their minds are clouded constantly by hunger -- only ever getting enough to keep themselves from going feral. Blood could dance under their noses and they'd never be able to touch it, unless Cazador wills it.

Astarion is essentially starved when we first meet him. But not for long, as he quickly takes off into the night to hunt (probably something he did at first just to see if he could and likely out of pure desperation). Once he realizes he can gorge himself on whatever amount of animal blood he can, he graduates to pushing the boundaries of another rule: the blood of thinking creatures. Yet another thing that was banned by Cazador. Astarion comments on how much sharper his mind is after having fed on the PC.

Anyway, my theory is that once Cazador is dealt with and Astarion is free, he slowly begins to regain all his prior memories as well as his intelligence. Everything is just being suppressed. Once Cazador is gone and he's given regular feedings, the man is a menace. A "too smart for his own good" menace.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Cowboy Resolutions

Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.

---

---

You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy. 

“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?” 

You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.” 

He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”

“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.” 

You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted. 

“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?” 

His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile. 

“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.” 

You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”

But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.  

“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.” 

“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.” 

The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life. 

As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod. 

As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks. 

“Lead the way,” you smile. 

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean.  He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back. 

“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. 

“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something.  “What do you say?” 

You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?” 

“No,” he says, “there.” 

He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.

“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?” 

You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now. 

He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down. 

As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."

His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment.  "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat. 

"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt. 

"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?" 

It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly. 

You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin. 

“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent. 

“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.” 

Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there. 

You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer. 

"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please." 

He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you. 

"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl." 

His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 

"Harder," you pant. 

"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you. 

"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too. 

"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling. 

His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.

He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle. 

"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection. 

You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?" 

He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.” 

You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52. 

"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him. 

Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence. 

“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way. 

“Hmmm. None yet. You?”

“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him. 

“What?”

His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.” 

You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently. 

When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in. 

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips. 

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

-------

Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.

Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.

Main Masterlist

[leahsgirl]

“yes you idiot.”

— in which leah has planned on proposing to you for a long time - except when that time does come; it all goes awry.

pairings - leah williamson x reader (female)

warnings - none, just minor swearing.

a/n - this is my first shot at writing so it may be horrible i apologise

—

“so once i’ve finished setting everything up I’ll text you and let you know i’m on my wa-“ Leah was mid conversation with Beth and Viv; until you interrupted of course, slotting yourself next to the blonde and matching strides with her as you make your way off the training pitch.

“what are you guys talking about?” you questioned as you observed beth and viv give each other a quick glance.

“nothing baby, I was just asking how myles was adjusting.” Leah replied, reaching out for your hand.

You and Leah have been dating for two and a half years, having officially met playing for the England squad a year prior. While Leah wasn’t your biggest fan to begin with - that soon changed when you made the transfer from manchester united to arsenal, allowing you and the blonde to get closer which then resulted in the two of you starting dating.

“oh my god, you have no idea how excited i’ve been to see him again.”

“i still want to know how you taught him to sit the first time meeting him - he won’t do it for me and Viv.” Beth bewildered.

“what can i say? i’m just the chosen one.” you smirked. “are you sure you can’t come Lee?” Now diverting your attention back to your girlfriend who was sorting out clothes to change into. You and a few of the other girls were going to Beth and Viv’s for a little girls/catch up night, unaware it was actually a set up to keep you out the house while Leah put her plan into action.

“i’ve got to go and help Jacob move stuff out of his apartment y/n or you know i’d be there.” She kissed your cheek.

“definitely just a sore loser because ya’ lost the game last time we went.” Katie piped up, appearing next to the taller girl who in turn gave her a petty slap on the arm.

—

“you’re beautiful.” a voice spoke from the other end of the room, slowly getting closer and wrapping their arms around you from behind as you looked at yourself in the mirror, peppering a few light kisses near your ear.

“and you’re late, weren’t you meant to meet Jacob twenty mins ago?”

Leah shrugged it off. “and miss the chance of admiring my girl. no way.” She planted a quick kiss on your lips, knowing you’d just finished applying your makeup. “besides, he changed the time to seven, i’ve got a good half an hour.”

She plonked herself down on the bed, fiddling with the rings she wore on her fingers. “what you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?” throughout your relationship with leah, you’ve got to know her pretty much inside and out, and if theres one thing you do know; she only messes with her rings when something is bothering her. “hm..nothing, just thinking about us i guess.”

“us?” you pushed, now joining her on the bed. “just like how we’ve ended up here and how thankful i am for you and everything.” the blue-eyed girl turned to look at you, as if she was studying your whole face. “well, i’m very thankful for you too, even if you are a pain in the arse most of the time.” the twenty-six year old faked hurt and annoyance. “but i love you.” you said more sincerely, placing a tender kiss on Leah’s forehead.

“i love you too.”

__

Leah kindly offered to drop you off at Beth and Viv’s which you accepted of course. All of the other girls were already there; Alessia and Lottie were fussing over myles, Katie, Caitlin and Steph was in what seemed like a very intense conversion, Jenn and Lia was messing with different filters on TikTok and Beth & Viv were playing host.

“there she is! y/n come in.” Viv ushered you inside and offered you a drink. You immediately making a beeline for the man of the hour, crouching down preparing to be bombarded by a very excited puppy.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Leah had began decorating. Her plan was for you to come home to a nice romantic homemade dinner, where after you share some nice conversation and food - she would pop the question, asking you to be her wife.

She’s had this planned for a good couple of months, having gone out with some of your teammates to acquire the goods and then going ring shopping on one of her few days off. To be honest, she was quite proud of herself she’s managed to keep this a secret from you for all this time.

The blonde started by blowing up some heart shaped balloons, followed by scattering rose petals from the front door all the way to the dining table which had been covered with a white table cloth and taper candles. She was making your favourite dishes for the meal of course; pasta with pesto and finishing with churros.

easier said than done however. “how do i make pasta?” the defender flipped the camera so her mum who was now on facetime can see the ingredients. It was times like this where she wishes she helped with the cooking more around the house. After practically what turned out to be a cooking lesson, Leah took the opportunity to change into something nicer, and less covered in flour.

Making her way around the bedroom, she opened her nightstand drawer, sifting a few things around until she pulled out a small black velvet box. She opened it briefly, checking the ring was okay and preyed to god you would like it.

Taking one final look at her work around the house, she pulled out her phone to text the fellow forward.

to: meado

just finished up back here, i’m gonna start heading to yours now.

As the night died down, your teammates and yourself had all congregated in the living room, spread across the sofa and the floor with some kind of cheesy sitcom that Lia put on playing in the background. Different conversations were going on, you finding yourself in a deep conversation with Jenn and Caitlin.

“Well well, look who finally decided to show her face.” Katie announced, pointing at all too familiar blonde locks. “Hey guys.” You got up and walked over to her planting a kiss on her cheek.

“i thought you had to help your brother?” You ask while absentmindedly rubbing her back. “oh..i did, we just finished so I thought i’d come pick you up.”

“Do you want a drink Leah?” Steph offered, holding up a beer in each hand. “No thanks, we have to get back to the apartment.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do we?”

“Yes we do, now come on.” She took your hand and tried to pull you to the door. “What’s with the rush? You’re being weird Lee.”

“I’m not - i’m just tired that’s all, i’m ready for bed.” She fake yawned. You sighed, “okay grumpy, just let me say bye to everyone.”

It’s safe to say the car ride home was no better. Leah’s leg was bouncing up and down which isn’t exactly ideal when you’re driving, she was cursing out everyone on the roads and kept messing with her bangs if they moved in the slightest. “Are you sure you’re okay love?”

The blonde turned to look and you and gave a weary smile, lifting your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle peck. “I’m fine I promise.”

Walking up the steps to your shared home, Leah stopped you before opening the door. “Okay I need you to close your eyes and only open them when I tell you.”

Complying, you shut your eyes. “Suspicious Miss Williamson.” You stated as you could hear your girlfriend fiddling with her keys in the door. she wrapped her arm around yours and guided you inside. “Okay you can open them now.” You followed her advice and took in your surroundings, suddenly getting an overwhelming sense of love surge over you. “Surprise.” Leah pulled you over to the candlelit table and pulled out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit down to then tuck you in. “Lee..i’m speechless. What’s all this for?”

“Just doing my girlfriend duties and treating you.” The blonde brought over two dishes to the table and sat herself down opposite you. “Shut up! you made my favourite meal?!” Taking a bite off your fork, your mouth practically waters with how good it tastes. “Oh my god, babe this is incredible.” Deciding to be more romantic, you twirl some of the pasta onto your fork and hold it out for Leah to take which she does.

it was all going really well; it had been long overdue since you and leah had a ‘date’ so to speak. While you loved your job and wouldn’t trade it for the world, it often meant romantic gestures like these were far and few in between.

“Is something burning?” The smell of smoke filling your nostrils as you look at the kitchen.

“Shit shit shit!” Leah was quick to her feet, opening the oven where a surge of grey smoke escaped and pulled out a tray with what were now very burnt churros. “For fuck sake.” The defender whined “Well there goes dessert.”

Joining her behind the kitchen island, you looked at the baking tray. “well..you tried.” half-heartedly joking, you looked at the older girl who now had a pout on her face. “It’s okay Leah, you made a lovely pasta. Besides, i’m sure we have some ice cream or something in the freezer.”

“No you don’t understand, tonight was meant to be perfect.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. You knitted your eyebrows together “Okay out with it.” sternly said, crossing your arms.

“Hm?”

“You’ve been on edge all day..you change the conversation when i caught up to you, meado and Viv. You couldn’t come to girls night which you never miss; i know you said you had to help your brother but then he suddenly changes times, you was angsty all the way home and now you’re practically arguing with the oven. So tell me what’s going on.”

Leah motioned for you to sit on the sofa. “Okay this isn’t how I wanted it to go down but-“ She took a deep breath. “Y/n, as you know i’m not really big on talking about my feelings, but the past three years have been the happiest of my life. you make me excited for the next day to come, you always push me, you stuck with me during my lowest, especially during my acl recovery, you just make me a better person.”

She takes your hand in hers, caressing your skin with her thumb and looks you directly in the eyes which at this point were working hard to not well up. “I guess what i’m trying to say is-“ She reaches into her pants pocket pulling out the familiar black velvet box. “-Will you marry me?”

As she says those four words, she opens the box and looks down at it, doing a double take as she sees its empty - the ring no where to be seen. “What the fuck, where’s the pissing ring.” Colour is draining from her face at this point as she stands up and frantically starts pacing. “You’ve got to be shitting me, the one day i need things to go smoothly.”

“Do you mean this ring?” You held up a ring with an oval diamond at the centre of it. Leah looked dumbfounded “How-how did you-“ The blonde was at a loss for words.

“Lee you dropped it twice during dinner - i even passed it to you once.” You giggled as you passed her the ring back “Did you?”

“See, you’ve been so uptight you didn’t even realise.” Standing up, you wrapped your arms around her neck, moving closer so that your faces were inches apart. “But my answer is yes.” you say barely above a whisper.

“yes?” at this point you thought you’d broke your poor girlfriend. “Yes i’ll marry you idiot.” Pressing your lips onto hers, you emerged yourselves into a deep kiss filled with passion.

Your now fiancé slipped the ring into your finger, admiring the ring and then you. She picked you up, twirling you around out of pure happiness and relief.

“Now how about dessert?” You winked and tugged her towards the bedroom.

liked by lucybronze and 2,086,773 others

leahwilliamson introducing future mrs williamson

usera SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

chloekelly congratulations ❤️

userb y/n on that wag life

youruser whose to say it’s not gonna be ‘leah y/l/n’

leahwilliamson replying to youruser y/n williamson just sounds better

kierawalsh congrats lovebirds 😄❤️

liked by alessiarusso and 1,887,201 others

youruser imagine i said no

ellatoone 😍❤️

userc Y/N’s GETTING MARRIED IM DOING ROLYPOLYS

1maryearps congrats kiddo!

userd please the difference in her and leah’s captions

jodiemcomer so happy for you y/n, congrats X

[magics-neptunes-things]

Shy Girl (2)

Hi guys!

This is the second part for Shy Girl, it was fun to write so I hope you will like it :)

It's longer that I thought tho. Sorry if there is some mistakes, Tumblr was a pain in my ass.

Enjoy!

TW : None

_____________________________________________________________

After the evening you met Alexia, you didn’t stay for long in Barcelona. You are engaged for a film on a rather large scale since you play in an American production and for one of the greatest current directors. You are always very careful to study the profiles of people offering you roles, preferring not to play in a promising film rather than finding yourself with someone crooked.

You talked about it at one point during your exchanges with Alexia and she confided in you about all that the Spanish team has experienced in recent years because of the Federation. But that’s just part of the different conversations you’ve had over the last couple of weeks. After talking a few times on Instagram, Alexia asked for your phone number and you continued by messages and sometimes FaceTime.

Sometimes you had to change countries, but you always managed to find a time to exchange news. You must admit that when a break is taking between two takes, you hurry to check your phone to see if you have not received a message from Alexia. Little do you know that she does the same in training, undergoing the teasing of her teammates.

********

Alexia 👑 Hey! When are you coming back to Barcelona again?

You I'm coming on Friday Why?

Alexia 👑 If I give you tickets, would you like to watch me play?

You Wait, you can play again?! 😱

Alexia 👑 Just had the go from the medical staff 😊

You Oh god I'm so happy for you 🤗 Of course I'll come, I'm happy you ask

Alexia 👑 I'm happy too. I'll send you all the information soon 💕

It's after this exchange of messages that you find yourself installed once again in the area reserved for families and VIPs, accompanied by your agent and definitely your best friend. Sofia puts her hand on your knee for the tenth time of the evening to prevent you from making it bounce in all directions. Alexia has informed you that she will not start the game, but will be in after the start of the second half.

Alexia is actually training since the return of the teams on the field and you feel the excitement running through the crowd as you see the captain treading the grass. However, it’s nothing against the clamor that resounds in the crowd when Alexia joins the rest of the team for the first time in many weeks. A big smile illuminates your face, similar to Alexia’s before she focuses on the game.

The match turn to Barca's advantage and you stay after the match when the players start their lap at the end of the game. You spotted Alexia’s mom and sister a few seats away from you but you didn’t have the courage to go and greet them. You didn’t agree on a program after the match, you didn’t want to impose yourself too much and you imagined that Alexia would prefer to celebrate her return to the field with her teammates.

You wink at her when she comes to greet her family and you were about to get up to leave the stadium when she beckons you to approach. You hesitate for a split second but your best friend gently pushes you in the back to join her, which you do timidly.

"Hi" smiled Alexia, placing her hand on yours, which is on the metal of the railing. "Can you wait for me to catch up? I'll be quick"

Your skin is hot where she's touching you and you have to use all of yourself to stay focus on the conversation you're having.

"Don’t you want to celebrate with your friends?" you ask while looking at her with your head tilted to the side.

"Maybe after" Alexia replies with some embarrassment that you have trouble understanding.

"Okay. I’ll wait for you then"

You smile and a big smile is displayed on Alexia’s face, who promises once again not to take long before joining you. So you return to the same lobby as a few days ago, accompanied by your agent and best friend. Like the other day, she goes to get you a glass of champagne and you sit on two stools at the back of the room.

You find yourself blushing stupidly when you cross the look of Eli Putellas and you hurry to half hide behind your best friend who rolls her eyes seeing you do.

True to her promise, Alexia quickly appears in the room, stopping once again at her family who kisses her and exchanges a few words with her. Your eyes meet several times during their exchange and you quickly understand at Alexia's sign of head that she wants to introduce you.

"Don’t forget to breathe, you’re going to pass out" Sofia teases you.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little too fast when the three Putellas arrive at your height. You haven’t seen Alexia in person since you met her and with her wet hair and her bright smile, she’s even more stunning than you remember. However, you try to ignore this by listening to Alexia who make the introductions between you four.

After the greetings and exchanges of rigour, you learn in passing that Alba has seen all of your films, Alba and Eli must leave since they both work the next day.

"I’m glad you came" Alexia smiles after her family left and your best friend went to the bathroom.

"I’m glad I came" you assure her by smiling too.

You silently look at each other for a few seconds and you bite your lip, trying to hold her gaze.

"It’s weird to be in front of you after writing to you for two weeks" you finally confess timidly.

"It's weird for me too, but I'm really happy you came. It's mean a lot to me"

She takes your hand in her and when she sees your eyes going on your intertwined hands, she thinks that it's makes you uncomfortable. But when she try to take her hand back, you squeeze it, offering her a timid smile.

"Thanks for inviting me" you say, looking in her eyes.

She smiles and seems to relax, but Sofia come back at this moment and your hands are not longer in one other.

"So, what are you plan for the next days?" Alexia asks.

"I have some interviews while the film is being edited. After that I have to travel around to make the promotion of it, the film preview... And after all that I'm taking some holidays."

"Where are you going?"

"Barcelona probably" you smirk. "We have all we need here"

Alexia smirk back and keep talking with you for more time, until Mapi and some others girls come to look after Alexia. After greeting you, the blond talks to her friend.

"We're going to the restaurant Ale, you coming?"

"Do you want to come with us?" Alexia asks, turning for looking at you.

"I have to say no for her" Sofia intervenes "Early morning interview tomorrow"

You pout but Alexia smile while nodding, kissing your cheek before leaving.

"Well that went well" Sofia comments, smiling over her drink as you touch your cheek where Alexia's lips where seconds ago.

At the same time, Alexia was sighing before taking a last look at you above her shoulder.

"What is it?" Mapi asks her best friend.

"She's so beautiful. And cute. And sweet. I wish I could talk to her longer."

"So whipped already" Mapi scoffs, drawing a frown from her own girlfriend who asks her to leave Alexia alone.

********

Ale 💘 How the interviews went?

You It was great. A little bit tiring to have to answer always the same question but it was alright. How is your knee?

Ale 💘 It's fine, like nothing happened 😊

You Thanks God. I'm happy for you really

Ale 💘 Thanks 😊 Can’t believe I’ve only been back in the field for two weeks Also two weeks since I last saw you

You About that, I have something to ask you but maybe it's a little too much ��

Ale 💘 Tell me?

You As you know, we have the Preview for the film on Thursday in Barcelona

Ale 💘 Yes?

You I was wondering if you would like to come? And maybe being my +1? I know it can be weird because we don't really saw each other physically a lot, but I thought it could be fun to go there with you. We talked a lot already and I feel like I know you, at least a little bit. Don't feel any pressure anyway, I'll understand if you are busy with something else or if you don't want to come so don't worry It's too much isn't it? 😥 You don't have to answer

Ale 💘 🤣 I would love to go with you ❤️

********

You were happy, more than that actually, when Alexia says yes to you. But now you are a mess, looking at yourself in the mirror. You don't like your dress for tonight, you don't like your make up or the way your hair are. You always choose your clothes yourself, but tonight you feel like you only made bad choices.

You want to look great for Alexia, hopping that she doesn't regret to appear at your side for tonight. You warned her that there would be journalists and photographers, but it didn’t seem to bother her. You explained to her from beginning to end the way these evenings go, from A to Z, without omitting the slightest detail. You don't want Alexia to be uncomfortable or embarrassed at any time of the evening.

"You're beautiful" Sofia smiles when she entered the room.

You shrug, still looking at you before sighing. She's your friend, of course she will tell you something like this. Before you can answer anything, someone is knocking at the door again and you let Sofia open the door.

"Hola Alexia. Great to see you here" she smiles, before leaving the room.

Alexia’s presence electrifies you and you turn to face her. You let your eyes wrap around her appearance and you almost need to sit down. She’s amazing, obviously. Is there ever a time when that hasn’t been the case? When your eyes stop on her face, you realize that she is smiling softly and you take a few steps in her direction to greet her properly. You’ve been talking non-stop for weeks now, but this is only the third time you can see her in real life.

Your arms naturally find their place around her neck when she takes you in her arms to greet you. Smiling, you extend your embrace, discreetly breathing her smell.

"I missed you" Alexia whispers in your ear

It makes you shiver and you can’t hide the smile on your face.

"I missed you too" you smile softly as you step back a bit to look at her. "You are really beautiful"

"Speak for yourself" Alexia smiles back.

Neither of you has released the other when your eyes cross and you feel your breath become short when you see that her eyes descend on your lips. It’s been a few days since you’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss Alexia, even before your discussions take a little more intimate turn. A little flirty too. You discovered a funny Alexia that makes you appreciate her even more.

When Alexia’s eyes go up on yours, looking for a form of consent, you just smile at her. No words are needed. Your heart accelerates in anticipation as she leans over you, but the door of the room suddenly opens when your lips are only a few millimeters apart.

"Y/N, we have to… Oh, sorry"

You refrain from insulting your colleague (and friend) on the screen when he enters the room suddenly, making you both jump. But your gaze must speak for you since he addresses you an excuse grimace. He looks at Alexia with curiosity, who now stands awkwardly two feets away from you.

"Alexia, this is John, my co-worker" you mumble. "John, this is Alexia"

"Great to finally meet you" John says with a smile, reaching his hand to Alexia before turning to you. "We have to go, the cars are here"

"We are coming"

He smiles again and leave. You turn yourself to Alexia, who was already looking at you.

"He never knocks on the door before entering?"

She looks annoyed and you bite your lower lip.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Your eyes meet and she seems to relax a little. You offer her a hesitant hand, relieved to see that she doesn't hesitate for a second to take it.

"Are you ready to go?"

When Alexia nods, you take her with you to the exit the hotel where you prepared yourself. One of the cars supposed to take you to your destination is waiting for you and you let Alexia in before you.

"Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I imagine you must have your quota of ceremonies like this" you tell her while the car started.

"A little" confesses Alexia, shrugging her shoulders, before smiling. "But it’s for me, next time it’s you who will have to accompany me"

"With great pleasure"

A smile appears on your face and you feel your stomach doing a double-flip at the idea of spending extra time with Alexia. Enjoying the intimacy that the car offers you, you put your head on Alexia’s shoulder which intertwines your fingers to put your hands on her lap.

"After that, you have no more obligations right?" asks Alexia after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"No more for a whole month" you confirm.

You can’t wait to have time for yourself, to sleep in the morning and just have nothing to do. To be able to stay in Barcelona, in your apartment and see your loved ones.

"Will you have time for me?" asked Alexia in a shy voice.

"Obviously" you smile softly as you look up at her.

"If I offered you a date, would you say yes?"

"I would say yes if you asked me, of course"

Your mischievous smile is seen by Alexia, who smiles back at you. This isn't exactly a officially request, but it goes in your way of operating from the beginning. Teasing, lightness and above all no anticipation of anything. No obligation, just the desire to spend time together. And other than by screen interposed for once.

When you arrive, she puts a kiss on your cheek.

"Time to shine, superstar"

You blush violently, which seems to amuse her a lot. The look of reproaches that you throw at her makes her smile, even if she addresses you a small sentence of apology.

"Sorry. But I find the fact that we’re both in the spotlight when we’re socially awkward rather amusing."

She’s absolutely right, and it’s probably one of your biggest commonalities. But it also allows you to better understand the other and you appreciate that very much.

A few minutes later, you are walking on the red carpet, trying to ignore the flashes of the photographers.

"I’ll have to take pictures" you explain to Alexia in a low voice while waiting for John to finish "Normally we take only a few before taking others with our partner, but we will avoid this point"

You cross Alexia’s eyes and quickly realize that something seems to bother her. You ask her with your eyes and you are once again pleasantly surprised at the simplicity with which she seems to be able to confide in you.

"Don’t you want to be seen with me?"

"Yes, of course. But you…"

"I don’t mind. On the contrary."

After looking in her eyes for a few seconds and realizing that she's telling you the truth, you nod with a shy smile. That wasn’t the reason you invited her, after all, you’re not a couple. But you’re glad she wants to pose with you.

After taking some pictures alone, you invite her to join you by raising your hand to her. She takes it quietly, putting a hand in the hollow of your back. And you need all your concentration to stay focused on what’s going on. You look at her and smile back at her, before looking again at the photographs.

When a few extra flashes have burned your retina, you take her hand again to take her with you in the comfort offered by the cinema.

You stop by several journalists to answer more questions, still without releasing Alexia’s hand. She gives you a reassuring smile every time you turn in her direction and ask her how she feels.

After a while, you finally find your seats in one of the first rows of the cinema. At one point you received a drink and you put it on your armrest to turn towards Alexia.

"Are you okay? I know it can be a lot" you apologize, biting your lip.

"You had warned me. I'm alright, don't worry" gently reminds you a smiling Alexia.

You hum for any answer, letting yourself go against the back of your chair.

"And on top of that, a first date at the cinema isn't so unusual" smiles Alexia.

It makes you laugh and when you look at her, her eyes sparkle with malice. In spite of yourself, you think about the missed kiss in the hotel room and when you see Alexia’s look slip on your lips, you know that she thinks about it too.

You really want to kiss her right now, but the director and the producer are suddenly in front of the crowd to thanks people to be here. You don't really listen to what they say, really aware of Alexia's fingers brushing against your arm.

During the film, you can't stop looking at her to see her reactions. You talked to her about the film, but you didn't give her all the details. You loved seeing her smile, laugh or frown.

"Internet is going crazy" Sofia informs you both when the film is over.

You and Alexia followed the others into the reception room where there are petits fours and countryside. You exchanged a few discussions with several people in the field, making sure to always include Alexia in one way or another. Most of your interlocutors obviously know her, she remains a world famous sportswoman.

"Why?" you ask Sofia naively, gently frowning.

"You show up with one of the best players in the world after being officially single for years. Try again" laughs Sofia rolling her eyes.

"Oh" you just blush slightly.

Alexia smirks at you, before taking a sip of her drink. The idea of being seen with Alexia doesn't bother you, you wouldn't have invited her if it had been the case. But you’ll probably never understand people’s interest in other people’s privacy.

"Do you want to get some fresh air?" Alexia suggests pointing to the balcony with a nod.

You nod and follow her quietly. The fresh air from the outside is nice and the fact that the balcony overlooks an inner courtyard that doesn't show you to the rest of the world is just as nice.

"Are you having a good time?" you ask, looking closely at Alexia.

"Very good yes. It would have been difficult otherwise, I am in very good company after all"

You smile softly at her and give yourself control by finishing the glass that you held until now in your hand.

"Can I ask you something?" asked Alexia shortly afterwards.

"Of course" you answer by looking at her curiously.

"Sofia said you were officially single for years"

"Yes?"

"What does she mean by officially? Did you have someone hiding or something like that?"

"Oh... No, not at all. I was really focused on my career and it's always hard to manage a relationship when you are always everywhere in the world"

You shrug, but can't escape the inquisitive looks Alexia sends you.

"So... Hooks up?"

You widen your eyes before shaking your head negatively.

"No. It's not... I mean I'm not into this kind of things" you begin before stopping and looking at Alexia hesitantly "You're going to think I'm weird or something"

"I promise I'm not" Alexia smiles, grabbing your hand.

"I had someone but the distance was hard and we just fall apart. I haven't been with someone since" you mumble, blushing once again. "I... For me, sex and love are coming together"

Alexia is still smiling but you only have to look in her eyes to learn that she's not making fun of you.

"You are the sweetest girl in the world."

You roll your eyes and feel your body shiver when she put a strand of hair behind your ear. Taking advantage that you are alone, you press your face on her hand and gently kiss her wrist. You lost yourself in her eyes once again, studying at length each of Alexia’s facial features. She leans again in your direction and her breath caresses your lips when you hear John’s voice sound behind you again.

"What?!" you snap, turning in his direction.

"I… uh. The producer was looking for you, he wanted to introduce you to a friend of his" "I’m coming" you sigh with annoyance

You don’t listen to his stuttering excuses, preferring to take a deep breath to calm down. Why does the whole world seem determined to stop you from exchanging your first kiss with Alexia?

"I better go" you sigh softly as you turn towards the door.

But, before you can make the slightest step, you feel Alexia’s hand grab your arm and draw you against her. Your eyes cross for a few seconds before her lips are on yours. Her lips blend perfectly with yours and you step on your toes to prolong the kiss. Your arms wrap around her neck and head, trying to be as close to her as possible.

Her hands slide on your back and her whole smell fills you. She's everywhere and you don't know if it's that or the lack of oxygen, but you feel yourself like floating.

"Now you can go if you want" Alexia mumble against your lips, as breathless as you are.

"I'm not sure if I want to" you admit, slightly blushing.

"Do you want to go home?"

Alexia only lets half a second pass before adding something to what she just said, as if she had just realized something.

"I mean… not going back, but you know… I mean, we didn’t really spend time just physically. Well, physically, I mean in front of each other not…"

"Alexia, stop" you smile softly, putting an end to Alexia’s agony.

She seems to be grateful to you because she takes her breath while looking at you, although dancing nervously from one foot to the other.

"Sorry, it was weird" Alexia rolls her eyes.

"It reassures me a little, little things you were out of the socialy awkward category" you smile maliciously before adding "Let's go home."